by Glen Cook
“What fell powers do these killers from the north command?” the child asked. “Are Widowmaker and Lifetaker more than created images? Can they be true demigods walking the earth in the guise of mortals, powerful enough to spin cobwebs of illusion before my mother’s eyes?”
You could see the doubts gnawing at both of them. If those red and yellow rumel men out there could be taken so easily and killed without alerting their protectress, what could save a living saint or even a Deceiver messiah?
“If that is the case,” Singh said, “we had better hope this place is as impregnable as that madman Longshadow wants to believe. We had better hope that he can exterminate all the Taglians already inside.”
“I do not think he’s finished, Narayan. Not yet.” But she did not explain what she meant.
50
You who come after me, and who read these Annals once I am gone, will have difficulty believing this but there are times when I do dumb things. Like the day I decided to stroll over to Lady’s forward command post to see the fighting with my own eyes instead of watching it from the comfort and safety of the ghostworld or my dreams.
I suspected I had pulled a stupid before I ever got there. I kept stumbling over corpses, most of them just lumps in the snow, slowly emerging. There would be another feast for crows, another celebration of corruption, after the weather turned.
And it was turning.
It was raining, steadily though not heavily. The rain was melting the snow. In places a mist almost as thick as fog hung in the air. I could not see a hundred feet. This was a new experience for me, walking in the rain on thick snow, through a fog.
Actually, it was a journey through silent beauty.
I could not appreciate that because I was so miserable.
Thai Dei was more miserable. The delta was warm even during the winter.
Sleepy was up there enjoying the earlier spring overwhelming Taglios and its environs. I hated and envied the kid now. I should have gone myself.
He had delivered my message to Banh Do Trang. I was a fly on the wall when it happened. The old man took the letter calmly, without reaction or comment—except that he did ask Sleepy to wait in case there was a reply. My message began its journey to the temple of Ghanghesha. Banh Do Trang carried the message himself.
Meantime, I was so far away I was in another world. Freezing my ass off.
“Why are we here?” I asked suddenly. I am not sure why. It seemed like a good question at the time.
Thai Dei took it literally. The man could not help himself. He had no imagination. He shrugged. And he kept on being as alert as was humanly possible while trying to keep cold water from running down the back of his neck.
I have never seen anyone as capable of carving his life into exclusive slices. And of giving each slice all the attention it deserved.
He was alert because dumb boy me had decided to take a shortcut through the ruins of Kiaulune. The Prahbrindrah Drah had rooted out all the enemy, had he not?
Maybe. But if that was true who were the snipers we had encountered twice already, slingers who operated from the remains of what had been tenements before the earthquake? My right thigh hurt where a lucky ricochet had gotten me. I was not hot for revenge, just for getting out of there.
I said, “I don’t mean why are we here freezing our butts off. I mean why are we here in this end of the world freezing our nuts off while lunatics without sense enough to surrender sling rocks at us and Croaker and Lady figure it’s a cinch to impregnate an impregnable fortress.”
Thai Dei indulged himself. “Sometimes you don’t have any idea what you’re going on about, do you?” He regained his self-control and returned to character. “You follow the path of honor, Murgen. You strive to pay the debt of Sahra. As do we all. My mother and I follow you because your debt is our debt.
You lying dicklicker. “Sure. Thanks. And we’ll collect, won’t we? But this weather just drains the fire out of me. How about you?” Like most young men dream of spending their summers in Kiaulune.
“The fog is disheartening,” he admitted.
An arrow wobbled between us, sped by someone who did not know what he was doing at targets he could not see well. “These are some pretty stubborn little bastards,” I said. “Mogaba must have them convinced that we’re going to eat them alive.”
“Perhaps they have seen no evidence otherwise.”
I gleaned the arrow. “You all of a sudden gonna turn talkative and philosophical on me?”
Thai Dei shrugged. He had become more loquacious lately. It was as though he did not want me to forget that he was closer than my shadow.
