Luke and Aisha were the last to arrive, when the first hues of orange were beginning to paint the sky and the air had grown from cool to cold, a crisp wind stirring to make Luke thankful for the black cloak he had been given overtop his black and muted gray coat. He clutched the collar tightly with anticipation.
General Wolf stood off to the side of the narrow dirt road conversing with Major Linden, arms folded and face stern as if she not like what he was saying. Major Vasran, Captain Daniels, and several burly men Luke did not recognize were loading bundles and crates of supplies into a compartment in the back of the automobile. It was a strange thing, of course, a carriage without a horse, but he had seen plenty of them on the streets of Aetas Origo over the years, and did not think much on it. That was not to say he liked them. Who could?
Major Alexis Cade leaned against a building easily, one heel up against the brick wall, arms balanced by her dirt-driven spear. Her golden mantle had been replaced for this night by an enveloping black cloak. Everyone was wearing similar nondescript clothing, even those who were not coming on the journey. It all seemed almost excessively inconspicuous. Luke could see that the general stood stooped, his face bent down to shadow it from prying eyes. Flocks, the man was tall. Stooped, and he still had to look down at Major Linden!
“…doesn’t explain why you of all people have to go,” Linden was saying.
“Don’t press this, Linden,” Wolf said quietly. “I understand your concern.”
“Then don’t risk yourself!” she hissed. “You are too important to Mirastelle to be doing crazy things like this!”
“I have to be there.”
“Why?”
Wolf said nothing.
She bit her lip in frustration and stalked off. One of the men carrying crates set his load down in the automobile and hurried after her. General Wolf shook his head, then glanced up and caught sight of Luke and Aisha.
“You’ve arrived. Good,” he said, waving them over.
“The boy learns quickly,” Aisha said, bowing her head slightly.
“Does he, now?” Wolf asked, cracking a smile made unsettling by his usual gaunt appearance. “Great to hear, Luke. Well done.”
“Thank you, sir.”
After Aisha had almost clipping filleted him, he had practiced knife grips with her. Generally, two things affected the grip you used, the shape of the knife itself and the situation it was being used in. And there were many, many grips, but mostly variations of the same two types, forward and reverse. Reverse gripping was a defensive tactic for short range jabbing, whereas forward grips were used offensively, to deliver penetrative thrusts into the enemy. She said that the knife was a terrible weapon for defending yourself, though, so in her opinion the forward grip was the better of the two.
“Knifes are for butchering,” Aisha had said. She closed her eyes and spoke softly, as if quoting. “When two people fight with knives, the winner goes to the hospital.”
“What do you mean? Wouldn’t that make him the loser?”
“There’s still a little bit of a kid in there, no matter what you say,” Aisha laughed, tapping Luke’s head. “The loser goes to the morgue.”
Luke was suddenly struck by a strange feeling, thinking on the whirlwind of the last few days as he stood before Vander Wolf once more. If he had left home just one day sooner, he would have never had that chance encounter with Vassago Rixator. He would have arrived into Mirastelle the proper way, and never met Captain Daniels. One day later, and he would have never met Cyrus. Perhaps, he would have been captured and thrown in with the rest of those villagers, or worse. If he had never left at all…
Will it be a good thing? Luke wondered. Or a bad thing, if the old man was right all along again? No. I couldn’t have stayed there. I couldn’t have.
Wolf exchanged some words with one of the cloaked men, no doubt a guardsman, then sent the man on his way. In short time, the only people remaining on the road were the general, Luke, Aisha, Captain Daniels, and Major Cade. The general gestured to the automobile.
“Daniels, you’re up front,” Wolf said as Aisha pulled a door open and slid into the driver’s seat.
“Me?” Daniels pointed at himself. “Not you, sir? May I ask why?”
“Certainly,” Wolf said smoothly. “You are the least recognizable person here, save Aisha. And Luke, of course. But we’re going to be passing ourselves off as merchants tonight. Is that enough for now?”
“More than, sir,” Daniels said, freezing halfway to a salute. He jerked his arm down. “Right.”
Wolf winced, but said nothing. They were supposed to be incognito, shady people, definitely not soldiers saluting their superior officers.
Cade shrugged, crossing over to the automobile and taking one of the two back seats. Luke exchanged a glance with the general. It was a four seat vehicle. So…
“And me, sir?” he asked hesitantly.
“You’re going to be sitting with the goods, I’m afraid.” Wolf gestured again at the automobile, a box-shaped metal frame on four wheels. There were three sections of roughly equal size, but the third lacked seating, intended as a storage compartment. “We arranged a hidden space for you. You’ll be able to sit up, but not stand.”
“I’ll take what I can get,” Luke said with a sigh.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Wolf said, patting him on the shoulder. “Let’s be about it, then, shall we?”
And so it was, after Luke crawled into his cramped sitting space, that the automobile began to stir. Slowly at first, bumping along the road until it passed through a gate he could not see and picked up speed. From here, Wolf explained as they rode, they would ensure a lack of pursuers for some miles, then head straight for Filose.
