The wardroom might have been a decent placeto spend time, if Amaranthe's wrist was not shackled to a post. Shesat in the one chair she could reach, tracing the whorls on a teaktable, the only piece of wood in sight. Brass kerosene lamps hungon the walls, casting yellow reflections on the ubiquitous blandsteel surrounding her. The scent of lye soap added to the sterilefeel.
The main hatch creaked open. Two bulky gruntsstrode in and assumed guard positions to either side of theentrance. A graying man with gold bar-and-sail pins on his collarfollowed. He had a cleft chin, intense brown eyes, and a nose sharpenough to break ice without the aid of his ship.
Amaranthe stood. "Greetings, Captain. I cameto discuss-"
He slid a sheet of paper onto the tablebefore her. Her wanted poster. The guards murmured to each other,and one eyed her with calculation.
"— something of more importance than that,"she finished.
"I'll bet." Though chilly, the captain'svoice was not hostile, and his dark eyes seemed to be weighing her."We found the bodies you mentioned. There was no sign of anyKendorian."
Amaranthe's stomach went for a swim amongstthe table legs. The second Kendorian must have circled back andhidden his comrade's body. That was bad, very bad. That meant-
"My XO thinks we should shoot you outright.He suspects you of slaying the men yourself, especially since yourwanted poster says you traffic with that cur-lickingsoldier-slaying assassin, Sicarius." The captain glowered at her,brow furrowed.
She kept her chin up and met his eyes. "Butyou know I wouldn't have been foolish enough to turn myself over toyour guards if that were the case."
The captain snorted. "Perhaps you are adiversion while Sicarius sneaks aboard my ship to attempt somesabotage." He thrust a finger toward her nose. "If my commanderslearned that fiend was within a mile of my ship and I didn't shoothim, I could be accused of treason and booted out of the service.I'd lose my warrior caste title, my military rank, my home, myland, everything." A flash of real fear haunted his eyes.
Amaranthe grimaced in sympathy. "Sicariusisn't the one you need to be worried about. I'm here because Idon't want to see some scheming Kendorian sink this ship. I believeone may be aboard even now."
"The Ice Cracker II is unsinkable," thecaptain growled. "Its reversible steam piston engine has redundantscrew repellers in case of failure, and the reinforced steel hullcan smash through ice over two meters thick. It can withstand morethan two thousand pounds of pressure per square inch along thewaterline. If we ran into a rock, the rock would be pulverized, andthere wouldn't be a scratch on the bottom of my girl."
"It sounds like asignificant upgrade to the Ice CrackerI." Amaranthe leaned against the pole,attempting to look casual. She had chanced upon his passion, andnobody liked to talk as much as someone discussing hispassion.
"Drastically. That moldy tub was made of woodwith only the bottom reinforced with iron. It's a wonder it didn'tsink years ago. Though only that drunk lout, Captain Mekam, couldram his ship into a cliff on a lake."
"Cliff? The newspapers said the ship wasdecommissioned."
"The papers don't-" The captain frowned ather, eyes narrowed.
"Was it an accident? Ineptitude?" Amarantheknew the captain had realized he was saying too much, but hoped shemight squeeze another drop out regardless. "Or maybe the Kendorianswere at work even then."
"Or maybe you're about to spend the night inthe brig." The captain gestured for the guards to take her andstalked out.
Amaranthe barely noticed asthe soldiers unlocked her and marched her out the hatch, her armsclamped in their hands. Her mind dwelled on that new information.The Ice Cracker I,not decommissioned, but destroyed. What if-
"How're we going to do this?" one of herescorts asked, voice low.
"We'll split it. Gotta make it look like shetried to escape."
Emperor's eternal warts, her soldiers weregoing to get greedy instead of taking her to the brig. She eyed thebleak gray corridors, textured flooring, hanging lanterns, andintermittent ladders and hatches. Sicarius would be aboard by now,but he would be hunting for the Kendorian, not looking to rescueher in some random passageway.
