She Is The Darkness tbc-8

by Glen Charles Cook

  Lady pulled the Shadowmaster’s mask away.

  Longshadow arced as though stabbed. His eyes opened. But he could do nothing else. He had been constrained and silenced by a master.

  I asked, “Why don’t we move into his place? There’re supplies in there. Some. And Overlook is sure a whole hell of a lot drier inside than here. I don’t recognize him.” The Shadowmaster’s face was gaunt and oriental but pale as lard. There were just a few teeth in his open mouth, supporting Croaker’s assessment of his diet. He looked like a guy who had suffered repeated bouts with rickets or scurvy or something like that.

  “Neither do I,” Lady said. She sounded badly disappointed. I do believe she really expected him to be one of the Taken, or at least someone she had encountered in the past.

  I asked, “Is this a problem?”

  “I was hoping for a break. Something to make life easier.”

  “You picked the wrong husband. Boss, can I get out there and back before dark?”

  The messenger nodded. “Easy. It’s only four miles. There’s road most of the way and it’s still in good shape.”

  Smoke groaned again. There was a taint of fear there this time. Lady frowned his way. He was a problem she wished she had time to explore.

  “Get a move on,” Croaker told me. “It’ll get dark eventually.”

  Darkness always comes. “I love walking in the rain.” I beckoned the messenger, went back outside. A walk in the rain would not be that awful. I could not get any more wet.

  I told Thai Dei, “The Captain wants us to go collect some prisoners.”

  74

  There are disadvantages to traveling wet. You get a lot of chafing, for example. By the time I caught up with Blade I had blisters on my feet and a raw spot inside my right thigh that burned awfully. And I still had to go back the other way.

  Thai Dei was no happier than I was. None of the guys tagging along were cheerful. They had to take turns carrying One-Eye. The runt’s most ambitious effort yet had been to roll onto his side to puke over the edge of his litter.

  I had had a notion about sneaking on up to peek into Soulcatcher’s ravine. It was a notion that died stillborn about the time we left the road for the forest. A few hundred yards of slip sliding around in the mud and pine needles and, in the shady places, snow, on steepening hillsides, quickly convinced me that this was no day to demonstrate individual initiative.

  One thing I could be sure of. Soulcatcher would be around later.

  I flopped down beside Blade. “Have a good trip down?” I asked Mather. “Sorry we couldn’t reserve better weather for you.”

  Blade chuckled. So did Willow Swan, who observed, “This is about as good as it gets, Cordy. We did save the best for you.”

  “I knew you were my pals.”

  I asked, “Where’s our boy Howler?” None of this country looked the same as it had during the night, from the air.

  Swan pointed uphill, southward, toward where some tall evergreens held on to a thick clot of shadow. “Buried in some snow up there.”

  The guys with me dropped One-Eye’s litter. The little wizard moaned but did not yet have enough ambition to curse or threaten anyone.

  I asked, “What did you guys do to convince Lady she could let you run around loose?”

  Blade chuckled. “She convinced him. By pointing out that anybody who doesn’t stay close and friendly won’t have any protection from the shadows.”

  I grunted. “It’s a realization that’s going around as people begin to examine their consciences.” It was the kind of question that has led many men to select options for which they may be excoriated later, by people with full bellies sitting in front of cozy fires. “Anybody got any grease? Even anything that will pass for grease?”

  My old pal Thai Dei was lugging a glob of lard. In case we had to do some cooking. Nyueng Bao never ceased to amaze. Though their religion had to be an offshoot of the Gunni, somehow they did eat meat and, unlike the Vehdna, that did include pork. The swamp did not allow them to become too picky. Thai Dei must have lugged that lard for years, using it over and over... No matter. Lard was exactly what I needed.

  I dropped my trousers, treated the insides of my thighs to a generous spread. “This’ll keep me going for a while.”

  One-Eye began thrashing on his litter, fighting his blanket and complaining about being wet. His problem was trivial. It was not raining anymore.