We entered an area that had been a square before the earthquake. The fog made it impossible to discern any landmarks. “Shit!” was my philosophical take on the situation.
“There.” Thai Dei indicated a glow to our left.
I made out noises that sounded like muted curses in Taglian. Like soldiers grumbling over a game of tonk, a pastime the southerners had adopted enthusiastically.
I headed that way, slush splashing. The stuff was ankle deep now, except where it was deeper, like the place where I put my foot down and it just kept going till I was in up to my knee.
The stumble was a piece of good luck. It started me cursing in Taglian. Some nearby soldiers came to help. They had been about to ambush us, having heard us stumbling around earlier. They recognized me. I did not know them.
Turned out they belonged to the bunch playing cards. They had lost their officer and their sergeant had been slain and they had no idea what to do with themselves so they were just trying to stay out of the way and keep warm. One of our failures as military educators. We have not encouraged innovative thinking at the squad level. Or at any other, for that matter.
“I can’t tell you guys what to do because I don’t know your situation. Try to go up the chain of command, I guess. Find your company commander.”
They explained that their whole company had been sent in to clear the area of snipers. In the fog those snipers had no trouble telling who their enemies were. Everybody who was not them, a luxury the Taglians did not enjoy. The rest of the company was out there in the fog somewhere.
“The fire get started on purpose?”
“No, sir. Some guys got excited and used their bamboo. Then we just kind of kept it going.”
“Why didn’t you burn the buildings and roast the snipers out?”
“Orders. These here buildings are all in good shape. The Prince wanted to set up a headquarters here.”
“I see.” Maybe more than the Taglian realized.
The Prahbrindrah Drah already had a headquarters. It was in a better neighborhood boasting much better living conditions.
“Nobody told me,” I said. “I’ll tell you this. Don’t get yourselves killed trying to save a pile of rocks and timber. If the little shits snipe at you, burn them out.” Anywhere in the Annals that city fighting is mentioned one lesson stands out. That one lesson was bitterly reinforced by my own experience in Dejagore. If you worry even a little about preserving property, the guys on the other side will eat you up. When you are in a fight you do not worry about anything but getting your enemy before he gets you.
Missiles kept coming out of the fog. They did no damage but did advise us that the snipers had a good idea where we were.
Given my encouragement the Prince’s troops went off to commit wholesale arson. I chuckled. “I’m proud of me, I am, I am.”
“What must be done must be done,” Thai Dei said, misunderstanding.
There was no need to tell him that I had just scuttled some plan of the Prahbrindrah Drah’s. “You’ll whistle a different tune if we end up freezing our butts off because these assholes waste the whole damned city.” The remains of Kiaulune were a rich source of firewood, not to mention stone for reinforcing earthworks. Fires began to spread. I felt giddy. Is this what power does to you?
I stayed around, directing those men and other leaderless types who accumul
ated. The snipers were stubborn about not getting caught. Fires became more numerous.
The weather turned colder as evening arrived. Rain came. It turned to sleet and freezing rain that coated everything with crystal. The fog thinned. As visibility improved I discovered that the fires were more widespread than I had thought. Out of control and spreading, they soon yielded enough heat to turn the sleet back to rain.
Smoke began to replace the fog. I told Thai Dei, “We’re going to have to start hauling firewood all the way from the mountains.” I sent word out not to start any more fires. It did not do much good.
The soldiers were so jumpy they kept plinking at each other with the bamboo poles.
Mogaba would get a good laugh out of this one.
Full night arrived. I had been having too much fun. I did not want to be down in Kiaulune after nightfall. The dancing firelight only made me more nervous. What a time for the Shadowmaster to loose his pets.
“Did you see that?” I demanded.
“What?” Thai Dei sounded righteously baffled.
“Can’t swear to it. My eyes aren’t what they used to be. But.…” But I did not need to tell Thai Dei I thought I had seen Uncle Doj flickering through the tricky light as though he was a shadow himself. A troll-like figure had been right behind him. Mother Gota.
