The Imperial Barracks were still imposing, maybe more so. The black walls loomed taller than Amaranthe remembered, the cannons larger. The guards at the gate were much bigger. Maybe the runty ones—less than six and a half feet—had been on shift for her previous visit.
She strode toward the gate, more nervous than she had been the first time. Her breathing sounded quick and shallow in her ears. She had changed back into her enforcer uniform and exchanged the crossbow for her service-issue sword and knife. Sicarius’s dagger was tucked into her belt. Hairpins she could open her handcuffs with secured her bun. She had no idea if she could pick a dungeon cell lock with them but hoped she would get a chance to talk to Sespian before Hollowcrest condemned her to that fate—or a worse one.
The two guards watched her approach, one a corporal, one a private, both with disdainful eyes. Their mail jingled as they moved to block her way.
“State your purpose.”
Amaranthe drew a deep breath, exhaled, and watched it form a cloud. “I’m Corporal Lokdon, an enforcer from the Commercial District. I’m here to see Commander of the Armies Hollowcrest.”
“It’s late, and he doesn’t see people without an appointment.”
Which she did not have this time.
“Corporal.” What were the odds she could cow him? It was not likely; imperial guards were not intimidated by enforcers, less so by women. It would be Hollowcrest’s name that swayed them, if anything. “I have been on a mission assigned by the Commander himself. He instructed me to report back to him immediately upon its completion.”
“What mission?”
“To kill the assassin, Sicarius.” Before they could start laughing, she tapped the hilt of the black dagger. “I brought the criminal’s favorite weapon as proof of his demise.”
Their eyes narrowed. One man extended his hand, palm up. She hesitated. Dare she give up her only evidence? Hollowcrest might take the dagger and send her away without a meeting. Or have her killed at the doorstep. But surely he would want to know how she succeeded—especially if he intended her to fail. With that not-exactly-hopeful thought, Amaranthe handed the dagger to the guard.
He studied it. “Interesting metal, but this could belong to anybody.”
“Commander of the Armies Hollowcrest said he would know Sicarius’s foul blade if he saw it.” Not exactly true, but she could hardly admit Sicarius had been the one to suggest the idea.
The corporal handed the weapon to his comrade. “Run this up to his office and check.”
The lower-ranking man paled, obviously not enthused about disturbing Hollowcrest. He accepted the dagger as if it were a venomous snake, unlocked the gate, and trotted into the courtyard.
Neither Amaranthe nor the corporal spoke while his comrade was gone, though he sent numerous suspicious glances her direction. She leaned against the wall and did her best to ignore him. A nearby clock tower tolled ten times.
The waiting gave her time to think—and doubt. She had no leverage to hold over Hollowcrest to make him answer her questions. She was walking naked into the grimbal’s den, hoping chance gave her a weapon before the fearsome predator ate her. It was the sort of ‘plan’ she would have chastised a rookie for presenting. If Hollowcrest wanted her dead, it would be more logical to flee fast and far. She could go back to her flat, collect her savings, and leave the city forever. Of course, she would spend her whole life wondering if there might be an assassin on her trail. And then there was that niggling comment about the emperor and the tea. If she left now, she would not only be running away from her life, but she would be abandoning Sespian, the emperor she had sworn to honor and protect the day she became an enforcer.
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The Emperor's Edge
FantasyImperial law enforcer Amaranthe Lokdon is good at her job: she can deter thieves and pacify thugs, if not with a blade, then by toppling an eight-foot pile of coffee canisters onto their heads. But when ravaged bodies show up on the waterfront, an a...