  He threw up over the side again, hacking and gagging, then settled down to sleep.

  “That looks pretty raw already,” Swan told me.

  “Kiss it better,” Mather suggested.

  “Some reunion. Our old pal Cordy got above himself since he’s been hobnobbing with the Woman—”

  I said, “Let’s go do our wizard mining.”

  Blade said, “I really don’t want to do this.”

  “No shit. Me neither. Tell you what. Why don’t we let Swan and Mather get him? We’ll stay right here so somebody can get word back to camp in case anything goes wrong.”

  Mather said, “This guy is definitely starting to sound like an officer. You get a couple field promotions during the campaign?”

  “I’m a god.” I let Thai Dei help me up. He had not sprawled on the ground. His muscles were still loose. He started heading the direction Swan had indicated earlier.

  Blade asked, “What about your pet?” He chucked a pinecone at One-Eye. One-Eye barely twitched.

  “He’s got liabilities enough.” Let sleeping sorcerers lie.

  One-Eye sat up. He slurred, “I heard that, Kid.” Then he collapsed again.

  I said, “I think I’ll leave him here and take the other one back on the stretcher.” An idea which proved popular immediately. Not even One-Eye came out against it. He was busy snoring again.

  There was no evidence that Howler had moved an inch since his fall. There was just the hole where he had gone into the snow and at its bottom, about eight feet deep, a bundle of dark rags. A light dust of loose snow had blown in on top of him.

  “Hey! Lookit here!” a soldier called from maybe thirty feet away, up the slope past Howler.

  “What you got?” I asked. I was not walking ten feet if I did not have to.

  “Looks like a dead wolf.”

  I worked my way up there. “Sumbitch, guys! He found a dead wolf.” I knelt. “Looks like it got caught by a shadow.” Evidence on the slope suggested that it had been sneaking toward Howler when bad luck got in its way. Then it had tried to run. It had not been alone, of course, but the tracks indicated a very small pack.

  “I didn’t know they had wolves down here,” somebody said.

  “Now you do.” The death of the wolf did not seem critical.

  Except to tell us that a shadow had been around here last night and might still be hiding somewhere nearby. “Be careful if you’re anywhere that’s dark.”

  I went back down to check Howler. He had not moved. Of course.

  “He alive?” Swan asked.

  Blade suggested, “Get a long stick and poke him.”

  I said, “Let’s dig him out.”

  “That smart?”

  “He won’t do anything till we get him out of the hole.” I would not have in his position. Always let some other fool do the work if he insists.

  The snow was old snow. Its surface had melted and refrozen numerous times. It was hard and heavy. Luckily, Howler was not really eight feet under. He had passed through eight feet of snow but that snow lay on a steep hillside and was only about four feet thick going in at the most direct angle.

  I had a notion. “Don’t scatter that stuff too far. We might want to use some.”

  “There ain’t exactly a shortage,” Swan grumbled.

  Thai Dei, I noted, never offered to help. He stood back with his hand on his sword, alert, one eye cocked toward One-Eye. Perhaps his impulses were evil.

  His vigilance proved unnecessary. As the more daring men brushed snow off Howler one of them announced, “He’s froze sol
id.”

  A huge sigh of relief ripped through the crowd.

  “Excellent!” I observed. “Here’s what we’ll do, then.”

  An hour later we had the little wizard tied to a carrying pole, packed inside a layer of snow six inches thick. “Just to keep him from spoiling on the way,” I told the guys, some of whom had had to give up ragged bits of clothing to help keep the snow around Howler. They all whined and groaned and groused and wanted to know why we could not just pack him in with the other one.

  They were going to break One-Eye’s heart. They did not love him anymore.

  75

  “Use this salve,” Croaker told me. “And try to keep it as clean and dry as you can.”

  “I was walking bowlegged before we got back.” I scowled at One-Eye, who was seated on the floor near Croaker’s fire, not saying a word. He looked like he wished we would let him fall asleep for a year, so the pain would go away. He was still in such bad shape that he did not have energy enough to complain.

