by Glen Cook
The boy pointed, eager to be the first to deliver bad news.
Fresh smoke rose from Dejagore. From, near as I could tell, the north barbican. It looked like there was fighting there.
A mauve flash told me One-Eye or Goblin was involved.
Mogaba must be trying to recover the barbican.
I spied flickers around the west gate, too.
“Damned Mogaba. Thanks, guys. Nothing we can do about it, though.” I hoped One-Eye and Goblin carved Mogaba a new poop chute. “Get on back to camp, will you? There’s stuff that’s got to get done.”
* * *
Lady was gone. Blade was in charge and just sitting around collecting refugees from the city, keeping them from reporting back with news about Shadowspinner. He admitted that. “That’s what she wants done.” He seemed indifferent to Sahra, unlike every other man in camp.
“She’s lucky she’s not here,” I grumbled. “I’d turn her over my knee.”
Since there was nothing else going on I sat around with him and Swan and Mather until it started to get dark. Somebody found a puppy for To Tan to play with. When it got late I said, “We’d better get back to our people. They’ll be getting nervous.”
“No can do, buddy,” Mather told me.
Blade agreed. “She said no exceptions.”
The warmth went out of the air. I gave each one what I thought of as the Nyueng Bao look. Swan and Mather averted their eyes. Blade took it but with a twitch.
Sahra seemed untroubled. I suppose, after Dejagore, it was hard to imagine a turn for the worse. She even smiled.
“I assume the prison pen is where I left it?” I remembered that part of my previous visit perfectly.
“We will keep you more comfortably,” Blade promised.
Mather volunteered, “I’ll show you where to bunk.”
We were far enough away not to overhear, Swan thought. He told Blade, “You look at her good? That’s one spooky woman.”
I glanced at Sahra. I assumed she heard, too, but her expression told me nothing.
If Blade answered Swan he spoke more softly.
I continued to study Sahra, wondering what Swan had seen.
81
The tent was decent. It must have belonged to a middle-grade Shadowlander officer. We were not unhonored guests. And the tent came with a man assigned to make us comfortable and bring us our supper. Blade’s troops were foraging successfully, it seemed. I ate better than I had for a long time.
“What I want more than anything in the world,” I told our man, whose name I never learned, “is a bath.” Sahra hit him with a smile guaranteed to melt armor plate. She was enthusiastic about that idea. “I’m so filthy my fleas have lice,” I said.
Must have been a real ration of guilt going around at high levels. An hour later several soldiers showed up humping a looted stone horse trough. With them came guys lugging buckets of hot water. I told Sahra, “We must of died and come back as princes.”
Our tent was big enough to contain the trough and water with room left over.
Swan turned up. “What do you think of that, eh?”
“If I didn’t have friends over there fighting and dying I’d ask for a life sentence.”
“Take it easy, Murgen. It’ll all work out.”
“I know that, Swan. I know that. But some of us aren’t going to be happy how it does.”
“Yeah, well. Good night.”
* * *
It was. Beginning with the bath Sahra made it clear her definition of our relationship was exactly what others feared or suspected. She astounded me with her ability to communicate without spoken words, amazed me that in the midst of such unrelenting hell a flower of such beauty could bloom and defy the night.
* * *
I slept longer and better than I had for months. Maybe some part of me just resigned and let go.
Water in the face wakened me.
“What?” I cracked an eyelid. And popped upright. Sahra sat up as I did. “To Tan? What’re you doing, kiddo?” The little guy was leaning over the edge of the horse trough, spanking the water. He looked at me and grinned, said something in Nyueng Bao baby talk that sounded like “Dada.”
“What’s going on?”
Sahra shrugged. To Tan said “Dada” again and headed out of the tent.
Things were happening outside. I grabbed my clothes, climbed in, stuck my head outside. “Holy shit! Where the freak did you guys come from?” Thai Dei and Uncle Doj were seated outside. Their swords lay across their laps. Sheathed, thankfully. Gangs of Taglians were coming by to check them out. I guessed they had not been there long nor had they asked permission to enter camp and assume their posts.
Swan and Mather appeared.
Uncle Doj told me, “Only one group made it out again last night. The black men attacked. Many men were injured. Numerous rafts were damaged. But their soldiers did not want to fight and many asked to join Bonharj.”
“Who the hell are these guys?” Swan demanded. “How did they get here?”
“The rest of the family. I expect they sneaked. They’re good at that. Obviously, your perimeter ain’t what it should be.”
Blade shouted something from the distance. “Crap,” Swan grumbled. “Now what?” He jogged away.
Mather considered Thai Dei and Uncle Doj briefly, shrugged, followed Swan. Uncle Doj said something to Sahra. She nodded. I guess he wanted to know if she was all right.
To Tan climbed around on his father.
Doj told me, “You did well, and more than you were obliged, Standardbearer. Our people are safely away and these men know nothing about them.”
“Yeah? Good. What about mine?”
“They would not come out. The wizards want to pursue their vendetta with Mogaba. They might come tonight.”
82
They did not come that night. Nor did they come the next though they sent a lot of Taglians and Jaicuri out in place of the Company.
