She Is the Darkness

by Glen Cook

  I wondered if Longshadow and Howler had any notion how exhausted she must be, if they would try to turn things around by taking advantage of that. I shivered.

  The Captain nodded to himself. “We go at three in the morning. Meantime, everybody rest.” His general’s mask faded whenever he looked at Lady. In those moments his feelings, were pretty obvious.

  I drifted off into a reverie, recalling the nightmares Lady had described in her book, all so obsessed with death and destruction, much like the ones I kept having. I was sure she was suffering those again. She was fighting sleep most of the time, trying to avoid them. I visualized Kina as Lady had described her, black and tall, naked, glistening, with four arms and eight teats, vampire fangs and nifty jewelry made from babies’ skulls and severed penises. Not exactly a girl just like good old mom. I wondered if Lady had been dreaming any of the times I had glimpsed something that might have been Kina.

  I started. For an instant I thought I had caught a whiff of Kina’s perfume, which was the stench of rotting corpses.

  There would be plenty of that here soon enough. Only the cold kept it from being really bad already.

  I squeaked. Thai Dei was shaking me. Where had he come from? He looked troubled. Croaker was staring at me, too. So were the others. I had drifted right off into a nightmare, never realizing I was gone. The Captain asked, “What’s the matter?”

  “Bad dream.”

  Lady was just leaving with Swan and Blade. She stopped, looked back at me. Her nostrils moved restlessly, as though she could smell that stench, too. She eyed me hard.

  “Excuse me?” I had missed another question while Lady and I exchanged looks.

  “Your in-laws, Murgen. Where are your in-laws?”

  “I don’t know. This morning they turned up over there in the Deceiver camp and went berserk.” I spoke softly because I was not sure there was any language I could get past Lady and her tagalongs. “Uncle Doj sliced up about fifty Deceivers while Mother Gota covered his back. It was a sight. You don’t want to get that old woman mad.” I shifted to Nyueng Bao. “Thai Dei. Where are Doj and your mother?”

  He shrugged. That could mean he did not know or that he was not going to say.

  “Thai Dei doesn’t know, either.” But where had Thai Dei been lately? He had not been underfoot for nearly a day.

  Referring to what I had said about Uncle Doj and Mother Gota, Croaker said, “I’ve told you a million times not to exaggerate. Old people can’t —”

  “I’m not exaggerating. Blood and shit were everywhere. That old boy’s sword moved so fast you could hardly see it. All those assholes wanted to do was get out of his way. Singh grabbed the girl and ran for it. He’s hiding out under Mogaba’s tower right now. Even the Daughter of Night was a little rattled by the way things were going.”

  “What about your in-laws?”

  Stubborn bastard. “They’ve disappeared, all right? I haven’t looked for them. Maybe the soldiers got them.” I doubted that, though.

  The old man nodded. He glanced at Thai Dei. “I’ll get the angle on them yet. Get some sleep. Be long hours tomorrow.”

  Seemed to me like I ought to be plenty well rested.

  Thai Dei looked like he really wished he understood a few more languages.

  30

  I was right. The heights were the key to the pass. But no genius was needed to figure that out, was it?

  Renewed fighting began with a shower of firebombs. For the first time our entire front discharged bamboo poles uphill. Lady foamed at the mouth, cursing the waste.

  Once again the Prahbrindrah Drah had been awarded the honor of the first charge.

  It was hard to believe that Mogaba’s soldiers had not been obliterated by the preparatory barrage but the Prince ran into fierce, stubborn resistance. The Shadowlanders fought ferociously now because they saw no other options. Their training took over, the way it is supposed to do in deadly situations. The Prince pushed hard but got nowhere.

  Mogaba had managed to create a small reserve mostly out of imagination. He shuttled them here and there, applying mind, spirit and will to his own salvation. But he was accursed. And his curse was his lunatic employer.

