by Glen Cook
It had to be lonely to be her, too.
Subtlety and finesse.
I asked, “What did we do today to frighten the world?” Then I realized that I knew the answer. It had been part of the plan for capturing Swan. All the brotherhood would have avoided any risks. Tonight there would be shows from buttons previously planted. There would be more again tomorrow night. Smoke-and-light shows proclaiming “Water sleeps,” or “My brother unforgiven,” or “All their days are numbered.” There would be more, somewhere, every evening from now on.
Sahra mused, “Someone who wasn’t one of us brought in another prayer wheel and mounted it on a memorial post outside the north entrance. It hadn’t been noticed yet when I left.”
“Same message?”
“I presume.”
“That’s scary. That could be a potent one. Rajadharma.”
“It has the Radisha thinking already. That monk burning himself definitely got her attention.”
Story of my life. Here I spend months working out every tiny detail of a marvelous plan and I get upstaged by a lunatic with a fire fetish.
“So those Bhodi nuts found a good message. You think we could steal some of their thunder?”
One-Eye chuckled evilly.
“What?” I demanded.
“Sometimes I amaze myself.”
Goblin, about to leave with Runmust and Kendo, observed, “You been amazed at yourself for two hundred years. Mainly’cause nobody else bothers to get interested in insects.”
“You better not go to sleep any time soon, Frogface —”
“Gentlemen?” Sahra said. Gently. Yet she grabbed the attention of both wizards. “Can we stick to business? I need some sleep.”
“Absolutely!” Goblin said. “Absolutely! If the old fart has an idea, let’s get it out here before it dies of loneliness.”
“You may continue your assignment.”
Goblin stuck out his tongue but left.
“Amaze the rest of us, One-Eye,” I suggested. I did not want him dozing off before he shared his wisdom.
“Next time one of those Bhodi loons lights himself up, we have the smoke and flames carry our message. ‘Water Sleeps.’ And a new one I thunk up, ‘Nor Even Death Destroy.’ You got to admit, that’s got a nice religious ring to it.”
“Indeed,” I agreed. “What the heck does it mean?”
“Little Girl, don’t you start in on me.”
The ghost of evils past whispered, “I found them.”
Murgen was back.
I did not ask who. “Where?”
“The Thieves’ Garden.”
“Chor Bagan? The Greys have it under siege.”
And they were still serious about getting the place cleaned out, Murgen said.
17
Sahra wakened me well before dawn, which is not my best time of day. When I opted for a military career, we were besieged in my hometown. I just knew that once we got out of there, we would sleep till noon, we would eat fresh food all the time and there would be plenty of it and never, ever, would we have to go out in the rain again. In the meantime, I took the best I could get, which was the Black Company during the siege, with the water fifty feet deep. The only thing resembling fresh food was the long pig Mogaba and his Nar friends were enjoying. Unless you counted the occasional lame rat or slow-witted crow.
“What?” I grumbled. Personally, I am convinced that even the priests of happy-go-lucky old Ghanghesha are not required to be pleasant before an hour much closer to noon than this was.
“I have to go to the Palace. You have to appear at the library. If we want to snatch Narayan and the girl right in front of the Greys, we need to start planning right now.”
She was right. But that did not mean I had to accept it gracefully.
Every Company member inside Do Trang’s complex, and Banh himself, gathered over a crude breakfast. Only Tobo and Mother Gota were absent. But they would have no part in any of this. I thought.
Nobody from outside could be included now, because shadows were on the prowl.
“We got a plan all worked out,” One-Eye announced proudly.
“I’m sure it’s one stroke of genius after another,” I replied as I made a groggy effort to collect a bowl of cold rice, a mango and a bowl of tea.
“First thing, Goblin goes up there in his dervish outfit. Then Tobo comes strutting along...”
“Good morning, Adoo,” I murmured distractedly as the gateman admitted me to the library grounds. I was worried about leaving Goblin and One-Eye to operate on their own. My mother instinct at work, they said, both showing nasty teeth as they reminded me that every hen has to trust her chicks on their own sometime. A point well made. Though few hens have to worry about their chicks getting drunk, forgetting what they are doing and wandering off in search of adventure in a city where there is not even one other skinny little black man or ugly little white character.
Adoo nodded his greeting. He never had anything to say.
Inside the library I went to work immediately, though only a couple of copyists had arrived before me. Sometimes Dorabee focused as intently as Sawa did. That helped turn off the worries.
“Dorabee? Dorabee Dey Banerjae!”
I started awake, amazed that I had fallen asleep. I had squatted down on my heels in a corner, in a fashion common amongst Gunni and Nyueng Bao but not common among Vehdna, Shadar or many of the ethnic minorities. We Vehdna favor sitting on the floor or on a cushion, cross-legged. Shadar like low chairs or stools. Not owning at least a crude stool is the truest mark of poverty amongst the Shadar.
I was in character even in my sleep.
“Master Santaraksita?”
“Are you ill?” He sounded concerned.
“Tired. I didn’t sleep well. The skildirsha were hunting last night.” I used the Shadowlander name for the shadows. That did not trouble Santaraksita. It had become part of the language under the Protectorate. “The screams kept waking me up.”