Two mornings later Mather finally let me in on what the excitement had been about when Blade interrupted our discussion over Uncle Doj and Thai Dei. He told me, “Croaker will be here in an hour or two, Murgen. You might put in a good word.”
“What?”
It was not an hour and it was not just the Old Man. Croaker was travelling with the Prahbrindrah Drah himself. He looked like he had seen a lot of hard road. I moved toward him in fits and starts, unsure where we stood after all this time.
He jumped down, said, “It is me. I’m real.”
“But I saw you die.”
“No. You saw me get hit. I was still breathing when you cut out.”
“Yeah? The shape you was in, there wasn’t no way…”
“Shouldn’t have been, either. It’s a long story. We can chew on it over a few beers sometime.” He waved. A soldier trotted up. Croaker grabbed his spear, which was almost long enough to be a pike, shoved it at me. “Here. You left this when you ran off to play Widowmaker.”
I did not believe it. Not at first. It was the lance for the standard.
“You really need to hug it?”
“It’s really it! I was almost sure it was lost.” Despite what I had told Mogaba. “You got no idea how guilty I felt. Although I did think I saw it that one time.… It’s really you?” I looked at him closely. Having seen what illusions One-Eye and Goblin could conjure I was not quite ready to accept the evidence of my own eyes.
“It’s me. Really. Alive and in a mood to kick some ass. But that’s not what I’ve got on my mind right now. Where’s Lady?”
Poor boy. Blade gave him the bad news. His paramour had left more than a week ago, headed north. They missed each other on the road.
Swan and Mather were impressed by the presence of the Prince, their supposed boss.
Why was he out running around, anyway?
I noticed Croaker had a hard stare for Sindhu, who had stayed behind when Lady left.
The Old Man snapped, “Quit making love to that damned thing, Murgen. I need to
catch up. I’m way out of touch. Will somebody take this damned butt-cruncher?”
A soldier grabbed his mount’s reins.
“Let’s get out of the sun.”
“I want to hear your story,” I said. “While it’s fresh.”
“Going to put it into the Annals? You been keeping them up?”
“I tried. Only I had to leave them in the city.” I did not like that, either. One-Eye could promise the moon about taking care of them but would he deliver?
“I’ll look forward to reading the Book of Murgen. If it’s any good you’ve got the job for life.”
Swan said something about Lady planning to write a book of her own when she got time. Croaker flung a stone at a crow. It was the first of those birds I had spotted since the albino in the night. Maybe he brought it with him. I sketched some of what had been happening in Dejagore.
“Guess it hasn’t been fun for anybody. Seems Mogaba is the main problem. Better get right after him. How many people are still over there?”
“My guess is him and the Nar have a thousand to fifteen hundred men. I don’t know how many people I have. Some come out every night but since I got elected prisoner here I can’t keep track. Goblin and One-Eye and most of the Company are still over there.” I hoped Uncle Doj and Thai Dei were using this distraction to get To Tan and Sahra and themselves on the road.
“Why would they stay?”
“They don’t want to leave. They say they want to wait till Lady gets all her powers back. They say something is out here waiting for them.”
“Powers back?”
“It’s happening,” Blade said.
“Hunh. So what are they afraid of, Murgen?”
“Shapeshifter’s apprentice. That bitch from Juniper. She almost got One-Eye once already.…” How come I believed the little rat now but had not when he had told me?
I had a momentary vision of One-Eye puffing through the night with fanged death closing in. It was as solid as actual memory.
“I remember her. She was a real piece of work. Marron Shed should have taken care of her when he had the chance.”
“Evidently she wants to get even with us for doing Shifter. She may be locked into the forvalaka shape, too. Which would really piss anybody off, I guess. But if you was to ask my personal opinion I think she’s only an excuse. They want to stay where they are because otherwise they might have to leave something behind.”
“Like what?”
I shrugged. “They’re Goblin and One-Eye. They’ve had months to pilfer and profiteer.”
“Tell me about Mogaba.”
Now we got down to the grim stuff.
Before the discussion ended even nasty Sindhu condemned the Nar.
“I’ll put an end to that. You want to take a message to Mogaba?”
I looked over my shoulder. He could not be asking the guy behind me. There was nobody there. “You shitting me? Not unless it’s an order. And maybe not then. Mogaba wants my head. Not to mention my heart and liver for breakfast. Crazy as he is right now he might go after me with you standing right behind me.”
“I’ll get somebody else.”
“Good idea.”
“I’ll go,” Swan volunteered. Then him and Mather got into an argument about that. Evidently Swan had something to prove to himself and Cordy did not believe he needed to bother.
83
My status in camp changed sharply. Suddenly I never was a prisoner, never had been unfree to do whatever served the common good.
Only problem was, my tent was cold. All I had left of Sahra and the Nyueng Bao was the jade amulet Sahra had taken from Hong Tray before we had carried the children out of the killing place.
“You done yet?” Croaker demanded, finding me seated in front of my tent, working on the standard.
I showed him what I was doing. “Good enough?”
“Perfect. You ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever get.” I touched the jade amulet.
“She pretty special?”
“Very special.”