  Longshadow was nothing if not flexible when his own ass was in a sling. Till now the whole point of existence had been to hold the pass against the Black Company. The world would end if we crossed the Dandha Presh. But when the fireballs started zipping around his ears, sizzling black pockmarks out of the tower, he developed a new idea. He told Howler, “Get your carpet ready. General. Summon the Deceiver Singh, the child, and your five most valuable officers.” Of a sudden he seemed entirely calm, totally rational, completely in control, apparently the sort of supreme ruler any man would prefer.

  Howler stared at him half a minute before he nodded. The little wizard wore a mask of his own but that did not hide his contempt.

  “Withdrawal at this point would be premature,” Mogaba said. I was about ready to concede that the man was a saint. A devil saint, but a saint nonetheless. His patience seemed almost infinite. Longshadow was worse than a spoiled child. I wondered how he had become so powerful. “The situation can be retrieved if you’ll just let me do it.”

  “You will do as I tell you, General.”

  “I suppose. Just as I have for four years. Which has brought us to this. The finest army of this age is being brought to despair by men who have only to design strategies that exploit the egotism, fears and fantasies of one wizard whose knowledge of things material does not extend to which end of a spear you grasp. I find that they are, by the by, astonishingly well informed about your character flaws.”

  Mogaba brushed Howler with a jaundiced glance. Paranoia and suspicion were not exclusive to our side. Neither were private agendas.

  Longshadow sputtered in outrage.

  Mogaba did not let up. “I will not summon my captains. I will not abandon my positions or desert my troops simply because your courage has deserted you. If you wish to go, go. Let us fight. We may die in fires sent up by the Senjak woman but at least no man of mine will be cut down from behind.”

  Longshadow sputtered. He was about to go berserk.

  “Find some backbone, man. Find the guts to let the professionals do their jobs. Make your soldiers want to fight for you.” Mogaba turned his back on the Shadowmaster. “Messenger.” He sent word to the heights above that he was not pleased with the way things were going there.

  A tall Shadar with an exceptional arm was lobbing firebombs fearfully close to Mogaba’s tower. He had Narayan and the Daughter of Night very nervous down below.

  For a while I thought Mogaba was going to carry his point and get away with his rebellion. He scattered messengers everywhere, steadying his troops. And Longshadow actually calmed down after a few minutes instead of flying into an inarticulate rage. He was reflective for quite some time. I feared that Mogaba had gotten through and convinced him of the truth that there was no better ground to meet us, no better men to fight us, no better commander to crush us. I feared his well honed instinct for self-preservation had kicked in.

  Then some darkness gradually enveloped the Shadowmaster. I could have sworn that it did not come from within him.

  Longshadow squealed like a wounded hog. He stomped and shrieked in a tongue no one understood and fell to his knees. He shuddered all over, having some sort of seizure. This was not like his usual fits of rage. He moaned and wept and talked in a way that made me wonder if even he understood what he was saying. Everyone on the tower gaped. Howler looked around like he expected incoming trouble of the cruelest kind. I took a swift look at Lady but found her doing nothing. She was just more alert than usual, sensing something but not knowing what it might be.

  Whimpering, Longshadow climbed to his feet. He faced Mogaba. He began to stomp and shriek while he did something with his skinny, gloved fingers.

  Mogaba suddenly dropped like he had gotten crowned by an axe handle.

  Longshadow raged at the waiting messeng
ers. He sent one to summon Singh and the child, others after his preferred officers. Those couriers went without any enthusiasm, which you would expect of guys who had just heard they were going to be allowed to stay behind and die so their nutcase boss could make his getaway.

  Only the man sent for Narayan Singh actually did his job. The rest decided to get a head start hiking south. They saw no reason to accept betrayal.

  Our guys on the heights managed to get a few firebombs into the structure of the observation tower. A sniper plinked away with a bamboo pole. His marksmanship left plenty to be desired. But those little balls of fire would not fly as predictably as an arrow.

  Longshadow had Mogaba carried onto Howler’s carpet. Howler said nothing though I thought it was obvious he agreed with Mogaba that the day was not yet lost.