“I understand. I did not enjoy a sound sleep myself, though not for that reason. I was unaware of the horror till I saw its marks this morning.”
“The skildirsha show a proper respect for the priestly class, then.”
The faintest twitch of his lip told me he had not missed the joke. “I am properly appalled, Dorabee. This is evil unlike any we have ever known. The blind misfortune of flood or plague or disaster we must endure stoically. And against the darkness even the gods themselves sometimes contend in vain. But to send out a pack of these shadows to do murder randomly and often, and for no reason even an insane man can comprehend, that is evil of the sort the northerners used to preach.”
Dorabee managed a credible job of looking slack-jawed.
“I’m sorry. I’m exercised. You probably never saw any of the outsiders.” He placed the same stress on “outsiders” that many Taglians used when they meant the Black Company specifically.
“I did. I saw the Liberator himself once when I was little. And I saw the one they called the Lieutenant after she came back from Dejagore. I was pretty far away but I remember it because that was the same day she killed all the priests. And the Protector. I saw her a couple of times.” I was making it up as I went but that was the sort of thing most adult Taglians could claim. The Company had been in and out of the city for years before the final campaign against Longshadow and the fortress Overlook. I rose. “I’ll get back to work now.”
“You do your job well, Dorabee.”
“Thank you, Master Santaraksita. I try.”
“Indeed.” He seemed to be having trouble getting something out. “I have decided that you will be allowed access to any books not in the restricted section.” Restricted books were those not available in multiple copies. Only the most favored scholars were allowed near those. So far, I had been able to determine only a handful of the titles of the books so set aside. “When you have no other obligations.” Part of my day, every day, I spent just waiting to be told about something I needed to do.
>
“Thank you, Master Santaraksita!”
“I’ll expect you to be able to discuss them.”
“Yes, Master Santaraksita.”
“We have set our feet upon an unknown road, Dorabee. An exciting and frightening journey lies ahead.” His prejudices were such that he actually meant what he said. Me reading had twisted his universe all out of shape and now he was going to conspire in this perverted vermiculation.
I took my broom in hand. Exciting and frightening things would be happening elsewhere in my universe. And I hated every second that I was not there to control them.
18
The little dervish in brown wool seemed completely lost inside himself. He was busy talking to himself, paying no attention to the surrounding world. Most likely he was quoting to himself from the sacred texts of the Vehdna, as understood by his peculiar splinter sect. Though tired and irritable, the Greys did not challenge him immediately. They had been taught to honor all holy men, not just those already secure within the Shadar truths. Any devoted stalker after wisdom would find his path leading him to enlightenment eventually.
Tolerance of such seekers was common to all Taglians. The welfare of the soul and the spirit were of grave concern to most. The Gunni, indeed, considered the seeking of enlightenment to be one of the four key stages of an ideally lived life. Once a man successfully raised up and provided for his children, he should put all things material, all ambition and pleasure, aside. He should go into a forest to live as a hermit or become a mendicant seeker or in some other way should live out his final years looking for the truth and purifying his soul. Many of the greatest names in Taglian and southern history are those of kings and rich men who chose just such a path.
But human nature being human nature...
The Greys did not, however, let the dervish follow his quest into Chor Bagan. A sergeant intercepted him. His associates surrounded the holy man. The sergeant said, “Father, you cannot go in that direction. This street has been closed to traffic by order of Minister Swan.” Even dead, Swan had to take the blame for Soulcatcher’s policies.
The dervish apparently failed to notice the Greys till he actually collided with the sergeant. “Huh?”
The younger Greys laughed. Men enjoy seeing their prejudices confirmed. The sergeant repeated his message. He added, “You must turn right or left. We’re rooting out the evils infesting what lies straight ahead.” He possessed a touch of wit.
The dervish looked first right, then left. He shivered, then announced, “All evil is the result of metaphysical error,” in a raspy little voice and started along the street to the right. It was a very strange street. It was almost empty of humanity. In Taglios that was something seldom seen.
A moment later the Shadar sergeant squealed in surprise and pain. He began slapping his side.
“What’s the matter?” another Grey asked.
“Something bit me...” He squealed again, which indicated that he was in a great deal of agony, for Shadar were proud of their ability to endure pain without outcry or even flinching.
Two of the sergeant’s men tried to lift his shirt while a third clung to his arm in an effort to keep him immobile. He shrieked again.
Smoke began to boil out of his side.
The Greys were so startled they backed away. The sergeant went down. He went into convulsions. Smoke continued to boil up. It assumed a form none of the Greys wanted to see.
“Niassi!”
The demon Niassi began to whisper secrets no Shadar wanted to hear.
Grinning to himself, Goblin slipped into Chor Bagan. He disappeared long before anyone wondered if there might not be a connection between the sergeant’s discomfort and the veyedeen dervish.
Greys arrived from all directions. Officers barked and cursed and drove them back to their stations before the denizens of Chor Bagan seized the opportunity to escape. Obviously this was a distraction meant to give their prey the chance to run.
