The Many Deaths of the Black Company (Chronicle of the Black Company)

by Glen Cook

  “I swear it on the Annals.” This was too easy. “I won’t say a word to a soul.” But I did not say anything about not writing it down.

  I did not extract an oath from him.

  Sometime, eventually, he would face the moral dilemma that had swallowed the Radisha once it seemed that the Company would fulfill its obligation to her and it was coming time for her to deliver on her own commitments. Once Uncle Doj had his own people out from under the glittering stone, his reliability as an ally would turn to smoke.

  Easily dealt with when the time came, I thought. I told Doj, “I still have to work tomorrow. And it’s a whole lot later now than it was an hour ago.”

  He rose, evidently relieved that I had not asked many questions. I did have a few in mind, such as why the Nyueng Bao had risked more frequent pilgrimages to the Shadowgate once the Shadowmasters were in power, adding women and children and old people to the entourage. So I asked anyway, while we were walking.

  He told me, “The Shadowmasters permitted it. It added to their feelings of superiority. And it let us keep them thinking that we didn’t have the real Key, that we were searching for it. Our own people believed that was what we were doing. Only Ky Dam and Hong Tray knew the whole truth. The Shadowmasters were hoping we’d find it for them.”

  “The Thousand Voices figured it out.”

  “Yes. Her crows went everywhere and heard everything.”

  “And in those days she had a very sneaky demon at her beck and call.” I continued to pester him all the way back to the warehouse, cleverly trying to find his remaining secrets by coloring in more map around the blank places.

  I did not fool him a bit.

  Before I dragged off to bed, I visited Sahra, Murgen and Goblin one more time. “You people get all of that?”

  “Most of it,” Murgen said. “This weary old slave has been doing some other chores, too.”

  “Think he told the truth?”

  “Mostly,” Sahra admitted. “He told no lies that I noticed, but I don’t think he told the whole truth.”

  “Well, of course not. He’s Nyueng Bao right down to his twisted toe bones. And a wizard besides.”

  Before Sahra got indignant, Goblin told me, “There was a white crow out there with you.”

  “I saw it,” I said. “I figured it was Murgen.”

  Murgen said, “It wasn’t Murgen. I was there disembodied. Same as now.”

  “What was it, then? Who was it?”

  “I don’t know,” Murgen replied.

  I did not entirely believe him. Maybe it was a false intuition but I was sure he had a strong suspicion.

  33

  Master Santaraksita hardly waited till there were no eavesdroppers before he approached me. “Dorabee, your record is beginning to look bad. Two days ago you were late. Yesterday you didn’t show up at all. This morning you don’t look alert and ready for work.”

  I was not. I would have been testy with anyone else. In this case I barely noticed that his words were not spoken in a tone in keeping with their content. I sensed relief in him at my return and a lingering whiff of a fear that I would not. I lied. “I had a fever. I couldn’t stay on my feet for more than few minutes at a time. I tried to come in but I was so weak I got lost for a while and eventually ended up just going home.”

  “Should you even be here today, then?” Changing course, sounding overly worried.

  “I have a little more strength today. I have a lot of work to do. I really want to keep this job, Sri. None other would put me so close to so much wisdom.”

  “Where is home, Dorabee?” I had collected my broom. He was following me. Eyes were following us, some with a knowing look that told me Santaraksita may have pursued other young men in the past.

  I was ready for this one because I knew he had tried to follow me. “I share a small room near the waterfront in the Sirada neighborhood with several friends from the army.” A common situation throughout Taglios, where men outnumber women almost two to one because so many men have come in from the Territories, hoping to make their fortunes.

  “Why didn’t you go home when you came back, Dorabee?”

  Oh-oh. “Sri?”

  “Your mother, your brothers, your sisters, and their wives and husbands and children all still dwell in the same place where you lived as a child. They believed you were dead.”

