by Glen Cook
In the back of Smoke’s mind, always, was the temptation to take his own advice, to bring the Company’s captain in and turn him loose on the books, if only to see how he responded to the truth.
30
Taglios Aroused
We approached Taglios with the dawn, days late, all of us at the brink of collapse, Swan and his buddies maybe worse off than the rest. Their mundane mounts were wiped out. I asked Swan, “You figure the Prahbrindrah will be overly pissed because I didn’t keep my appointment?”
Swan still had a little pepper left. “What the hell can he do? Put a bug down your shirt? He’ll swallow it and smile. You worry about the Woman. She’s the one who’ll give you trouble. If anybody does. She don’t always think right.”
“Priests,” Blade said.
“Yeah. Watch out for the priests. They sprung this whole thing on them the day you guys landed. They couldn’t do anything but go along. But they been thinking about it, you can bet your butt, and when they find them an angle they’re going to start messing.”
“What’s Blade’s thing with priests?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to know. But I been down here long enough to start thinking he’s maybe right. The world might be better off if we drowned some of them.”
One thing that made the military situation wonderfully impossible was the absence of fortifications. Taglios itself sprawled everywhere, without a thought to defense.
A people with centuries of pacifism behind them. An enemy with experienced armies and high-power sorcerers to support them. And me with maybe a month to figure out how to help the former whip the latter.
Impossible. When those rivers went down so troops could cross the massacre would be on.
Swan asked, “You make up your mind what you’re going to do?”
“Yeah. The Prahbrindrah isn’t going to like it, either.”
That surprised him. I did not explain. Let them worry. I took my bunch in to the barracks and sent Swan off to announce our return. As we dismounted, with half the Company hanging around waiting to hear something, Murgen said, “I guess Goblin’s made up his mind.”
Something had been preying on the little wizard. He had been broody and curt all the way home. Now he was grinning. He gave special attention to his saddlebags.
Mogaba joined me. “We’ve made major progress while you were gone, Captain. I’ll report when you feel up to it.” His question remained unspoken.
I saw no need to leave it hanging. “We can’t sneak through. They’ve got us. It’s fight or turn back.”
“Then there is no option, is there?”
“I guess there never was. But I had to see for myself.”
He nodded his understanding.
Before business I tended wounds. Lady was coming back fast. Her bruises, though, did nothing to make her more attractive. I felt odd examining her. She had had little to say since our night in the rain. She was doing a lot of thinking again.
Mogaba had a lot to tell me about discussions with Taglios’s religious leaders and his ideas for putting together the pretense of an army. I could find nothing in his suggestions I disapproved. He said, “There’s one other thing. A priest named Jahamaraj Jah, number two man in the Shadar cult. He has a daughter he thinks is dying. It looks like a chance to make a friend.”
“Or get somebody thoroughly pissed.” Never underestimate the power of human ingratitude.
“One-Eye saw her.”
I looked at the little witch doctor. He said, “Looked like her appendix to me, Croaker. Not that far gone yet, either. But these clowns around here don’t have the foggiest. They’re trying to exorcise demons.”
“I haven’t opened anybody up in years. How long before it bursts?”
“Another day at least, unless she’s unlucky. I did what I could for the pain.”
“I’ll check it on the way back from the Palace. Make me a map.… No. You’d better tag along. You might be useful.” Mogaba and I were getting dressed for a court appearance now. Lady was supposed to be doing the same.
Swan, not at all improved in appearance, showed up to take us to the Prince. I did not feel like doing anything but take a nap. I sure did not feel up to the games of politicians. But I went.
The people of Trogo Taglios had heard that the moment of decision had come. They were in the streets to watch us. They remained eerily silent.
I saw dread in all those watching eyes, but hope, too. They were aware of the risks, and maybe even of the odds against them. A pity they did not realize that a battlefield is not a wrestling ring.