“I want to hear all about her people.”
“Someday.”
We walked through the hills and down to the shore. A sizable boat was out on the lake already. Blade’s soldiers had transported it overland after having failed to work it along the canal from the nearest river to the lake. Croaker and I took up position on a prominent hummock. I displayed the standard. They would be able to see that from the city even if they did not recognize me and the Old Man.
Mogaba wanted to know where the standard was? He could see for himself, now.
While the boat crossed over and returned Croaker and I speculated as to what made both Mogaba and Lady want to be in charge so badly.
“Looks like Swan is getting results. Can you see what’s going on?”
“Looks like somebody black getting into the boat.”
That somebody turned out to be Sindawe. I told the Old Man, “This guy was always as right with us as having Mogaba for a boss would allow. Ochiba and Isi and some of the others weren’t too bad, either. But they wouldn’t disobey orders.”
Sindawe stepped ashore. Croaker saluted him. He responded uncertainly, looked to me for a clue. I shrugged. He was on his own. I had no idea where this was headed.
Sindawe made sure he was face to face with the real Captain. Once he was satisfied, he suggested, “Let us step out of sight and talk.”
The Old Man made a small gesture that told me I should let them talk in complete privacy. They walked around behind the hummock and sat on a rock. They talked for a long time, voices never rising. Sindawe finally rose and walked back to the boat like a man borne down by an incredibly heavy burden.
“What’s the story?” I asked Croaker. “He looks like he suddenly added twenty years on top of the wear and tear of the siege.”
“Years of the heart, Murgen. Feeling morally compelled to betray somebody who has been your best friend since childhood will do that to you.”
“What?”
He would say nothing more. “We’re going over there. I’m going to meet Mogaba nose to nose.”
I thought of a pile of arguments against. I did not bother. He would not listen. “Not me.” I shuddered. My spine was shivering to that chill they say happens when somebody walks over your grave.
Croaker looked at me hard. I drove the butt of the standard into the earth, vigorously, meaning, “Here I stand.” He grunted, turned and went down to the boat. The creature Sindhu snaked out of nowhere and joined the party. I wondered how much of Sindawe’s and Croaker’s conversation he had overheard. Not a word, probably. The Old Man would have used the Jewel Cities dialect.
Once the boat was well out onto the water I sat down beside the standard, clung to the pole and tried to figure out what made it impossible for me to go back over there.
84
I had suffered no big seizures for a while. I was not on guard anymore. This one began insidiously, like just losing focus and drifting into a lazy daydream. I stared at Dejagore but no longer really saw it, thought of the women who had entered my life and the ancient one who had left it. Already I missed Sahra and so-serious To Tan.
A white crow landed on the crossbar of the standard, cawed down at me. I paid no attention.
* * *
I stood at the edge of a shimmering wheatfield. A twisted, broken black stump rose thirty yards from me, in the field’s center. Bickering crows surrounded it. The fairy towers of Overlook gleamed in the distance, days’ walk away. I recognized them for what they were without understanding how I could know.
Suddenly the crows rose up and wheeled around, flew that direction in an uncrowlike flock. One white crow stayed behind, circling.
The stump shimmered darkly. A glamor faded away.
A woman stood there. She looked very much like Lady but was even more beautiful. She seemed to look right through me. Or at and into me. She smiled wickedly, playfully, seductively, perhaps insanely. In a moment the albino bird settled o
nto her shoulder.
“You are impossible.”
Her smile shattered into shards of laughter.
Unless I was completely, inescapably mad there was only one person this could be. And she died long before I ever joined the Company.
Soulcatcher.
Croaker was there when she went down.
Soulcatcher.
That would explain a lot. That would illuminate a hundred mysteries. But how could that be?
A huge black beast that looked something like an ebony tiger padded past me, from behind, went and settled on its haunches near the woman. There was nothing servile in its manner.
I was frightened. If Soulcatcher was alive and in this end of the world and inclined to meddle she could become the greatest terror around. She was more powerful than Longshadow, Howler or Lady. But, unless she had changed since the old days, she preferred to use her talents in small ways, for spite or her own amusement.
She winked at me. Then she spun around and just seemed to disappear, leaving more laughter rippling in the air behind her. Her laughter became the mirth of the white crow.
The forvalaka became bored with the show, went off into the distance.
And I faded.
85
A crow cawed overhead.
A hand shook my shoulder, not gently. “Are you all right, sir? Is there a problem?”
“What?” I was seated on a stone step, clinging to the edge of a massive wooden door. An albino crow paced back and forth on the door’s top edge. The man who held my shoulder tried to shoo the bird with his free hand and some pithy curses. He was huge and hairy.
It was the middle of the night. What light there was came from a lantern the man had set upon the cobblestones. It set eyes glowing across the street, at a low level. For an instant I thought I saw something huge and catlike slipping past.
The man was one of the Shadar patrolmen the Liberator had employed to roam the streets after dark, maintaining order and keeping a watch for outsiders of dubious provenance.
Laughter came from the darkness across the way. The patrolman was not doing a good job. I was supposed to be one of the good guys here. She was one of the dubious strangers.
