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

by Glen Cook

  I found Banh Do Trang awaiting me in the little corner where I worked and slept. He did not look well, which was not surprising. He was not too many years younger than Goblin and did not have Goblin’s wondrous resources. “Can I be of any service, Uncle?”

  “I understand Doj told you the story of our people.” The best he could manage was a hoarse whisper.

  “He told me a story. There’re always doubts left behind when any Nyueng Bao shares a secret with me.”

  “Heh. Heh-heh. You’re a bright young woman, Sleepy. Few illusions and no obvious obsessions. I think Doj was as honest with you as he could compel himself to be. Assuming he was honest with me when he consulted me afterward. He finally heard me when I told him that this’s a new age. That that was what Hong Tray wanted to show us when she chose the jengal to become Sahra’s husband. We’re all lost children. We must join hands. That, too, is what Hong Tray wanted us to understand.”

  “She could’ve said so.”

  “She was Hong Tray. A seeress. A Nyueng Bao seeress. Would you have her issue blunt rescripts like the Radisha and Protector?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Do Trang chuckled. Then he seemed to fall asleep.

  Was that that? I wondered. “Uncle?”

  “Uh? Oh? I’m sorry, young woman. Listen. I don’t think anyone else has mentioned it. Maybe no one else but Gota and I have seen it. But there’s a ghost in this place. We’ve seen it several times the past two nights.”

  “A ghost?” Was Murgen getting so strong people were starting to see him?

  “It’s a cold and evil thing, Sleepy. Like something that’s happiest skulking around the mouths of graves or slithering through a mountain of bones. Like that vampire child in the tiger cage. You should be very wary of her. And I think I should find my way to bed. Before I fall asleep here and your friends begin to talk.”

  “If they’re going to gossip about me, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have them connect me with.”

  “Someday when I’m young again. Next time around the Wheel.”

  “Good night, Uncle.”

  I thought I might read for a while but I fell asleep almost instantly. Sometime during the night I discovered that Do Trang’s ghost did exist. I awakened, instantly alert, and saw a vaguely human shimmer standing nearby, evidently watching me. The old man had done a good job describing it, too. I wondered if it might not be Death Himself.

  It went away as soon as it sensed my scrutiny.

  I lay there trying to put it together. Murgen? Soulcatcher spying? An unknown? Or what it felt like, the girl in the tiger cage out for an ectoplasmic stroll?

  I tried reason but was still too tired to stick with it long.

  35

  There was something wrong with the city. In addition to its extraordinarily clean smell. The rain had continued throughout most of the night. And in addition to the stunned looks on the faces of street-dwellers, who had survived their worst night yet. No. It was a sort of bated-breath feeling that got stronger as I approached the library. Maybe it was some sort of psychic phenomenon.

  I stopped. The Captain used to say you had to trust your instincts. If it felt like something was wrong, then I should take time to figure out why I felt that way. I turned slowly.

  No street poor here. But that was understandable. There were dead people around here. The survivors would be clinging to whatever shelter they could find, afraid the Greys would replace the shadows by day. But the Greys were absent, too. And traffic was lighter than it should be. And most of the tiny one-man stalls that sprawled out into the thoroughfare were not in evidence.

  There was fear in the air. People expected something to happen. They had seen something that troubled them deeply. What that might be was not obvious, though. When I asked one of the merchants who was bold enough to be out, he ignored my question completely and tried to convince me that there was no way I could manage another day without a hammered-brass censer.

  In a moment I decided he might be right. I paused to speak to another brass merchant whose space lay within eyeshot of the library. “Where is everyone this morning?” I asked, examining a long-spouted teapot sort of thing with no real utility.

  A furtive shift of the merchant’s eyes toward the library suggested there was substance to my premonitions. And whatever had spooked him had taken place quite recently. No Taglian neighborhood remains quiet and empty for long.

  I seldom carry money but did have a few coins on me this morning. I bought the useless teapot. “A gift for my wife. For finally producing a son.”