  Oh, darn! He had gone to see them? The busybody. “I don’t get along with those people, Sri.” Which was an outright lie on behalf of Dorabee Dey Banerjae. The man I had known had been very close to his family. “When I came back from the Kiaulune wars, I was so horribly changed that they wouldn’t have recognized me. Had I gone home, it wouldn’t have been long before they found out things about me that would’ve caused them to disown me. I preferred to let them think Dorabee was dead. The boy they remembered no longer exists anyway.”

  I hoped he would interpret that according to his own wishful thinking.

  He bit. “I understand.”

  “I’m grateful for your concern, Sri. If you will excuse me?” I went to work.

  I worked briskly, deep in thought. What I needed to do required me to let myself be seduced. I had no experience along those lines, from either of the possible viewpoints. But the old men tell me I am clever, and after a while I thought I saw a way by which events could proceed as desired without Surendranath Santaraksita putting himself in a position of emotional or moral risk greater than he had when he tried to follow me home and I had to send Tobo out to rescue him. Which, of course, he did not know.

  I had a weak spell toward mid-morning, at a point where old Baladitya could repay his small debt by being solicitous. By the time Master Santaraksita manufactured a reasonable excuse to put himself into my proximity, I had collected myself and was back at work.

  A few hours later I contrived to throw up my lunch, then made a show of cleaning up. I suffered dizzy spells later still. The last occurred after most of the librarians and copyists had gone home, despite the threat of further showers. The afternoon storm had not been as terrible as most. Taglians generally viewed that as a bad omen.

  Santaraksita played his part perfectly. He was beside me before my spell was over. Nervously, he suggested, “You’d better quit now, Dorabee. You’ve put in more than your day’s work. The rest will be here tomorrow. I’ll walk along with you to make sure you’re all right.”

  A relapse threatened as I began to protest that that was not necessary. So I said, “Thank you, Sri. Your generosity knows no bounds. What about Baladitya?” The old copyist’s grandson had failed to show again.

  “He’s practically on our way. We’ll just leave him off first.” I tried to think of some small act or something I could say that would encourage Santaraksita’s fantasy, but could not. That proved unnecessary, anyway. The man was determined to hook himself. All because I knew how to read.

  Weird.

  Riverwalker just happened to be hanging around outside when Master Santaraksita, Baladitya and I left the library grounds. I made a little gesture to let him know we were going to do it. More signs and gestures along the way let him know that the old man should be rounded up as soon as Santaraksita and I left him. He was a witness who could say that the Master Librarian had been seen last in my company. And he might be useful.

  Not far from the warehouse, I suffered another mild spell. Santaraksita put an arm around me to help. I drifted back into my safe place some and went on with the game. By now we were surrounded, at a distance, by Company brothers. “Just straight ahead,” I told Santaraksita, who was becoming confused by the outer web of spells. “Just hold my hand.”

  Moments later a gentle tap at the base of the Master Librarian’s skull let me step away from my uncomfortable role.

  * * *

  “Here I’m known as Sleepy. I’m the Annalist of the Black Company. I brought you here to assist in the translation of material recorded by some of my earliest predecessors.”

  Santaraksita began to fuss. Kendo Cu
tter placed a hand over his mouth and nose so he could not breathe. After several such episodes, even a member of the priestly class recognized the connection between silence and unimpeded breathing.

  I told him, “We have a pretty cruel reputation, Sri. And it’s rightly deserved. No, I’m not Dorabee Dey Banerjae. Dorabee did die during the Kiaulune wars. Fighting on our side.”

  “What do you want?” In a shaky voice.

  “Like I said, we need to translate some old books. Tobo, get the books from my worktable.”

  The boy went away grumbling about why was it always he who had to run and fetch.

  Master Santaraksita was very put out when he discovered that some of what I wanted translated had been pilfered from his own restricted stacks. In fact, when I told him, “I want to start with this one,” and showed him what I believed to be the earliest of the Annals, he lost some color.

  “I’m doomed, Dorabee … I’m sorry, young man. Sleepy, was it?”

  “Haw!” One-Eye bellowed, having appeared only moments before. “Did you ever go sniffing up the wrong tree. My little darling Sleepy, here, is all girl.”

