Chronicles of the Black Company

by Glen Cook

  I sat down opposite the girl and began to question her. Shed said he had told her almost everything. I wanted to know if she knew anything about Raven that could give him or us away.

  I got no chance to find out.

  There was a great rush of air around the house. A roar like a tornado passing. A crack like thunder.

  Otto said it all. “Oh shit! Taken.”

  The door blew inward. I rose, stomach twisting, heart hammering. Feather came in looking like she’d just walked through a burning building. Wisps of smoke rose from her smouldering apparel.

  “What the hell?” I asked.

  “The castle. I got too close. They almost knocked me out of the sky. What have you got?”

  I told my story quickly, not omitting the fact that we had allowed a corpse to get past. I indicated Shed. “One dead, trying to fight questioning. But this one is healthy.” I indicated the girl.

  Feather moved close to the girl. She had taken a real blast out there. I did not feel the aura of great power rigidly constrained that one usually senses in the presence of the Taken. And she did not sense the life still throbbing in Marron Shed. “So young.” She lifted the girl’s chin. “Oh. What eyes. Fire and steel. The Lady will love this one.”

  “We keep the watch?” I asked, assuming she would confiscate the prisoner.

  “Of course. There may be others.” She faced me. “No more will get through. The margin is too narrow. Whisper will forgive the latest. But the next is your doom.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Only it’s hard to do and not attract the attention of the locals. We can’t just go set up a roadblock.”

  “Why not?”

  I explained. She had scouted the black castle and knew the lay of the land. “You’re right. For the moment. But your Company will be here soon. There’ll be no need for secrecy then.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Feather took the girl’s hand. “Come,” she said.

  I was amazed at how docilely our hellcat followed Feather. I went outside and watched Feather’s battered carpet rise and hurry toward Duretile. One despairing cry floated in its wake.

  I found Shed in the doorway when I turned to go inside. I wanted to smack him for that, but controlled myself.

  “Who was that?” he asked. “What was that?”

  “Feather. One of the Taken. One of my bosses.”

  “Sorceress?”

  “One of the greatest. Go sit. Let’s talk. I need to know exactly what that girl knows about Raven and Darling.”

  Intense questioning convinced me that Lisa did not know enough to arouse Whisper’s suspicions. Unless Whisper connected the name Raven with the man who had helped capture her years ago.

  I continued grilling Shed till first light. He practically begged to tell every filthy detail of his story. He had a big need to confess. Over coming days, when I sneaked down to the Buskin, he revealed everything recorded where he appears as the focal character. I do not think I have met many men who disgusted me more. Nastier men, yes. I have encountered scores. Greater villains come by the battalion. Shed’s leavening of self-pity and cowardice reduced him from those categories to an essentially pathetic level.

  Poor dolt. He was born to be used.

  And yet.… There was one guttering spark in Marron Shed, reflected in his relationships with his mother, Raven, Asa, Lisa, Sal, and Darling, that he noted but did not recognize himself. He had a hidden streak of charity and decency. It was the gradual growth of that spark, with its eventual impact upon the Black Company, which makes me feel obligated to record all the earlier noxious details about that frightened little man.

  The morning following his capture, I rode into the city in Shed’s wagon and allowed him to open the Iron Lily as usual. During the morning I got Elmo and Goblin in for a conference. Shed was unsettled when he discovered that we all knew one another. Only through sheer luck had he not been taken earlier.

  Poor fellow. The grilling never ceased. Poor us. He could not tell us everything we wanted to know.

  “What are we going to do about the girl’s father?” Elmo asked.

  “If there is a letter, we’ve got to grab it,” I replied. “We can’t have anybody stirring up more problems. Goblin, you take care of the papa. He’s even a little suspicious, see he has a heart attack.”

  Sourly, Goblin nodded. He asked Shed for the father’s whereabouts, departed. And returned within half an hour. “A great tragedy. He didn’t have a letter. She was bluffing. But he did know too much that would come out under questioning. This business is beginning to get to me. Hunting Rebels was cleaner. You knew who was who and where you stood.”

  “I’d better get back up the hill. The Taken might not be understanding about me being down here. Elmo, better keep somebody in Shed’s pocket.”

  “Right. Pawnbroker lives there from now on. That clown takes a crap, he’s holding his hand.”

  Goblin looked remote and thoughtful. “Raven buying a ship. Imagine that. What do you figure he was going to do?”

  “I think he wanted to head straight out to sea,” I said. “I hear there’re islands out there, way out. Maybe another continent. A guy could hide pretty good out there.”

  I went back up the hill and loafed for two days, except to slip off and get everything I could out of Shed. Not a damned thing happened. Nobody else tried to make a delivery. I guess Shed was the only fool in the body business.