Stacks of tightly packed boxes spoiled Luke’s view, but he could smell the fresh, crisp air whenever a window in front was opened, likely Aisha’s as she smoked. Yes, he could faintly smell that, as well. The window was opened several times throughout the trip, so as to not let the interior grow too cold.
“Filose has been hurting for grain for some time,” Wolf explained. “So once they crack open a crate or two, they should let you through without much of a problem. If, for some reason, they open all of them, the most they’ll be able to notice is that some of the crates aren’t as full as they could be. That’s where we’ll be storing the thunderflutes. If we get a large haul, we may have to discard some of the grain. It is a waste, but I consider it a small price to pay for a major advantage that will spare many lives in the events to come.
“I wish it weren’t so. But Ranboc was wrong. The Agreement was nothing more than a period of preparation for them.” His voice hardened to stone. “The four of us will engage the enemy if it comes to it. Bringing back even a few thunderflutes is of critical importance. We have to learn what they are, how they are engineered.
“Luke, the most I can ask of you is to fight for us. Don’t die for us. You aren’t a proper soldier yet, whether you want to be or not. If our true intentions are discovered, try returning to the automobile first, and if it’s under their control, hide or run as you see fit. You may surrender, if you wish. Be truthful with them, or they may not treat you so kindly.”
“I understand,” Luke lied. He knew in his bones that he would never submit to the Empire. Never.
Wolf continued outlining the plan, explaining the expected street layout. It was difficult to grasp without a map or the streets themselves in front of him, but he thought he understood it well enough. Time would tell.
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Even after learning the specifics, Luke could not grasp why Vander Wolf, famous tactician, brought so few people. Sure, they looked like a merchant automobile, but it was common for automobiles to travel in groups. They could have easily passed as that, by the sound of things. Perhaps Ulciscor did not have enough grain to spare? Or was there something else, something the general was not saying?
He finally realized it when Wolf said how they would be approaching the shipment. They would be splitting into two groups and crossing different streets to reach the same destination. Wolf and Aisha were going one way, the others another way. Less people draws less attention, to be sure, but his gut told him Wolf was up to something. Wolf described a twenty minute stretch of walking where they were apart. They didn’t need to be separated for that long, did they?
Listening to the planning, thoughts swirled in his head. He imagined the thoughts as a whirlpool, slowly churning around and around…
Green.
He blinked his eyes open, long adjusted to the darkness of the night-shrouded automobile and the dark crates looming around him. Just as he had lost his concentration and nearly dozed off listening to the general and his subordinates for what was probably hours, his focus snapped back to clarity as crisp as the air outside. And that color painted his mind. Green. Why did he feel like thinking of this color was doing something?
The feeling didn’t persist, but his concentration held as he continued to listen to every last scrap of the plan. He took in the sounds of the engine, the rushing wind, the wheels thumping endlessly over dirt, the voices, and none of it distracted him.
As Wolf began to warn them that they would be approaching Filose soon, Luke felt as tense as anyone would, but he also felt an odd sort of… calmness. And he realized why. After running all his life from Terra Daeva, this was it. This was the night he would finally strike back.
The automobile slowed. Light flooded through the windows and the wooden framework separating passengers from cargo. One window, the driver’s judging from the sound, Luke thought, rolled down, letting cold air seep through the vehicle once again.
Gravelly footsteps announced someone’s approach. Luke could not help but feel a familiar terror and shivered. Immediately, he pushed the feeling down, stretching for his newfound resolve. All of that was in the past. He was trapped, boxed in by crates, and yet… something felt different.
“Do you know what time it is?” said a man from outside.
A second set of footsteps circled around the vehicle, and a much brighter light suddenly shone through the windows. It was a warm yellow color, and circular, as if concentrated through a tunnel, which Luke knew to be an incandescent flashlight. They were similar to light bulbs, but far more expensive due to their portability.
“Just after ten, sir,” Daniels said. “Had some engine trouble.”
“We’re going to take a look.”
“Grain, sir.”
———
“We’re going to take a look,” the Filose guardsman repeated.
Deen Daniels said nothing this time, nodding instead. Let the man do his job. He could respect a diligent guardsman.
“No problem,” Wolf whispered from the back seat. The man had taken a relaxed position with a flat worker’s cap hung over his face as if to help him sleep, arms behind his head.
Alexis kept her gaze averted, but Aisha watched the guard with an expression that could not be called concern. Curiosity, more like. She clearly did not think she could be recognized. Deen had certainly never seen the woman before. He had never even heard of the general having a bodyguard like this. Perhaps she was new to the position, but from the way they spoke to one another, it gave him the impression that they were far from strangers.
What felt like a minute passed, and Deen realized this check was running entirely too long if an actual minute had. He could faintly hear the other guard in the back, popping a crate’s latches and lifting the lid. Wolf had lifted his chin just slightly. He seemed ready to come alert.
“Is there a problem?” Deen risked the question.