  “You’re not from around here, are you?” the brass smith asked.

  “No. I’m from … Dejagore.”

  The man nodded to himself, as if that explained everything. When I started to move on, he murmured, “You don’t want to go that way, Dejagoran.”

  “Ah?”

  “Be in no hurry. Find a long way around that place.”

  I squinted at the library. I saw nothing unusual. The grounds appeared completely normal, though some men were working on the garden. “Ah.” I continued forward only till I could slide into the mouth of an alley.

  Why were there gardeners there? Only the Master Librarian ever brought them in.

  I caught glimpses of something wheeling above the library. It drifted down to settle on the ironwork of the gate, above Adoo’s head. I took it for a lone pigeon at first but when it folded its wings, I saw that it was a white crow. And a crow with a sharper eye than Adoo had. But Adoo was accustomed to posting himself in the gateway.

  That constituted another warning sign.

  The white crow looked right at me. And winked. Or maybe just blinked, but I preferred the implication of intelligence and conspiratorial camaraderie.

  The crow dropped onto Adoo’s shoulder. The startled gateman nearly jumped out of his sandals. The bird evidently said something. Adoo jumped again and tried to catch it. After he failed, he ran into the library. Moments later Shadar disguised as librarians and copyists rushed out and began trying to bring the crow down with stones. The bird got the heck out of there.

  I followed its example, heading in another direction. I was more alert than I had been in years. What was going on? Why were they there? Obviously they were lying in wait. For me? Who else? But why? What had I done to give myself away?

  Maybe nothing. Though failing to show up to be questioned would count as damning evidence. But I was not lunatic enough to try to bluff my way through whatever it was the Greys were trying to do.

  The milk was spilt. No going back. But I did want to mourn the one volume of ancient Annals I had not yet been able to locate and pilfer.

  All the way home I tried to reason out what had brought out the Greys. Surendranath Santaraksita had not been missing long enough to cause any official interest. In fact, some mornings the Master Librarian did not arrive until much later than this. I gave it up before I threw my brain out of joint. Murgen could go poking around down there. He could find the answer by eavesdropping.

  36

  Murgen was busy eavesdropping even though it was daytime. He was worried about Sahra and Tobo. And maybe even a little about Goblin. I found One-Eye, hung over but attentive, at the table where the mist engine resided. Mother Gota and Uncle Doj were there as well, tense and attentive themselves. Which told me that Sahra was determined to go ahead with our most daring stroke yet. To my amazement, One-Eye hustled over—in reality, a slow shuffle—and patted me on my back. “We heard you were coming in, Little Girl. We were scared shitless they were going to get you.”

  “What?”

  “Murgen warned us there was a trap. He heard some of the Grey bosses talking about it when he was scouting to see what Sahra was headed into. The old bitch Soulcatcher herself was out there waiting for you. Well, not exactly you personally, just somebody who goes around stealing books that aren’t supposed to be there in the first place.”

  “You’ve lost me good, old man. Start someplace where I can see a
couple of landmarks.”

  “Somebody followed you and your boyfriend yesterday. Somebody more suspicious of him than of you. Evidently a part-time spy for the Protector.”

  We knew there were informants out there getting paid piecework rates. We tried not to be vulnerable to them.

  “Also evidently with a boner for your boyfriend.”

  “One-Eye!”

  “All right. For your boss. More or less literally. He went and told the Greys that this dirty old man was about to force perversions on one of the youths who worked for him. A few Greys went to the library and started poking around and asking questions and quickly discovered that some funds had gone missing, and Santaraksita as well, when they started dragging people out of bed and pulling them in. Then they discovered several books missing also, including some great rarities and even a couple that were supposed to have been removed from the library years ago but had not been. That got back to Catcher. She got her sweet little behind down there in about ten seconds and started threatening to eat people alive and hurting anybody whose looks she didn’t like.”