  Sometimes I looked at those grim black battlements and wondered. They had taken a crack at Feather. Somebody in there knew the Taken meant trouble. How long before they realized they had been cut off and did something to get the meat supply moving again?

  Juniper: The Return

  Shed was still rattled two days after his capture. Each time he looked across the common room and saw one of those Black Company bastards, he started falling apart again. He was living on borrowed time. He was not sure what use they had for him, but he was sure that when he was used up, they would dump him with the garbage. Some of his babysitters clearly thought him trash. He could not refute their viewpoint in his own mind.

  He was behind his counter, washing mugs, when Asa walked through the door. He dropped a mug.

  Asa met his eye for only an instant, sidled around the L and headed upstairs. Shed took a deep breath and followed. The man called Pawnbroker was a step behind when he reached the head of the stair, moving as silent as death. He had a knife ready for business.

  Shed stepped into what had been Raven’s room. Pawnbroker remained outside. “What the hell are you doing here, Asa? The Inquisitors are after you. About that Catacombs business. Bullock himself went south looking for you.”

  “Easy, Shed. I know. He caught up with us. It got hairy. We left him cut up, but he’ll mend. And he’ll come back looking for you. I came to warn you. You’ve got to get out of Juniper.”

  “Oh, no,” Shed said softly. Another tooth in the jaws of fate. “Been considering that anyway.” That would not tell Pawnbroker anything he could not guess for himself. “Things have gotten rotten here. I’ve started looking for a buyer.” Not true, but he would before day’s end.

  For some reason Asa’s return restored his heart. Maybe just because he felt he had an ally, somebody who shared his troubles.

  Most of the story poured out. Pawnbroker did not take exception. He did not make an appearance.

  Asa had changed. He did not seem shocked. Shed asked why not.

  “Because I spent so much time with Raven. He told me stories that would curl your hair. About the days before he came to Juniper.”

  “How is he?”

  “Dead.”

  “Dead?” Shed gasped.

  “What?” Pawnbroker bulled through the doorway. “Did you say Raven was dead?”

  Asa looked at Pawnbroker, at Shed, at Pawnbroker again. “Shed, you bastard”

  “You shut up, Asa,” Shed snapped. “You haven’t got the faintest what’s happened while you were gone. Pawnbroker is a friend. Sort of.”
>
  “Pawnbroker, eh? Like from the Black Company?”

  Pawnbroker’s eyebrows rose. “Raven been talking?”

  “He had some tales about the old days.”

  “Uh-huh. Right, buddy. That’s me. Let’s get back to Raven being dead.”

  Asa looked at Shed. Shed nodded. “Tell us.”

  “Okay. I don’t really know what happened. We were clearing out after our mix-up with Bullock. Running. His hired thugs caught us by surprise. We’re hiding in some woods outside of town when all of a sudden he starts screaming and jumping around. It don’t make no sense to me.” Asa shook his head. His face was pale and sweaty.

  “Go on,” Shed urged gently.

  “Shed, I don’t know.”

  “What?” Pawnbroker demanded.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t hang around.”

  Shed grimaced. That was the Asa he knew.

  “You’re a real buddy, fellow,” Pawnbroker said.

  “Look.…”

  Shed motioned for silence.

  Asa said, “Shed, you’ve got to get out of Juniper. Fast. Any day a ship could bring a letter from Bullock.”

  “But.…”

  “It’s better down there than we thought, Shed. You got money; you’re all right. They don’t care about the Catacombs. Think it was a big joke on the Custodians. That’s how Bullock found us. Everybody was laughing about the raid. There was even some guys talking about getting up an expedition to come clean them out.”

  “How did anybody find out about the Catacombs, Asa? Only you and Raven knew.”

  Asa looked abashed.

  “Yeah. Thought so. Had to brag, didn’t you?” He was confused and frightened and starting to take it out on Asa. He did not know what to do. He had to get out of Juniper, like Asa said. But how to give his watchdogs the slip? Especially when they knew he had to try?

  “There’s a ship at the Tulwar dock that leaves for Meadenval in the morning, Shed. I had the Captain hold passage for two. Should I tell him you’ll be there, too?”

  Pawnbroker stepped into position to block the doorway. “Neither one of you will be there. Some friends of mine want to talk to you.”

  “Shed, what is this?” Panic edged Asa’s voice.

  Shed looked at Pawnbroker. The mercenary nodded. Shed poured out most everything. Asa did not understand. Shed did not himself, because his chaper-ones had not told him everything, so there was some sense missing from the picture he had.

  Pawnbroker was alone at the Lily. Shed suggested, “How about I go get Goblin?”