Interesting. Very interesting.
“Let’s go for a walk.” I headed the direction my in-laws were going. Thai Dei followed. Of course. “Thai Dei. What do you really know about Uncle Doj? What moves him? Where is he going?”
Thai Dei responded with one of his all-purpose, neutral grunts.
“Talk to me, dammit! I’m family.”
“You are Black Company.”
“Damned straight. So what?”
Another grunt.
“I admit I ain’t brown enough, short enough, skinny enough, ugly enough or dumb enough to be a genuine swamp-loving master race Nyueng Bao De Duang, but I did just fine as Sarie’s husband.” I overcame the impulse to throw him up against a handy ruin and slap the pigshit out of him till he explained what they thought they were doing, stealing my wife and pretending she was dead.
In recent days I had found I could not help rubbing Thai Dei’s nose in Nyueng Bao racism.
“He is a priest,” Thai Dei confessed, after considerable reflection.
“Oh! You surprised me there, brother. Pretend that I’m not stupid. Not jengal.” Which is a Nyueng Bao word meaning something like “congenitally deformed, brain-defective foreigner.”
“He is a repository of old things, brother. Of old thoughts and old ways. We were a different people from a different land, once upon a time. Today we live where and how we must but among us are those who preserve ancient skills and customs and knowledge. As Annalist of the Black Company you should be able to understand that mission.”
Maybe.
Accumulated precipitation had filled the streets with slush. It was only inches deep but it recalled the water-filled streets of another city in another time. This is a nightmare, I told myself. This is a torment from Kina, maybe. The smell is here but this is not Dejagore. Here we will not eat rats and pigeons and crows. Here no one will indulge in dark rituals requiring human sacrifice.
I studied Thai Dei. He, too, seemed to be remembering when. I said, “At least it was warmer than this.”
“I remember that, brother. I remember everything.” Meaning he recalled why so many men of such a proud race had attached themselves to the Black Company in almost subservient positions.
“I want you to remember those days always, Thai Dei. We were trapped in hell but we survived it. I learned there. Hell no longer has any surprises for me, nor any secrets from me.” A bit of veiled criticism and an exposure of the bedrock philosophy that continues to get me through.
I have been to hell. I have done my time. This dark goddess Kina could not throw anything at me worse than the things I had seen already with my own eyes.
I scurried around but never caught another glimpse of Uncle Doj. If that was him that I saw. Thai Dei and I stayed in the streets, spreading encouragement while trying to forget our holiday in hell.
The little shit would not give up another word about Uncle Doj.
51
Croaker was not pleased. “I don’t want you pulling a stunt like that again, Murgen. There was no reason for you to put yourself at risk like that.”
“I found out the Prince is up to something.”
“Great big old hairy-assed deal. We knew that. Had to be.”
“I saw Uncle Doj sneaking around down there, too.”
“So?”
“You’re always worried about my in-laws.”
“Not as much anymore.”
His tone alerted me that, once again, he knew something he was not going to share. Or he had an angle he meant to keep completely secret. “What happened?”
“We reached a milestone. And no one noticed. Which puts us at a hell of an advantage.”
“And you’re not going to tell me?”
“Not a word. A little birdie might hear.”
“Why were you visiting the bird lady?” I made a habit of asking—like he used to ask me about Uncle Doj. He was not pleased.
He offered no answer. “You have a job to do. Two jobs, in fact. Stick to those. If I lose you I’ve got nothing left but One-Eye.” He eyed me hard.
“Wouldn’t that be awful.”
He caught my sarcasm. “When will Sleepy be ready? I haven’t seen him around.”
“Neither have I.” I did not lie, did I? “I’ve been mapping the inside of Overlook.” Which I had, whenever there were no other demands on my time. I had not put much effort into following up on the people I was supposed to watch. “You know how deep into the earth its basements go?”
“No. And neither do the crows.”