  Mother Gota was more resilient. Her youth, I suppose. She and Uncle Doj had been working on the family dugout when Thai Dei and I returned from our adventure. Nobody, including Uncle Doj, had anything to say. I ignored his long absence. I had no time for Nyueng Bao mystery games. I left them stirring the mud in an effort to get a shelter up before night fell again.

  Lady had Howler on the door table, examining him. She concluded, “He should recover.”

  I asked, “You get issued nine lives when you get Taken? That little shit is starting to look stubborner than the Limper was.” We killed that asshole half a dozen times. We thought. And he just kept coming back.

  Lady said, “No. But anybody who has the drive to become a wizard of his level is the sort who wastes no opportunity to further prepare for any imaginable possibility.”

  I asked the Old Man, “What’s it look like out there?” There had been dramatic changes in the few hours I was away. Besides the passage of the rain. Most of the survivors had been collected either in the vicinity of the headquarters group or directly below the Shadowgate. A lot of manhours had gone into locating every surviving piece of workable bamboo. Lady’s reloading factory was hard at work, too, but the effort there was little more than symbolic of the leadership’s commitment to continue the struggle.

  “Looks better than I thought it would. Lady got Longshadow stabilized. That should mean we’re back to the slow leakage we had before he got hurt. If he mends all right we’ll have him shut it down in a couple of days.”

  “We going to be able to control him?”

  “Oh yeah. You’ve seen statues of dead generals that had more freedom of action than she’s left him.”

  Lady looked up from her work. She wore the tiniest of smiles but it betrayed the confident amusement of an old, old evil. She is the darkness. Smoke was for sure right about that.

  I said, “Wouldn’t we be better off if we moved into Overlook?”

  “Maybe. And we might do that. Once we get straightened out and know where everybody is. And figure out where, for right now, their loyalties lie.”

  “Speaking of which. Uncle Doj is back. He’s out there helping my mother-in-law and acting like he was never gone.”

  “I heard.”

  “I’m wondering how he managed to survive. Especially last night.”

  Lady looked at me like I had sparked a surprise thought. She said, “Watch Howler. Call me if he moves. I’ll be right outside.” She hurried out the doorway.

  I looked at Croaker. He shrugged. “I don’t ask anymore.”

  “She looks pretty ragged.”

  “Don’t we all? But maybe we’ll get to rest up now. If we get the Shadowgate under control there won’t be anybody to aggravate us for a long time. If ever.”

  Mogaba was out there. But he had no patron anymore. That meant that nobody could cover his ass magically. He would have to back off. And the Prahbrindrah Drah might not live long enough to become a problem. He had to evade both shadows and Goblin to reach friendly territory. And even so-called-friendly territory would not be very friendly if he could not pull together a band big enough to look out for itself. Peasants are notoriously cruel to fleeing soldiers when they catch them at a disadvantage. Possibly that is because soldiers are so cruel to peasants when the advantage lies in their hands, though many from the hyperrefined warrior classes have insisted it springs from the beastly nature of the peasantry.

  “Can you get over to the Shadowgate?”

  “Me? Now?”

  “You. Now. Before dark. Carrying the standard. To test my theory about what it is. And to help cover the troops there if I’m right.”

  “I can try. But I’m in pretty lousy shape.”

  “You could ride.”

  That was asking for another set of galled spots entirely but he was right.

  With a slightly nasty smile he observed, “You could have your understudy do it for you if you had one.”

  So he knew Sleepy was missing. I needed to check on the kid first chance I got.

  Lady pushed back inside. She was not a big woman but she had a big presence. I was always surprised when I saw her after a separation because I always remembered her about a foot taller. She told me, “Your friend Doj isn’t just a priest from some obscure cult. He’s a sorcerer. Very minor. Less than One-Eye in ability. But he’s carrying something—an amulet, an artifact, what exactly I couldn’t determine—that protects him from shadows.”