"This is good. Nobody's around." The menslowed. "Get your sword out. We'll-"
"Are you really intending to risk yourcareers for a chance at my meager 10,000 ranmya bounty?" Amarantheasked, hoping a little chitchat might distract them.
An alcove ahead held a bucket of sand, anaxe, and a hand pump. Though she wondered what there was that couldpossibly burn on the metal ship, the firefighting station offeredhope.
"Hush, woman."
"10,000 is a lot. And ain't nobody going toobject to your death."
"10,000 isn't enough to live on for more thana couple years, and you have to split it, right? A mere 5,000each." She stopped to trade looks with them. In truth, she justwanted to take a break in front of that axe. "What you really needto do is get Sicarius. He's worth millions."
"Naw, too dangerous. He's a sincerekiller."
"He's on the ship. It wouldn't be hard to setsomething up."
She had their full attention now. The axe wasin reach, if she could just get a hand free.
"He trusts me," she said. "I could easily seta trap. I wouldn't dare go against him alone, but with help…”
"Maybe we could-" one of the soldiersstarted.
"No, don't be stupid," his comrade said."Sicarius would kill us easier than spit."
She twisted her neck to look behind them."Then you'll be concerned that he's standing behind you."
The soldiers' eyes bulged, and they whirledabout. She yanked her arms free. She grabbed the bucket and threwthe sand just as they turned back and reached for her. Their armsflailed. They cursed as grit pelted their eyes.
Amaranthe snatched the axe and swung at theclosest soldier. She turned her wrists and struck with the flat ofthe blade. It thudded against the man's head. As he dropped, shetore his cutlass free. He struck the floor and clutched at hishead, oblivious. She released the axe in favor of the lighterweapon.
The other soldier recovered from the sandbarrage and unsheathed his own blade as well as his pistol. Heopened his mouth, but she did not have time for conversation now.She sidestepped and kicked the pistol out of his grip.
Cutlass leading, she lunged and slashed,hoping to catch him by surprise. As a soldier, he would have hadhours of drills pounded into him, though, and he parried easily.Reluctantly, she settled in for the obligatory exchange where theygauged each other's strengths and weaknesses. Someone could turndown the corridor any moment, and now that she was armed, soldierswould not be her allies.
His cutlass flashed toward her head. Sherecognized the feint-even with his greater arm length, his lungewould not bring him close-and only dropped her own blade inanticipation of a second attack. Steel screeched as cutlasses metbefore her thigh.
She used the momentum of the rebound toriposte, flicking at his wrist. A line of blood appeared in hisflesh.
Though the small wound could not have hurtmuch, his eyes flickered with surprise. It was too small a victoryto celebrate triumph, but first blood was often enough to rattle anopponent.
Attacking with more care, the soldier pressedher with additional strikes. He had reach and strength, but she hadsparred often with Sicarius. Parrying his lightning strikes madeeveryone else's blade thrusts seem molasses-like.
The soldier was careful not to leave himselfopen, and she parried and gave ground, studying him, waiting for anadvantage. He cycled through a handful of combination attacks, andthey soon became predictable.
Someone moved behind him, and she winced.Amaranthe had to finish this before the second soldier got backinto the fray.
When the high slash toward her head cameagain, she was ready before he fully launched it. She ducked,tossing out a parry in case his blade came down, and darted inclose. She sliced her cutlass against his ribcage, even as shecontinued past and came out behind him.
He grunted with pain and started to turntoward her, but she launched a sidekick that could have busted downa door. His boots left the ground as he sailed backward. His headstruck one of the hanging lanterns. It broke, and he went downamongst shattering glass.
Amaranthe whirled, expecting the secondsoldier. The black-clad figure standing before her was no soldierthough.
"I trust you, and you could easily set a trapfor me?" Sicarius held out her short sword, eyebrows arched.