  “And I almost walked into the middle of it.” I mused, “How did they know the books were gone? I replaced them with discards.” But maybe Master Santaraksita, if he was a crook, had been doing that, too.

  If he had been corrupt, he had had me fooled.

  We would have to talk.

  “Near as Murgen could find out, Dorabee Dey Banerjae isn’t suspected of anything worse than naïveté. Surendranath Santaraksita, though, is in deep shit. Soulcatcher is going to kill him one limb at a time and let him watch the crows eat them as they go. And after that she’s going to get nasty.” One-Eye grinned a grin in which just the one lonely tooth loomed. Not exactly a recommendation of his talents as the Company dental specialist.

  “Say what you like about Soulcatcher, she doesn’t put up with any corruption.”

  Which was just another black mark in her ledger as far as One-Eye was concerned.

  “I’m safe,” I said. “Here’s food for thought. A white crow was waiting at the gate, possibly to warn me. It made a definite attempt to communicate. So what’s the story with Sahra?”

  “She’s going ahead. That Jaul Barundandi is a real dimwit. He bought Goblin’s feeble imitation of your Sawa character. Then he tried to get Tobo away from Sahra. Sahra threatened to tell his wife.”

  Minh Subredil was going to have trouble staying employed if she kept up the bad attitude.

  “The cover team in place?”

  “Little Girl, who’s been doing this shit since before your great-grandmother was born?”

  “You always check again. And keep on checking. Because sooner or later, you’re going to save someone who overlooked something. Is the evacuation team operational?” Chances were good we were going to have to leave Taglios long before I wanted. Soulcatcher soon would be hunting us hard.

  One-Eye said, “Ask Do Trang. He said he’d take care of it. You might find it interesting to note that Catcher dropped the watch on Arjana Drupada when the library jumped to the head of her list and she needed trustworthy people there.”

  “She doesn’t have enough to go around?”

  “Not that she trusts. Most of those she’s had watching the Bhodi disciples so she can head them off before they pull any more suicide stunts.”

  “Then we have to hit Drupada—”

  “Go teach your granny to suck eggs, Little Girl. Like I said, who was playing these games when Granny’s mommy was still shitting her nappies?”

  “Who’s covering the warehouse, then?” Having so many things in the air meant that every brother had to be occupied somewhere. Soulcatcher was not alone in facing manpower limitations.

  “You and me, Little Girl. Pooch and Spiff are around somewhere, being a mixture of sentries and couriers.”

  “You’re sure Drupada is clean?”

  “Murgen checks every half hour. Much as he’d rather be haunting his honey. Friend Arjana is clean. For now. But how long will it last? And Murgen’s also been keeping an eye on Slink at Semchi. Checking him every couple of hours. Looks like that’s going to happen today, too. Soulcatcher is going to shit. She’s just going to shit rocks. We’re going to do everything but stroll up and bite her on the tit today.”

  “Language, old man. Language.”

  Uncle Doj murmured something.

  One-Eye hastened to the mist projector.

  37

  Despite her enthusiasm the night before, Sahra had been worried about having Goblin along, playing Sawa’s role. The little man was not reliable. He was bound to do something.…

  She did not give him enough credit. He had not survived so long by doing stupid things in tight places. He was determined to be more completely Sawa than ever I had played the role. He did nothing on his own. Minh Subredil guided him completely. But over his conservative role-playing he laid a glamour of disinterest. Jaul Barundandi and everyone else merely gave the idiot woman a glance and concentrated on Shiki, who appeared particularly attractive this morning. Who carried her flute hung on a thong around her neck. Anyone who tried to use force would suffer a cruel surprise.

  The flute was not new but the Ghanghesha that Shiki carried was. Today even Sawa carried a statue of the god. Jaul Barundandi mocked Subredil. “When will you start carrying a Ghanghesha in each hand?” This was after he had been threatened because of Shiki and he was not feeling kindly.