Once a child cried. I shivered, hoping it was not an omen. As we neared the Trogo an old man stepped out of the crowd and pressed something into my hand. He bowed himself away.
It was a Company badge from olden times. An officer’s badge, perhaps booty from some forgotten battle. I fixed it near the badge I wore already, the fire-breathing death’s-head of Soulcatcher, which we had retained though we no longer served the Taken or the empire.
Lady and I had outfitted ourselves in our finest, meaning I wore my legate’s duds and she her imperial rig. We impressed the mob. Beside us Mogaba looked drab. One-Eye looked like a derelict scraped off the bottom of the worst dive in the worst slum. That damned hat. He was as happy as a snail.
“Showmanship,” Lady had told me. An old maxim of my own, albeit directed somewhat differently. “In politics and battle our big weapon will have to be showmanship.”
She was coming to life. I think those brown guys pissed her off.
She was right. Showmanship and craft, even more than traditionally, would have to be our tools. If we were to meet and beat the veteran armies commanded by the Shadowmasters we would have to gain our triumphs inside the imaginations of enemy soldiers. It takes ages to create a force with the self-confidence to go slug it out despite the odds.
* * *
Despite our being late the Prahbrindrah Drah was a gracious host. He treated us to a dinner the likes of which I have no hope of seeing again. Afterward, he laid on the entertainment. Dancing girls, sword swallowers, illusionists, musicians whose work my ear found too alien to appreciate. He was in no hurry to get to an answer of which he was confident. During the afternoon Swan introduced me to several score of Taglios’s leading men, including Jahamaraj Jah. I told Jah I would look at his daughter as soon as I could. The gratitude in the man’s face was embarrassing.
Otherwise, I paid no attention to those men. I had no intention of dealing with or through them.
The time came. We were invited out of the crowd into a private chamber. Because I had brought two of my lieutenants the Prahbrindrah did the same. One was that codger Smoke, whom the Prince introduced by title. That translated out as Lord of the Guardians of Public Safety. And that turned out to mean he was boss of the city fire brigade.
Only One-Eye failed to keep a straight face.
The Prahbrindrah’s other lieutenant was his enigmatic sister. Put them together and it was obvious she was older and probably tougher than he. Even dressed up she looked like she had been ridden hard and put away wet.
When the Prahbrindrah asked about my companions I introduced Mogaba as my commander of infantry and Lady as my chief of staff. The idea of a woman soldier amazed him. I wondered how much more amazed he would be if he knew her history.
She concealed surprise at the designation. As much for her benefit as the Prahbrindrah’s, I said, “There’s nobody in the Company more qualified. With the possible exception of the Captain, each post is filled on merit.”
Swan was doing the translating. He skirted the edge of the Prahbrindrah’s reply, which, I think, actually suggested limited agreement. His sister seemed to be his brain trust.
“To the point,” I told Swan. “Time is too tight if we’re going to stop an invasion.”
Swan smiled. “Then you’re going to accept the commission?”
You never doubted it for a second, you jackal. “Don’t get your hopes too high, man. I�
��m going to make a counteroffer. Its terms won’t be negotiable.”
Swan’s smile vanished. “I don’t understand.”
“I’ve looked at the land. I’ve talked with my people. Despite the lay, most of them want to go on. We know what we have to do to get to Khatovar. Meaning we’ll consider doing the job your prince wants done. But we won’t try it except on our terms. Tell him that, then I’ll give him the sad news.”
Swan translated. The Prahbrindrah did not look happy. His sister looked like she wanted a fight. Swan faced me. “Let’s have it.”
“If I’m supposed to run an army that I’ll have to build from scratch, I want to have the power to do it. I want to be the boss. No interference from anybody. No political crap. No cult feuding. Even the will of the Prince will have to yield for the duration. I don’t know if there’s a Taglian word for what I want. I can’t think of a Rosean word, either. In the Jewel Cities the man in the job I want is called ‘dictator.’ They elect him for a year at a time. Tell him that.”