A crowd had begun to gather, too. Among them was a Nyueng Bao boy who picked his moment, cut a purse and fled past the Greys, one of whom recalled him from the evening when one of their own got stoned. Discipline began to collapse.
The Grey officers tried. And managed rather well, considering. Only a few people escaped Chor Bagan. And a half-dozen slipped inside, among them a skinny little old man in the all-enveloping yellow of a leper.
One-Eye was not pleased. He was sure strategy had had nothing to do with it being him who had to assume the yellow. Goblin was up to something wicked.
The six raiders approached the target tenement from front and rear, in loose teams of three. One-Eye was around front. People cleared off fast when they saw the yellow. Lepers were held in absolute terror.
None of the men wanted to carry out a raid in broad daylight. It was not the Company way. But darkness was denied us till Soulcatcher pulled her shadows back off the streets. And the consensus of the Annalists and wizards was that it was less likely that the Daughter of Night could summon Kina’s help during daylight. Daytime also offered a better chance of taking her by surprise.
Each team paused to make sure every man still wore his yarn bracelet before they stormed into the tenement. Each wizard set loose an array of previously prepared low-grade confusion spells that buzzed through the ramshackle structure like a swarm of drunken mosquitoes. The attackers passed inside, stepping over and around frightened, shivering families who, till now, had considered themselves wildly fortunate to have a roof over their heads, even if that meant renting floor space in a hallway. Both teams posted a man who would make sure no one went outside. Another two men met at the foot of the rickety stair. They would prevent movement up or down. Goblin and One-Eye met at the cellar entrance and shared a few complaints about being desperately undermanned, then a few exaggerated courtesies as each offered the other the opportunity to go down into the enemy’s den first.
Goblin finally accepted on the basis of superior youth, quickness and alleged intelligence. He launched a couple of luminary floating stars into the pit, where the darkness was blacker than Kina’s heart.
“Here!” Goblin said. “Ha! We’ve got —”
Something like a flaming tiger burst out of nowhere. It leaped at Goblin. A shadow drifted in from the side. It flicked something long and thin that looped around the little wizard’s neck.
One-Eye’s cane came down on Narayan’s wrist hard enough to crack bone. The living saint of the Stranglers lost his rumel, which flew across the cellar.
One-Eye’s off hand tossed something over Goblin’s head, toward the source of the tiger. A ghostly light floated up like a wisp of luminescent swamp gas. It moved suddenly, enveloping a young woman. She began to slap at herself, trying to wipe it off.
Goblin did something quick, while she was distracted. She collapsed. “Goddamn! Goddamn! It worked. I’m a genius. Admit it. I’m a fucking genius.”
“Who’s a genius? Who came up with the plan?”
“Plan? What plan? Success is in the details, runt. Who came up with the details? Any damned fool could’ve said let’s go catch them two.”
Both men tied limbs as they nattered.
One-Eye said, “Plan the details on this. We got to get out of here with these people. Through all the Greys in the world.”
“Already covered. They’ve got so much trouble they won’t have time to worry about any damned lepers.” He started trying to get a yellow outfit over the head of the Daughter of Night. “Remind me to warn them back at the shop that this one can put together an illusion or two.”
“I know that’s the way its supposed to go.” One-Eye began dragging Narayan Singh into another yellow outfit. In a moment Goblin would trade his brown for yellow, too. Upstairs, the four Company brothers, all of Shadar origin, were turning themselves into Greys. “I’m saying it ain’t got a prayer of working.”
“That because I planned it?”
“Absolutely. You’re beginning to catch on. Welcome to reality.”
&n
bsp; “It goes to shit in our hands, you can blame it on Sleepy, not me. It was her idea.”
“We got to do something about that girl. She thinks too damned much. Will you quit farting around? Them goddamn Greys out there are going to have time to go home for lunch.”
“Don’t hit him so hard. You want him to walk out of here under his own power.”
“You talking to me? What the hell you doing with... get your hand out of there, you old pervert.”
“I’m putting a control amulet over her heart, you dried-up old turd. So she won’t embarrass us before we get her home.”
“Oh, yeah. Sure you are. But why don’t I look on the bright side? At least you’re interested in girls again. She built as nice as her mother?”
“Better.”
“Watch your mouth. The place might be haunted. And I got a suspicion maybe some of those ghosts can talk to each other, no matter what Murgen claims.” One-Eye began to bully the groggy Narayan Singh up the steps.
“I do believe this is going to work,” One-Eye crowed. The combination of Greys and lepers seemed the perfect device for exiting the Thieves’ Garden — particularly now that the real Greys were running around distracted.
“I don’t want to break your heart, old-timer,” Goblin said. “But I think we done been fished.” He was looking over his shoulder.
One-Eye looked back. “Shit!”
A small flying carpet dropped toward them, accompanied by crows making no sounds at all. Soulcatcher. And her very stance suggested mischievous glee.
She threw something.
“Spread out!” Goblin barked. “Don’t let those two get away.” He faced the descending carpet, heart in this throat. If it came to a direct face-off, he was going to get splattered like a stomped egg. He extended a gloved hand, caught the falling black globule, whipped his arm in a circle and launched the missile back into the sky.