  Subredil bent and whispered to her Ghanghesha, something about pardoning Barundandi because at heart he was a good man who needed help finding his anchor within the light. Barundandi heard some of that. It disarmed him for a while.

  He turned the madwoman and her companions over to his wife, who had developed an almost proprietary interest lately. Subredil, in particular, made her look good because she got so much work done.

  Narita, too, noted the Ghanghesha. “If religious devotion will win you a better life next time around the Wheel, Subredil, you’re headed for the priestly class for sure.” Then the fat woman frowned. “But didn’t you leave your Ghanghesha here yesterday?”

  “Ah? Ah! Ah! I did? I thought I lost that one forever. I didn’t know what had become of it. Where is it? Where is it?” She had prepared for this, though the Ghanghesha had been left behind intentionally.

  “Easy. Easy.” Subredil’s love affair with her Ghanghesha amused everyone. “We took good care of it.”

  There was a lot of work scheduled for the day, which was good. It helped pass the time. Nothing else could be done till much later, and even then, luck would have to play a big part. Another dozen Ghangheshas would not have been out of place where the need for luck went.

  During the noon break, over kitchen scraps, Subredil’s party heard rumors of the Protector’s rage over someone having stolen some books from the royal library. She was out there now, investigating personally.

  Subredil shot warning looks at her companions. No questions. No worrying about the people they could not possibly help.

  Later in the day there were more rumors. The Purohita and several members of the Privy Council, along with bodyguards and hangers-on, had been treated to a wholesale slaughter on the very steps of the Kernmi What, in what sounded like a full-scale military assault supported by heavy sorcery. Reports were vague and confused because everyone but the attackers had been trying to find somewhere safe to hide.

  Subredil tried to take that into account but could not control her anger entirely. Kendo Cutter was too violent a man to have been in charge. And too devout a Vehdna. The Gunni were not going to be pleased about bloodshed happening on the very steps of a major temple.

  There was much talk about the signs and portents thrown up as cover and diversion while the attackers faded away. There would be no doubt who had been responsible, nor even who was next on the list of the doomed. Any smoke cloud that did not declare “Water Sleeps” thundered “My Brother Unforgiven.”

  It had been rumored only for a day that the Great General had
been summoned to Taglios to deal with the dead who refused to lie down. To the people in the street, it looked like the Company would be waiting.

  Sahra was worried. Soulcatcher was sure to abandon the library when she heard about the attack. If she returned to the Palace extremely agitated, Sahra’s operation might have to be abandoned because the sorceress would be too alert.

  The Radisha stormed through not long after the news began to make the rounds. She was distraught. She headed directly for her Anger Chamber. Sawa looked up from the brasswork she was cleaning, just for an instant, apparently badly troubled. Subredil set her mop aside and went to see what was wrong. No one else paid them any attention.

  Not much later, when Jaul Barundandi dropped in to see how the work was going and somehow got into an argument with Narita, Sawa wandered away when no one was looking. No one noticed right away because Sawa almost never did anything to be noticed and today she wore charms reinforcing that.

  Shiki drifted closer to her mother. She looked pale and troubled and kept touching her flute. She whispered, “Shouldn’t we be going?”

  “It isn’t time. Place your Ghanghesha.” Shiki was supposed to have done that hours ago.

  Rumor rushed through, pursued by uglier rumor still. The Protector had returned and she was in a frothing rage. She was visiting her shadows now. It was going to be another night of terror in the streets of Taglios.

  The women started talking about the possible wisdom of finishing work before the Protector decided she had to see the Radisha. The Protector would not respect the privacy of the Princess. She made no secret of her contempt for Taglian custom. Even Narita seemed to hold the opinion that it would be best not to be where you could be seen when the Protector was in a mood.

  At that point Shiki discovered that her aunt was missing.

  “Damn it, Subredil!” Narita fumed. “You promised you’d watch her closer the last time this happened.”

  “I’m sorry, mistress. I became so frightened. She probably decided to go to the kitchen. That was what she was trying to do when she got lost last time.”