by Glen Cook
In another part of the Palace the Radisha was going about the daily business of ruling an empire, she and all the powerful priests and lords and functionaries going along with the pretense that she was just standing in momentarily for her brother, the Prahbrindrah Drah. As long as everybody agreed not to notice the Prince’s extended absence, the engines of state continued to function reasonably well.
In truth, though never stated publicly, the state operated much more efficiently without the Prince present to filter and soften his sister’s will.
I found the Woman and buzzed around her like an invisible mosquito, forward and backward in time, sticking my long nose into her every conversation excepting those she had with Cordy Mather when no one else was around. Much.
I heard enough to know Mather was getting used. But it was use most men willingly endure, at least for a while.
Her conversations with several senior priests were interesting, though never as explicit as I would like. The Radisha had matured in the seldom friendly environment of the Palace, where a thousand plots great and small were afoot every day, at the best of times, and there were always ears eager to pick up anything you said.
She did not plan to keep her word to the Captain and Company. Surprise, surprise. But she was not yet pursuing any vigorous course of betrayal. Like everyone else she was certain Croaker’s winter campaign was either a tactic not directed at the Shadowmaster at all or if pursued genuinely would result in a debacle for Taglian arms. This despite our having seized victory in the face of certain defeat on several occasions earlier.
We just might be able to make her sorry she was not a more ambitious backstabber.
What other avenues needed exploration? Goblin? He could manage without me watching over his shoulder.
Out of curiosity and because I was not yet ready to return to the world, I traced each of my in-laws back for the last few weeks. I learned nothing that would support the Old Man’s paranoia. But they were a cautious folk, just three of them out here amongst folk no Nyueng Bao had reason to trust or love. Thai Dei and Uncle Doj said very little about anything, just like they did when I was around. Mother Gota was little different, too. She just complained about different things.
Her opinion of me was not completely flattering. Hardly an hour passed when she failed to take the opportunity to damn her mother for having wished me onto the family Ky.
There were times when I was not too fond of Hong Tray for having wished all her family on me.
What should I see now? I was not ready to go back yet. Narayan Singh and the Daughter of Night? They were at Charandaprash with Mogaba, collecting the scabby remnants of the Deceiver cult under the Shadowmaster’s standard. Not much mischief they could get up to there.
Lady, then. Then I would report to the Captain. I had not been tracking her but wherever she was I was likely to find somebody the Company needed to watch, like the Prahbrindrah Drah or Willow Swan.
The Prince was not in Lady’s camp. He was capable of letting duty overrule wishful thinking. He was with his own division, paying attention to business.
Charandaprash was no longer that far away. Around the lake, over a few hills and valleys, then there we would be, staring across the stony plain at the mouth of the only practical pass through the Dandha Presh.
Swan was close to Lady, of course. He looked worried whether I rolled back through the days or stayed hovering right now. Lady was having problems she would not share with him or anyone else. She looked as though she had been getting no sleep. I knew she slept very little at the best of times. For her to abandon sleep like this now, as we neared our most important confrontation in years, one that could become a defining event in the Company’s history, suggested that she had no faith in the future at all.
Running through time did give me a clue or two, though. She was indeed doing without sleep. And whenever she did take a nap she did not rest well. She seemed to be having dreams as ugly as some of mine.
For some reason crows never came close to her. But they were always around, somewhere in the distance, watching.
Lady was not interesting. She did nothing but work. She did not bother to look overwhelmingly beautiful anymore, unlike her sister. Was she, like some women do, going all dowdy because she had herself a man?
She was just fine as far as Willow Swan was concerned. Even after four years of no luck at all he was happy to tag along, using his assignment as commander of royal guards as an excuse to stay near the front.
So what was worth reporting here? That Lady had to get some rest?
Maybe. Exhaustion could impair her judgment at a critical moment.
I started to back away, drifting up and over Lake Tanji, which was pretty damned impressive even from Smoke’s point of view.
I shivered in the cold wind...
There was no wind out there with Smoke. There was no warm, no cold, no hunger, no pain. There was just being and sight.
And fear.
For there in the gathering darkness above the lake’s southern shore was a dark ghost of a form with many arms and teats and wicked black lips drawn back to reveal a vampire’s grin.
You can panic out there. I did.
18
“You all right?” One-Eye asked as I came to the front of the wagon. It was dark out. He had turned his team loose to forage nearby, had a fire burning, and was now back on his driver’s seat polishing a spear that looked as though it had been carved from ebony, inlaid with silver highlighting a hundred grotesque figures. “You were thrashing around and yelling back there.”
“Thanks for coming to see what was wrong.”
“The old woman said you do that all the time. Didn’t seem worth worrying about.”
“Probably wasn’t. I just rolled over on your still parts.” Not true but I had a feeling he would have some around somewhere. Even during the worst of the siege of Dejagore he and Goblin had managed to produce something they pretended was beer.
He bought it long enough to give himself away. If this damned wagon stayed in one place very long something better used as food or horse fodder would turn into something else stinky but liquid and alcoholic.