  I smirked. “Darn! Here we go again, Sri. Now you have to get your mind around the fact that a woman can read. Ah. Here’s Baladitya. You’ll be working with him. Thank you, River. Did you run into any trouble?”

  Santaraksita began to balk again. “I won’t—”

  Kendo silenced him again.

  “You’ll translate and you’ll work hard at it, Sri. Or we won’t feed you. We aren’t the bhadrhalok. We quit talking about it a long time ago. We’re doing it. It’s just your misfortune to get caught up in it.”

  Sahra arrived. She was soaked. “It’s raining again. I see you landed your fish.” She collapsed into a chair, considered Surendranath Santaraksita. “I’m exhausted. My nerves were on edge all day. The Protector returned from the swamp at noon. She was in a totally foul mood. She had a huge argument with the Radisha, right in front of us.”

  “The Radisha stood up to her?”

  “She did. She’s reached her limit. Another Bhodi disciple came this morning but the Greys stopped him from burning himself. Then the Protector announced that she was going to take the night away from us by letting the shadows run loose from now on. That’s when the Radisha started screaming.”

  Santaraksita looked so completely appalled by the implications of Sahra’s revelations that I had to laugh. “No,” he insisted. “It’s not funny.” Then we discovered that he was not really concerned about the shadows. “The Protector is going to clip my ears. At the very least. These books weren’t supposed to be in the library at all. I was supposed to have destroyed them ages ago, but I couldn’t do that to any book. Then I forgot about them. I should’ve locked them up somewhere.”

  “Why?” Sahra snapped. She did not get an answer.

  I asked her, “Did you make any headway?”

  “I didn’t get a chance to pick up any pages. I did get into the Radisha’s suite. I did eavesdrop on her and Soulcatcher. And I did pick up a little other information.”

  “For example?”

  “For example, the Purohita and all the sacerdotal members of the Privy Council will be leaving the Palace tomorrow to attend a convocation of senior priests in preparation for this year’s Druga Pavi.”

  The Druga Pavi is the biggest Gunni holiday of the Taglian year. Taglios, with all its numerous cults and countless minorities, boasted some holiday almost every day, but the Druga Pavi beggared all the rest.

  “But that doesn’t come up until after the end of the rainy season.” I had a funny feeling about this.

  “I got a premonition from it myself,” Sahra admitted.

  “River, take the Master and copyist and make sure they’re as comfortable as we can make them here. Have Goblin provide them with chokers and make sure they understand how they work.” I asked Sahra, “Did you happen to hear about this before or after Soulcatcher got back from terrorizing the swamp?”

  “After, of course.”

  “Of course. She suspects something. Kendo. As soon as it’s light out tomorrow, I want you to head for the Kernmi What. See what you can find out about this meeting without giving away how interested you are. If you see a lot of Greys or other Shadar around, don’t bother. Just get back here with that word.”

  “Suppose this’s a genuine opportunity?” Sahra asked.

  “It’ll stay genuine as long as they’re outside the Palace. Won’t it?”

  “Maybe it would be best to just kill them. Put some flash buttons on the corpses. That would make Soulcatcher really mad.”

  “Wait. I’m having a thought. It might just be straight from al-Shiel.” I waved a finger in the air as though counting musical beats. “Yes. That’s it. We need to hope the Protector is trying to bait a trap with the Purohita.” I explained my thinking.

  “That’s good,” Sahra said. “But if we’re going to make it work, you and Tobo will have to go inside with me.”

  “And I can’t. There’s no way I can miss work the day after Master Santaraksita disappears. Get Murgen. See if he was around the Palace today. Find out if there’s a trap and where it’s at. If Soulcatcher is going to be away, maybe you and Tobo can do it on your own.”

  “I don’t want to belittle your genius, Sleepy, but this is something I’ve thought about a lot. Off and on for years. The possibility is partly why I keep trying to worm my way closer to the center of things. The truth is, it can’t be managed by fewer than three people. I need Shiki and I need Sawa.”