  Hell, it seemed to me they were a lot more afraid of Lady than they needed to be. I thought one big sorcerous shitstorm would take care of her. But maybe she had them fooled. Maybe Howler remembered the old days too well to go head-to-head with her now.

  No matter. They were not willing to employ their strengths.

  The carpet Howler had brought to Charandaprash was far larger than the one that he had had damaged earlier. It could haul a dozen people and all their gear.

  Longshadow stopped raging. He seemed baffled by his own behavior, once actually whispering, “What have I done now?” He knew that he had screwed up but he was the kind of guy who, after he shoots his mouth off, cannot back down or admit any failing. The world is full of those people. All of us would be better off if their fathers would strangle them as soon as they showed signs of being that way. This particular fool was willing to sacrifice an army rather than admit his error.

  A dozen men were on the platform when Singh and the child arrived. Mostly they were messengers not yet sent out. A few were officers. As Narayan and the Daughter of Night boarded the carpet even the dumbest soldiers realized that the big boys were running. After Longshadow stepped aboard and started to rave again, those about to be left decided not to stay. They joined the rush as Howler lifted the carpet. The carpet shuddered, sank to one side, banged off the edge of the platform, started sliding sideways toward the cliff.

  Instantly firebombs came down. Soldiers dodged. The carpet wobbled worse. Men fell off. A firebomb scored. As the flames spread Howler gained better control. The carpet headed south, staggering like a drunken comet.

  The men on the heights opened up with their bamboo gizmos. Howler dodged madly through the shitstorm. He did not dodge everything. Longshadow’s desperate sorceries barely kept them from being eaten alive.

  What was wrong with Lady? This was her chance. The villains were preoccupied with saving their own butts. If she brought them down now the thing would be done. And Narayan Singh and the kid would be ours for the collection.

  Came a sound like ten thousand competing whispers, like a million, like a hundred million, swelling into the rush of a cyclone. It passed me, invisible, and chased up the pass. A horror-struck silence occupied its wake. It must have been a hundred times as terrifying outside the ghostworld. Soldiers from both sides put down their arms to watch.

  Howler loosed a wail of despair heard above all the other racket. That woke up the gawkers on the cliffs who really had nothing better to do than blow fireballs at flying wizards. The fireworks show resumed, redoubled.

  Howler headed for the ground. His companions’ help was inadequate. He could not fly and fight at the same time. The carpet hit hard. Soldiers were thrown all over the slopes, Mogaba among them. Most just ran for it. Mogaba, when he recovered consciousness, began stumbling back toward his troops, oblivious to the shitstorm around him. He must have had divine dispensation because no harm found him.

  Despite the flatness of the ghostworld I felt a surge of elation. We had them! This battle was won. This war was moments from being over! Lady’s whispering witchery would gnaw away at Howler and the Shadowmaster while the guys on the cliffs inundated them with fireballs.

  The expanse and depth of the Captain’s ambush, crafted over years, all predicated upon the Shadowmaster’s character, was only now emerging from the shadows. It overwhelmed me, not just because it had worked but because every contingency had been foreseen. Only he and his gods knew what else he had been ready for. There were tons of materiel down there still unused.

  It was over. The road was open. I started back to One-Eye’s wagon. We would have to move fast to make sure the Company stayed in a position to take advantage. First thing might be to get all our Company brothers together.

  How long before I learn not to rack my eggs up as guaranteed fryers?

  The Old Man was not trying to provoke the response he got. Neither was Lady, though she might have feared it. I do not believe Croaker had any idea anything of the sort was possible.

  I was almost to the wagon when the ghost realm filled with a stench like somebody just kicked open all the tombs that ever were. I had not encountered much in the way of smells there before and all those had been nothing compared to this.

  Fear hit me. Panic was a scant half step behind. I got out of there fast, before the fear made it impossible for me to recall how to escape.

  Back up the canyon the Daughter of Night stood atop a boulder, oblivious to the fireballs streaking past, her little arms uplifted to greet oncoming darkness, summoning, her lips taut in an evil smile.