He was probably wrong about that. Soulcatcher had been a prisoner in Overlook’s deeps, once upon a time. But the point got through. Our days of paranoia were far from over.
“Gotcha. Think I’ll go for a walk.”
* * *
I found One-Eye seated across the fire from Mother Gota. They were not talking but them just tolerating each other was an epic amazement.
Was the little wizard trying to sell her on Goblin? He did have that sneaky look, like he was up to something really villainous.
I went on to One-Eye’s dugout. My tagalong sat down beside his mom. She dished him up some nasty imitation Nyueng Bao chow. He ate in silence.
I slipped through the ragged blankets into One-Eye’s den. It stank in there. I do not know who he thought he was fooling. There was no mistaking the smell of the mash. The results would taste as bad as that mess smelled. He put in anything he thought would ferment.
Smoke lay sprawled on a cot. One-Eye had gotten Loftus and his brothers to make it. The comatose wizard had the best bed in the province. I settled into the chair beside it, wondering if it would be possible to manage without him entirely.
I would experiment later, I decided. At the moment reliability was important.
I had to get him out of that hole, though. As soon as I could sneak him over to Croaker’s. Who would shit a brick.
* * *
I went after Sleepy first. I found him still waiting at Banh Do Trang’s city place. I followed Trang into the swamp. The old man appeared troubled. I could not tell why. In present time he was still far from the temple where Sahra was getting bigger by the minute.
It was scarcely a week since I had seen her yet she seemed to have swollen dramatically. I recalled the jokes the grown-ups had cracked about pregnant women when I was a kid. They did not seem that funny now.
I wanted to be there even though I knew my presence would be valueless. Babies get born every day with no help from their fathers and, everywhere I have ever been, no help wanted. At birthing time women stood united and wanted no men around.
Once again I found a time when Sahra would be alone, then tried to materialize in fron
t of her. My luck held. It was bad again. I managed only to frighten her thoroughly.
“You’ll know soon,” I tried to say, but managed only to scare the swallows in the thatch overhead.
I could be patient. This game was all in my hands now. Uncle Doj and Mother Gota did not have a clue that I knew.
I went to check up on the Radisha Drah.
At a glance I had to say she regretted sending Cordy Mather off to check up on us bad boys. She was a cranky old witch without her playtoy.
People noticed, too. Not a good thing, with priests always looking for an angle.
More work for me, keeping an eye on them. Have to talk it over with Croaker, see if he wanted to make a project of it.
I saw nothing else of interest in Taglios. The victory at Charandaprash was general knowledge now. People of all castes and religions, rich and poor, supporters of the Black Company or its enemies, apparently took it for granted that Overlook would come next, easily. I found no fear of the Shadowmaster anywhere I looked.
Looked like Taglios was headed for peacetime and its good old back-stabbing ways—perhaps prematurely.
I moved back south, tracing Cordy Mather.
Mather must have been disgruntled. He had not taken his assignment to heart. He and his companions had not yet reached Charandaprash. I did not take time to explore but they seemed to be waiting for good weather. And nobody was any more eager than Mather to get to the fighting.
They thought the war was won, too. Why go over there where people were still killing each other? A guy could get hurt! Not to mention the cold, the primitive living conditions, the lack of entertainment and gourmet cuisine …
I came back over to the cold and bloody side of the Dandha Presh, zoomed around looking for signs of Mogaba, Goblin, the forvalaka, Soulcatcher. Smoke could not, or would not, find any of them, though Catcher’s general location could be determined by the density of crows.
She had not moved from where I had spied her meeting with the Old Man.
Smoke would approach the Shadowgate no more closely than ever before.
Damn! Almost the entire strength of what Croaker called his Old Division was established now in the gullies and rocky slopes of the ground between Overlook and the Shadowgate, astride the road south to Khatovar. Some of those fools, posted up close to the Shadowgate, kept sniping at what they thought they saw on the other side. A few fireballs always drifted through the chill air.