“What’s the spear for?” I asked. “Haven’t seen it out for a while.” He had created it for the specific purpose of killing Shadowmasters.
“Talked to some of our brothers who’ve been with Lady’s division. Came by while you were snoring. Big Bucket and Red Rudy. Said they’ve seen a big black cat a couple three times lately. Figured I ought to be set with my best.”
He did not sound concerned but he was. That spear was a masterpiece of his art.
The cat was probably a shapeshifter named Lisa Daele Bowalk who could not shed her animal form because One-Eye had killed her teacher before she learned how. She had tried to get him before. He was confident that she would try again.
“Catch her if you can,” I told him. “I got a notion we could use her if we let Lady work on her for a while.”
“Right. That’ll be the main thing on my mind.”
“I’m going to see the Old Man.”
“Tell him I want to go home. It’s too damned cold out here for an old man like me.”
I chuckled, the way I was supposed to. I got down to the ground despite my stiffness and headed the general direction I presumed Croaker would be, based on the size of the fires.
Good thing One-Eye and I made a habit of using old languages. Thai Dei stepped out of the shadows before I had walked twenty feet. He said nothing but he was there guarding my back, wanted or not.
19
The journey continued. Wagons broke down. Animals came up lame. Men injured themselves. Elephants complained about the weather. So did I. It snowed a couple of times, not blankets of big soft wet flakes but the wind-whipped pellet kind that stings your skin and never amounts to anything but a few traces when it is done.
On the plus side, Mogaba’s cavalry never really got in our way. They were no problem as long as our foragers and scouts
did not range too far ahead. I guess Mogaba was more interested in knowing where we were than in wasting soldiers trying to stop us before we came to his strong point.
Then one afternoon nobody received the routine order to halt and camp. The soldiers stumbled forward doggedly, cursing the bite of the wind while reminding one another that generals are seldom of sound mind and unbesmirched ancestry. They would not be generals if they were.
I went looking for the Captain.
There he was, his big crows on his shoulders. More circled him, bickering. He was smiling, the one happy fool in the army. The generals’ general. “Hey, boss. We going to keep humping it all night?”
“We’re less than ten miles from Charanky whatsit. I think it would be nice to be camped there when Mogaba gets up in the morning.”
He lived in his own reality, no doubt about that. Had to be a general. He actually believed he could play with Mogaba’s mind.
He had not seen Mogaba at Dejagore. Not enough.
I said, “We’ll be so beat he can come over and dance on our heads.”
“But he won’t. Longshadow has a ball and chain tied to his tail.”
“So he kicks ass and lies to his boss later.”
“That what you’d do?”
“Uh...” I might.
“Longshadow will be here watching him. Go get some sleep. When the sun comes up I want you perched on Mogaba’s shoulder.” Uncle Doj was only steps away, taking everything in. We were speaking Forsberger but I wondered if that was enough of a security measure.
Those crows were never far away.
What I got from the exchange was that Croaker did have a plan. Sometimes it was hard to believe that.
“I’m not tired right now.” I was hungry and thirsty, though. Any extended period spent with Smoke leaves me that way. I took advantage of the staff officers’ mess.
Messengers began to come and go. Croaker grumbled, “Guess it’s time to start telling people what they need to do.”
“There’s an original concept. After all these years.”
“Do we really need another smartass Annalist, Murgen? Get some rest.”
He began gathering senior officers for a meeting. I was not invited.
I went back to One-Eye’s wagon, where I ate some more, drank a lot of water and then went ghostwalking again.
Me and the fire chief eavesdropped on Croaker and his commanders but I should not have wasted the time. I learned very little. Croaker did all the talking, referring to a detailed map showing everyone where he wanted each unit to light in front of Mogaba. The only real surprise was that he wanted the Prahbrindrah Drah’s division stationed in the center while his own two divisions positioned themselves on the right flank excepting one specially trained combat team he wanted on the extreme left, outside Lady’s left flank.
Interesting. Our right wing just happened to face and lap the Shadowlander division Blade had been given to command. Croaker really wanted Blade.
Narrow-eyed, Lady asked, “Why did you decide to arrange the army this way? We’ve talked about this for three years...”
Croaker told her, “Because this is where I want you all.” Lady had trouble keeping her temper. In a long life she had not had to do that much.
Croaker smelled the smoke. “When I don’t explain to you nobody else finds out what I’m planning, either.” He offered some tidbit to one of his crows.
That helped. A little. But the Prahbrindrah Drah and most of the rest had no idea of the significance of Croaker’s crows.
I left Smoke, drank again, snacked, made sure the sleeper got some soup. He did not need nearly as much sustenance as I did. Maybe he was sucking on me out there, like some kind of psychic spider.
I slept. I had bad dreams that I recalled only in shards when I awakened. The Radisha was there. Soulcatcher was there. I suppose the old men in the caverns were there, too, though none of that stuck. Somewhere a bleak fortress.
I gave up trying to remember, went out with Smoke to try to see our approach as the enemy would.