  Croaker looked at me like I ought to have known all about that years ago. “I don’t know, boss. This’s the first I’ve heard about it.” Though I had always suspected that Uncle Doj might be able to do something besides crochet with a sword. In fact, his skills with a blade always did seem almost magically augmented. How could a guy pull off something like that attack on the Deceivers at Charandaprash without getting swamped by sheer weight of numbers?

  I do not know why but I told Lady, “My wife isn’t dead. The Deceivers never touched her when they raided our apartment. Thai Dei and Doj and some cousins took her away, then told me she was dead. They also convinced her that I was dead while they were taking her back to the swamp. They’ve got her stashed in a temple there now, where she won’t embarrass them by being pregnant. Doj and Gota don’t want us two together. They only ever put up with it at all because Gota’s parents insisted.” Sarie, her family and the Nyueng Bao were not something I had discussed with Lady before. I never talked with her much about anything except stuff that needed to go into the Annals or the stuff that she had written there that needed clarification.

  She checked Howler again while she listened to my chatter. She suggested, “Tell me all about this. I’ve always had a feeling that there was something going on.”

  Yeah? Right. Her and everybody else smart enough not to eat dirt.

  Croaker went to the doorway and stuck his head out. He popped back inside. “Hey. Why didn’t you say it’d stopped raining? Maybe I can get these assholes to move a little faster now.” Out he went. I felt for him. He looked even more worn out than I felt.

  I said, “I did tell him.”

  “He doesn’t always listen. Talk to me about the Nyueng Bao.”

  I talked. Lady listened. She asked sharp questions. I returned the favor at times, when we touched on anything I thought I wanted to know.

  She said, “I want to know about your dreams, too.”

  “They’re different than yours. I think.”

  “I know. How they’re different might mean a lot.”

  We talked a long time. But not long enough for me to get out of trekking over to the Shadowgate with the goddamn standard.

  76

  Horses were in short supply. Most that had not gotten eaten had been killed by shadows the previous night. And were getting eaten now. I ended up borrowing Lady’s mount. Croaker never said a word. He did not have to. Down the road somewhere I was going to pay.

  Thai Dei got up behind me. Lady’s stallion, which was used to lugging only her hund
red and a few pounds, plus armor occasionally, glared over his shoulder. I told the beast, “It’s only for a little ways. I promise.”

  The Old Division and some of Lady’s troops had moved into camp below the Shadowgate. Tensions were obvious as we rode in. A lot of faces were less than friendly. These were men who had stayed with the Company mainly because their chances of survival were better with us than away from us. Twilight was not far off, though, so no one was inclined to belligerence.

  I decided not to tell anybody why I had brought the standard.

  Word spread fast. Company brothers came out to see if there was anything special in the wind. I ran into people I had not seen for months. Some, even, whom I had not seen since we had left Taglios.

  Sindawe and Isi appeared. They thought something big had to be up since I had come out of my hole. I could see how they might have gotten that odd notion. My job had kept me close to Smoke for a long time.

  Ochiba materialized. He and the other two Nar were the senior officers outside the Shadowgate. All the most senior Taglians had deserted. They had respected their obligations to their prince.

  I suspected they would regret choosing to maintain their honor. If they had not done so already, last night.

  Sindawe caught the stallion’s reins. Thai Dei and I dismounted. Everybody waited for me to say something. I just shrugged. I pulled my pants away from my burning thigh. Riding had been no improvement. Just as I had predicted. “Don’t ask me why I’m here. The Old Man said to come. So I came. What he’s up to is his secret.”

  “So what else is new?” Big Bucket asked. “He ever does say what’s what, nobody will believe him.”

  I glanced around. The ground there was harder than it was back across the way. It was also dryer. Most of the shelters, therefore, were aboveground. The camp gave poverty and squalor a bad name. I saw the ensigns and pennons of battalions that had, a year ago, been renowned for their spit and polish. I asked, “Is morale really this bad?”