Was the Prahbrindrah happy? Sure he was. About as happy as any prince in that fix. He started lawyering, trying to bury me in ifs, ands, and buts. I smiled a lot.
“I said I wouldn’t negotiate, Swan. I meant it. The only chance I see is for us to do what needs doing when it’s got to be done, not six weeks later, after the ruffled feathers have been smoothed, the special interests have had their say, and the graft has been got out.”
Mogaba had on the biggest smile I’d ever seen from him. He was having fun listening. Maybe he’d always wanted to talk that way to his bosses in Gea-Xle.
I said, “The way I hear it, in about five weeks the rivers will be down enough that the Shadowmasters can put their troops across the Main. They won’t have internal problems slowing them down. They’ll have every advantage but the Black Company on their side. So if the Prahbrindrah wants even a prayer of winning, he has to give me the tools I need. If he doesn’t, I walk. I find some other way. I won’t commit suicide.”
Swan translated. We sat around looking tough and professional and stubborn. Lady and Mogaba did fine. I thought I might blow it by being nervous, but I did not. The Prahbrindrah never tried to call my bluff. He argued, but never so hard I might lose my temper and stomp out. I never gave an inch. I honestly believed that the only chance, and that a ghost of a hope, lay in an absolute military dictatorship. And I had a little inside word, thanks to Frogface.
“Hey, Swan. Are these people in even bigger trouble than they’ve admitted?”
“What?” He cast a nervous glance at the imp.
“Your boss isn’t trying to talk me out of anything. He’s lawyering. Politicking. Wasting time. I get the feeling that down deep he’s scared to death. He agrees with me. Only he don’t want to have to make the choice between evils. Because then he has to live with his choice.”
“Yeah. Maybe. The Shadowmasters are going to be coming mean after what we did last summer. Going to make an example of us, maybe.”
“I’ll want the veterans of that business. We’ll turn them into squad leaders. Assuming I get to be boss soldier around here.”
“There is an archaic Taglian word meaning warlord. You’ll get your way. It’s been argued out in council. The High Priests don’t like it, but they don’t have any choice. Priests were the first people the Shadowmasters rubbed out wherever they took over. He can make any deal he has to. They’re scared, man. After you win is when you got to start worrying.”
All I had to do was go on sitting tight. But I had come into the meeting with that assurance from Frogface.
The damned imp grinned and winked at me.
The day rolled on into night and we had to have another meal, but we sealed our pact.
For the first time since Juniper the Company had a real commission.
Or vice versa.
The Prahbrindrah wanted to know my plans. He was not dumb. He knew Mogaba had been putting in twenty-hour days.
“Put together a big flashy show for the gang that comes across the Main, mostly. But we’ll recruit and train for harder times down the line too, assuming we handle that first bunch. While we’re at it, we’ll get an idea of what resources are available and how best to employ them. We’ll root out enemy agents here and try to establish our own over there. We’ll learn the terrain where the fighting may take place. Swan. I keep hearing about how little time we have till the rivers go down. How long will they stay down? How long till the next grace period?”
He translated, then said, “There’ll be six to seven months when there won’t be enough rain to close the fords. Even after the rainy season starts there’ll be two or three months when they’re passable part of the time.”
“Wonderful. We got here in the middle of the safe season.”
“Just about. We could get more than five weeks. That’s a worst estimate.”
“We can count on it, then. Tell him we’ll need a lot of help from the state. We have to have weapons, armor, mounts, rations, drays, drayage, equipment. We need a census of all males between sixteen and forty-five, with their skills and occupations. I want to know who to conscript if I don’t get volunteers. A census of animals would be helpful. Likewise, a census of weapons and equipment available. And a census of fortifications and places that could be used as fortresses. You should know a lot of this from last summer. Do you write the lingo here, Swan?”
He translated, then said, “No. I can’t figure out the alphabet. ’Course, I never learned to read or write Rosean, neither.” He grinned. “Not Cordy, neither.”