  Something was coming. Something that I had glimpsed before.

  31

  I tumbled out of the wagon, sort of hung on to the seat with one hand, dangling like a monkey. It was far later than I had thought. Not only was it dark out, dawn seemed to be coming again.

  No. This was no dawn. This light came from neither sun nor moon. It came from the pass. Had the firebombs ignited some Shadowlander supply dump?

  I wished that was it. I knew better. That was no mundane fire.

  I ran toward Lady’s headquarters, stumbling more than making good time. My body was drained. Whatever was happening. Lady would be involved. And being near her might be the safest place.

  I did not have far to run but the show was about over before I arrived. Surrounded by her intimates Lady was trying to get the Howler still but failed through no fault of her own.

  A new player had come to the game.

  Initially its shape and color were unclear. Then it collided with Lady’s power. Power killed power in light. That light showed me something I did not want to see.

  It was black. It was a hundred feet tall. It had four arms. It was the thing that haunted Lady’s dreams and, sometimes, ghosted into mine. It was the darkness that had claimed Croaker’s daughter.

  Lady battled that colossus before a hundred thousand eyes and, by doing so, confused a lot of people.

  The Deceivers had to be whooping it up. Things had gotten tough for them but here was concrete proof that the Year of the Skulls could be achieved. That it might be at hand. That their goddess had grown strong enough to reach into our world to protect her chosen daughter and the living saint, Narayan Singh.

  That image of Kina was a lot like Longshadow’s pets, though. It was not immune to fireballs from Lady’s bamboo poles. The panic its appearance caused lured plenty of those into the air. Soon it resembled some mythological creature on a moth-eaten tapestry.

  The thing ended before I could catch my breath. Kina guttered, vanished. It persisted only long enough for her child and her protectors to make their getaway. Still listing and smoldering, Howler’s carpet passed from sight. The hundred million whispers began to fade.

  Lady collapsed. They lifted her onto the stretcher. Swan and Blade manned its ends. Her most loyal soldiers surrounded them, men who had been with her for years. I told Swan, “You don’t have to worry about them up there. They’re headed for Overlook with their tails between their legs. Mogaba is unconscious and probably hurt. Nobody is in charge anymore.”

  Swan gave me an incredulous look. “What the hell you telling me for? Find your damned Cap
tain and tell him.”

  “Good idea.” I went.

  32

  The Prahbrindrah Drah’s division suffered horribly yet again. Mogaba’s men refused to forget the first law of survival: never turn your back. It is hard to kill a soldier who clings to his training when every instinct and emotion tells him to throw down his arms and ran away or to curl up in a ball to shut out the terror.

  The whole point of drilling soldiers till they whine about the stupidity of it all is so those soldiers will do the right thing automatically when the terror comes. Combat is fear and management of fear far more than it is organized murder. Those who manage fear best will seize the day.

  The Old Man observed for so long, without intervening in the Prince’s situation, that his own staff started grumbling. I asked him why he was holding off.

  “I want him to show Taglios what he’s made of. I want to see that myself. I don’t want there to be any doubts about him when he takes charge.”

  It had a nice ring but still sounded suspect. I was developing a very suspicious attitude where Croaker was concerned.

  Later he had Lady’s division, supported by Willow Swan’s Guards, replace the Prince’s division. Lady made rapid gains until Mogaba managed to reassert his control on the other side. She was so exhausted the witcheries she could manage amounted to little more than distractions.

  I wondered why Croaker did not just back off until she recovered. I no longer spent much time trying to unravel his thoughts, though. Dark designs or otherwise, I did not know the man anymore.

  He withdrew Lady’s division shortly before noon. He moved archers up on the flanks, arrayed his own two divisions for the advance, in the follow on mode where one force fights to exhaustion, then the next advances through its positions to attack the hopefully decimated enemy. But before the drums began their grim chant he took a white flag forward. I tagged along, carrying the standard. The damned thing needed to go on a diet. It seemed to be getting heavier.