Fireballs scattered colored pearls across the night. Torches speckled distant slopes with islands and snakes of light. The Shadowlander commanders watched without remark except when Blade suggested that the Captain was making his force appear more formidable by burning lots of torches.
They were not concerned. A lot of the junior officers expected Longshadow to turn them loose after they stomped us. They saw themselves heading north in early spring, with the whole summer to plunder and punish.
But a few were veterans of armies we had embarrassed in the past. Those men showed us more respect. And betrayed a more intense desire to cause us pain. They did not believe it would be easy but they did believe we would be defeated.
Mogaba himself seemed more taken with his plans for a counterinvasion than he was interested in further preparing to withstand us here.
I did not like it but I saw no real reason to believe they were overconfident.
Still, all those fireballs and torches were heartening.
That vast mass in motion out there had been inspired by the Black Company. And I had no trouble recalling when there were just seven of us, as unprepossessing a bunch of thugs as ever walked the earth. That was barely more than five years ago. Triumph or failure, this campaign would survive as a mighty drumbeat in the Annals.
I went back to my flesh and slept again. When I awakened our vanguards were already approaching the Plain of Charandaprash. Mist had formed in all the low places and gullies.
20
We stopped amidst a grand hubbub. I leaned out of the wagon.
The mists had become an all enveloping fog. People with torches hustled hither and yon, their torches glowing like witch lights. None came near me. All the forces had come together and now the world was very crowded.
Croaker appeared. I told him, “You look totally beat.”
“My ass is banging off my heels.” He climbed aboard, checked Smoke, settled down and closed his eyes.
“Well?”
“Uhm?”
“You’re here. How come? And what about your goddamned pets? They watching?”
For a moment I thought he had gone to sleep that quickly. He did not answer immediately. But: “I’m hiding out. From the birds, too. One-Eye scared them off.” About two minutes later, he added, “I don’t like it, Murgen.”
“What don’t you like?”
“Being Captain. I wish I could’ve stayed Annalist and physician. There’s less pressure.”
“You’re managing all right.”
“Not the way I hear it. I wasn’t Captain I wouldn’t have any long-term worries, either.”
“Hell. And here I thought you were having the time of your life baffling the shit out of everybody.”
“All I’ve ever wanted was to take us home. But they won’t let me.”
“It’s for sure nobody’s ever going to open any doors for us. Especially not the Radisha. What to do about us seems to be on her mind a lot lately.”
“It ought to be.” He smiled. “And I haven’t forgotten her.” He paused a moment, then said, “You’re up on your Annals. What was the bloodiest mess we ever got ourselves into?”
“Right here is my guess. Back in the beginning, four hundred years ago. But that’s only by implication in the surviving Annals.”
“History may repeat itself.” He did not sound thrilled. Not at all. He was not a bloodthirsty man.
Neither am I, despite the hatreds I obsess over here. But my scruples do have blind areas. I do want to see several thousand villains suffer for what happened to Sahra.
Croaker asked, “Do you know of any way to authenticate the lost Annals you took back from Soulcatcher?”
“What?” What a horrible question. It never occurred to me before. “You saying you think they might not be real?”
“I couldn’t read them but I could see that they weren’t originals. They were copies.”
“They might not have told the true
story?”
“Smoke believed every word in the ones he had. And oral history supports his view of the Company as the terror of the ages, though there aren’t any specifics. But I do have to wonder because there just aren’t any contemporary accounts from independent observers.”
“Something happened. Even if these books we have now are fabrications. What’re you thinking?”
For a moment Croaker seemed tired of fighting. “Murgen, there’s something going on that’s more than you and me and Lady, the Taglians and the Shadowmasters and all that. Strange things are happening and they don’t add up any other way. I started to wonder when you kept falling into the past.”
“I think Soulcatcher had something to do with that.”
“She may well have. She’s got her fingers in everywhere else. But I don’t think she’s all of it. I think we’re all — even Soulcatcher — being manipulated. And I’m even beginning to think that it’s been going on for ages. That if we had the true firsts of the missing Annals and could read them we might see ourselves and what’s happening in a whole different way.”
“Are you talking about the thing Lady goes on about in her book? Kina? Because I’ve seen her myself, a couple of times, when I was out walking the ghost. Or what I think was her based on myth and what Lady wrote.”
“Kina. Yes. Or something that wants us to think it’s Kina.”
“Wouldn’t that be the same thing, as far as we’re concerned?”
“Uhm. I think she’s having those dreams again.”
I thought so myself. “Looked like that to me, too. She’s getting pretty haggard.”
“I thought a lot about this during the trip down here. Not much to do but think when you’re riding all day. My guess is, things have started going too fast for Kina. This is a critter that’s used to shaping long, slow shadow plays, manipulations that can take decades to unfold. Maybe even generations in our case. Her big scheme might have begun way back before our fore-brethren headed north. But now we’re coming home to roost and everything is happening too fast for her. The more she tries to guide events the more hamhanded she gets.”