“Blade?”
“You kidding?”
“Wonderful. Find me somebody who can. It’s all right if he’s one of the Radisha’s spies. Two birds with one stone. I’ll want you and him both attached to me at the hip till I learn the language. All right. What I need right now is for him to get out the word that volunteers should assemble in the Chandri Square an hour after dawn tomorrow.” The Chandri Square was near our barracks and one of the biggest in Taglios. “They should bring any weapons or equipment they have. We’ll pick twenty-five hundred to start training immediately and enroll the rest for later.”
“You may be too optimistic.”
“I thought these people were eager to get into it.”
“They are. But tomorrow is a holy day for the Gunni cults. That takes in four-tenths of the lower classes. When they sit down nobody else can do anything, either.”
“There aren’t any holidays in a war. They better get used to that right now. They don’t show up, that’s tough. They get left behind. Tell the Prince to spread the word that the guys who volunteer earliest are the guys who’re going to get the best deal. But everybody starts at the bottom. Even him, if he enlists. I don’t know the class structures here and I don’t care. I’ll make a prince carry a spear and have a farm boy command a legion if that’s what the man can do best.”
“That attitude’s going to cause problems, Cap. And even if they elect you god you’re going to have to walk careful around the priests.”
“I’ll deal with them when I have to. The politics I can probably handle. I can twist arms and smooth fur if I have to, though mainly I just won’t put up with it. Tell the Prince he should hang around my headquarters some. Things will go smoother if people think he’s part of what’s happening.”
Swan and the Prince chattered. The Radisha gave me a searching look, then a smile that said she knew what I was up to. The devil in me made me wink.
Her smile broadened.
I decided I should know more about her. Not because I was attracted to her but because I suspected I would like the way she thought. I like a person with a sound cynical attitude.
Old Smoke, the so-called fire chief, did nothing all evening but nod off and start awake. Being a cynic, I approved of him as a public official. The best kind are those who stay the hell out of the way and don’t mess with things. Except for me, of course.
“One thing left for tonight,” I told Swan. “Financing.
The Black Company don’t come cheap. Neither does creating, arming, training, and maintaining an army.”
Swan grinned. “They got you covered, Cap. Back when they first heard the prophecies of your coming they started raising money. It won’t be a problem.”
“It’s always a problem.”
He smiled. “You won’t be able to spend like there ain’t no bottom to the bucket. The Woman hangs on to the purse strings around here. And she’s famous for being tight.”
“Good enough. Ask the Prince if there’s anything else he needs now. I’ve got a ton of stuff to do.”
There was another hour of talk, none of it important, all of it the Prahbrindrah and Radisha trying to get an idea what I was planning, trying to get a clearer picture of my character and competence. Giving a stranger life-and-death power over their state was one long bet for them. I figured I’d do a little something to help their underground scheme.
I became impatience itself, but was proud of me. I controlled it.
* * *
Walking home after dark, without crowds, I asked Lady, “Can we count on Shifter’s help?”
“He’ll do what I tell him.”
“You’re sure?”
“Not absolutely. It looks that way, though.”
“Could he do some scouting over Shadowmaster country? Shifting into something that flies?”
“Maybe.” She smiled. “But he wouldn’t have strength enough to carry you. And I know you. You wouldn’t trust a report from anybody but you.”
“Well…”
“You’ll have to take your chances. Trust him as much as you dare. He’ll serve me if I command him. But he isn’t my slave. He has his own goals now. They may not be your goals.”
I thought it might be a good time to sneak up on something I’d been sliding around since I’d caught her playing with fire in a cup overlooking Gea-Xle. “And your own restored talent?”
She was not fazed. “You’re kidding. I might bother Goblin if I sneaked up on him and hit him with a hammer. Otherwise, I’m useless. Even small talents have to be exercised to be any good. There’s no time for exercise.”