“Be patient,” the man said, staring intently at him. Was he trying to read something from his expression? “We’re checking your whole compartment.”
Deen was right. Good thing I noticed, he thought. The panic rising inside him did not touch his face. Alexis clicked her tongue softly. He had seconds to come up with something. How would a normal person react to this? More pressingly, how could someone stop it?
The answer came to him immediately.
“The entire thing?” Deen snapped. “Are you insane, man? I’ve got somewhere to be!”
The guard frowned. “You’ve come at a bad time. We were instructed to be thorough this shift. It’ll be my head if I let you pass without examining your grain.”
“You’ve examined enough,” Deen said. “Do you know how long I’ve been on the road? If this grain takes in any more moisture, it’ll be all of our clipping heads!”
“Be that as it may…” the guard said, and shook his head. The man was stern-faced now. Stubborn bastard was a good guard, he had to admit. He wouldn’t let them leave, but he did seem convinced they were merchants. How to make him relent…?
Deen pressed his foot on the pedal. The automobile jerked forward a few inches. The anger and determination that he wore was genuine. But so would be the merchant’s.
“Enough! You have your duty, and that’s all well and good and proper, but I have mine! This grain must be delivered. Try and stop me, guardsman. It will be both our heads. One way or another, it will be both our heads.”
Silence hung in the air. Through a rearview mirror, he saw Wolf shift forward in his seat. Deen squeezed his eyes shut. Had he blown it?
Then, the guard spoke. “Shut the crates, man. We’re letting them pass.” He muttered something too quiet for Deen to hear and stalked off.
Don’t underestimate the Ulciscor Guard, he thought proudly, letting out a long breath as he drove into Filose. We’re as stubborn as they come.
———
The fresh air devolving into a dank, musty smell told Luke that they had arrived in the city. Most Daevan cities stank.
“Here is fine,” Wolf said.
Doors opened and closed around him, and crates were shifted in front until they revealed the visage of Captain Daniels through an opening wide enough to squeeze through, illuminated from behind by the artificial glow of street lamp posts.
“Thanks,” Luke said, hopping onto a sidewalk and stretching.
His soreness faded while the others gathered around. He could almost swear he felt the presence of color, but his concentration was… well, normal. Perhaps it was his mind playing tricks, after all. Old man Snare had once told him that a man’s senses heightened if he were lacking one of them. And he had certainly been blind surrounded by crates and darkness in there.
Wolf motioned Cade and Daniels closer, and unfurled a map of Filose’s streets from his pocket and began explaining something quietly, tapping the map with his thumb and whispering. Aisha withdrew from her own pocket a cigarette and matchbox, smoke escaping her lips by the time Daniels nodded to the general and stepped back.
“If you find yourselves separated, return to the automobile first. Stay close to Daniels, Luke. He’ll keep you safe. Understood?” Wolf waited for Luke’s nod before continuing. “Good. Grab a crate and head toward that point. Aisha and I will take a different route.”
Aisha must have seen something on Luke’s face, for she fixed those sharp eyes of her on him and said, “Fewer numbers attract fewer eyes.” Then, of course, she offered one of those small smiles. He returned it with his best frown.
“Cade, you’re in charge,” Wolf said. “If a snap judgment is required, you are to listen to her orders. If the defenses are too great, we may simply have to pull out and leave.”
Confirming with all three of them that the orders were understood, the general dismissed them. The five of them each grabbed a crate of grain and began their separate treks of two and three into the Daevan city.
Frankly, losing half of his allies left Luke feeling nervous almost immediately. Major Cade was incredibly powerful, sure, but she couldn’t fight off an entire city of guards. He felt more vulnerable at that moment than he ever did as a homeless kid skulking around the market for scraps of food. Buildings loomed to either side like giants with random amounts of square eyes in haphazard patterns, windows flooding light from within. Gusts of wind brushed against his nondescript clothes, chilling him. Passersby were occasional, men holding hats against the wind hurrying home, people wearing oddly colored armbands, pairs of city patrols, but none paid them any notice. Each one sped up his heartbeat, though.
“Don’t glance around so skittishly. The important thing is to act like you belong,” Cade said quietly. “It’s all about playing the part. We’re supposed to live and work here, and that’s what we’re doing.” She strode easily down the broad road paved for automobiles, as if she really did live here.
Luke nodded and tried to settle his nerves, focusing on moving one foot, then the other. He was just some worker moving freight late into the night. Someone nobody noticed. Left, right, left, right. Flocks, this grain was heavier than he thought it’d be. Couldn’t they have emptied some of it out for him? He pushed the thought away feverishly. No. That’d just make him look like a kid. He could carry it as is.
He looked up at the crescent moon, mostly obfuscated by clouds. Was the sky clear where Cyrus was?
I wonder how he’s doing.
Cyrus had left that morning with some soldiers. How fast were they traveling? Maybe he had seen Castitas again by now. Whatever the case, regardless of what was going on there, it didn’t concern Luke. He had to focus on Filose.