  “Let me think.” Sahra got Murgen’s attention while I thought. Murgen seemed to be more alert and more interested in the outside world now, particularly where his wife and son were concerned. He must have begun to understand. “I’ve got it, Sahra! We can have Goblin be Sawa.”

  “Ain’t no fucking way,” Goblin said. He repeated himself four or five times in as many languages, just in case somebody missed his point. “What the fuck is the matter with you, woman?”

  “You’re as small as I am. We rub a little betel-nut juice on your face and hands, dress you up in my Sawa outfit, have Sahra sew your mouth shut so you can’t shoot it off every time the urge hits you, nobody will know the difference. As long as you keep looking down, which is what Sawa mostly does.”

  “That may be a solution,” Sahra said, ignoring Goblin’s continued protests. “In fact, the more I think about it the better I like it. No disrespect meant but in a major pinch, Goblin would be a lot more useful than you would.”

  “I know. There you go. And I could go ahead and be Dorabee Dey besides. Isn’t it wonderful?”

  “Women,” Goblin grumbled. “Can’t live with them but they won’t go away.”

  Sahra said, “You’d better start learning Sawa’s quirks from Sleepy.” To me she said, “There’ll be plenty of work for Sawa. I made sure. And Narita is eager to get her back. Tobo, you need to get some sleep. Nobody’s connected you with Gokhale but you’ll still need to be alert.”

  “I really don’t like going up there, Mom.”

  “You think I do? We all have—”

  “Yes. I think you do. I think you keep going up there because you want the danger. I think it might be hard for you when you do have to stop taking risks. I think when that happens, we’re all going to have to watch you close so you don’t do something that might get us all killed along with you.”

  That was a kid who had been doing a lot of thinking. Maybe with a little help from one or more uncles. Sounded to me like he might be riding knee to knee with the truth, too.

  34

  I settled into a chair outside the cage where Narayan Singh was being kept. He was awake but he ignored me. I said, “The Daughter of Night still lives.”

  “I know that.”

  “You do? How?”

  “I’d know if you’d harmed her.”

  “Then you need to know this. She isn’t going to stay unharmed a whole lot longer. The only reason she’s healthy now is that we
want your cooperation. If we can’t get it, then there’s not much reason to keep on feeding her. Or you, either. Though I do intend to keep my word about taking care of you. Because I’d want you to see everything you value destroyed before you’re allowed to die yourself. Which reminds me. Aridatha couldn’t be with us tonight. His captain was concerned that there might be some unrest. Another Bhodi disciple planned to burn himself. So we’ll have to wait until tomorrow night.”

  Narayan made a sound like a whispered moan. He did not want to have to acknowledge my existence, for existence, and mine in particular, was making him very unhappy. Which made me happy, though I had no personal grudge. My enmity was all very sanitary, very institutional, very much on behalf of my brothers who had been injured. And on behalf of my brothers who were imprisoned beneath the earth.

  I suggested, “Maybe you should go to Kina for guidance.”

  Such a look he gave me. Narayan Singh had no sense of humor and did not recognize sarcasm when it struck from the grass and sank its fangs in his ankle.

  I told him, “Just to recap: I don’t have much patience left. I don’t have much time left. We’ve leaped onto the tiger’s back. The big catfight is coming.”

  Catfight. Universal male slang for a squabble amongst women.

  Oh, really?

  It had just occurred to me. We were all women in this fight. Sahra and I. The Radisha and Soulcatcher. Kina and the Daughter of Night. Uncle Doj was as close to a principal as any man was right now. And Narayan, though he was mainly the Daughter of Night’s shadow.

  Strange. Strange.

  “Narayan, when the fur starts flying, I won’t be much interested in looking out for your friend. But I’m definitely going to take care of you.”

  I started to leave.

  “I can’t do this thing.” Singh’s voice was almost inaudible.

  “Work on it, Narayan. If you love the girl. If you don’t want your goddess to have to start all over from scratch.” I thought I had that much power. By killing the right people, I could lay Kina down to sleep for another age. And I would if I could not get my own brothers out of the ground.