  Pawnbroker smiled. “How about we just wait?”

  “But.…”

  “Somebody will turn up. We’ll wait. Let’s go downstairs. You.” He indicated Asa with his blade. “Don’t get any funny ideas.”

  Shed said, “Be careful, Asa. These are the guys Raven was scared of.”

  “I will. I heard enough from Raven.”

  “That’s a pity, too,” Pawnbroker said. “Croaker and Elmo aren’t going to like that. Down, gents. Shed, just go on about your business.”

  “Somebody’s liable to recognize Asa,” Shed warned.

  “We’ll take a chance. Git.” Pawnbroker stood aside and allowed both men to pass. Downstairs, he seated Asa at the shadowiest table and joined him, cleaning his nails with his knife. Asa watched in fascination. Seeing ghosts, Shed figured.

  He could get away now if he wanted to sacrifice Asa. They wanted Asa more than they wanted him. If he just headed out through the kitchen, Pawnbroker would not come after him.

  His sister-in-law came from the kitchen, a platter balanced on each hand. “When you get a minute, Sal.” And when she got the minute: “You think you and the kids could run the place for me for a few weeks?”

  “Sure. Why?” She looked puzzled. But she glanced quickly into the shadows.

  “I might have to go somewhere for a while. I’d feel better if I knew somebody in the family was running the place. I don’t really trust Lisa.”

  “You haven’t heard from her yet?”

  “No. You’d have thought she’d turn up when her father died, wouldn’t you?”

  “Maybe she’s shacked up somewhere and hasn’t heard yet.” Sal did not sound convinced. In fact, Shed suspected, she thought he had something to do with the disappearance. Way too many people had disappeared around him. He was afraid she would do her sums and decide he had had something to do with Wally disappearing, too.

  “There’s one rumor I heard said she got arrested. Keep an eye out for Mom. She’s got good people taking care of her, but they need supervising.”

  “Where are you going, Marron?”

  “I don’t know yet.” He was afraid it might be just a way up the hill, to the Enclosure. If not that, then certainly somewhere, away from everything that had happened here. Away from these merciless men and their even less merciful employers. Have to talk to Asa about the Taken. Maybe Raven had told him something.

  He wished he could get a moment with Asa to plan something. The two of them making a break. But not on the Tulwar ship. Asa had mentioned that, damn him. Some other ship, headed south.

  What had become of Raven’s big new vessel? And Darling?

  He went over to the table. “Asa. What happened to Darling?”

  Asa reddened. He stared at his folded hands. “I don’t know, Shed. Honest. I panicked. I just ran for the first ship headed north.”

  Shed walked away, shaking his head in disgust. Leaving the girl alone like that. Asa hadn’t changed much after all.

  The one called Goblin came through the door. He began to beam at Asa before Pawnbroker said anything. “My, my, my, my, my,” he said. “Is this who I think it is, Pawn?”

  “You got it. The infamous Asa himself, home from the wars. And does he have stories to tell.”

  Goblin seated himself opposite Asa. He wore a big frog grin. “Such as?”

  “Mainly, he claims Raven is dead.”

  Goblin’s smile vanished. In an eye’s blink he became deadly serious. He made Asa tell his story again while staring into a mug of wine. When he finally looked up, he was subdued. “Better talk this over with Elmo and Croaker. Good job, Pawnbroker. I’ll take him. Keep your eye on friend Shed.”

  Shed winced. In the back of his head had lain the small hope that both would leave with Asa.

  His mind was made up. He would flee at the first opportunity. Get south, change his name, use his gold pieces to buy into an inn, behave himself so thoroughly nobody would notice him ever again.

  Asa showed a spark of rebellion. “Who the hell do you guys think you are? Suppose I don’t want to go anywhere?”

  Goblin smiled nastily, muttered something under his breath. Dark brown smoke drifted out of his mug, illuminated by a bloody inner glow. Goblin stared at Asa. Asa stared at the mug, unnerved.

  The smoke coalesced, formed a small, headlike shape. Points began glowing where eyes might be. Goblin said, “My little friend wants you to argue. He feeds on pain. And he hasn’t eaten for a long time. I’ve had to keep a low profile in luniper.”

  Asa’s eyes kept getting bigger. So did Shed’s. Sorcery! He had sensed it in the thing called the Taken, but that had not upset him much. It had been removed, not experienced. Something that had happened to Lisa, out of sight. But this

  It was a minor sorcery, to be sure. Some slight trick. But it was sorcery in a city which saw none other than that involved in the slow growth of the black castle. The dark arts hadn’t gained any following in Juniper.

  “All right,” Asa said. “All right.” His voice was high and thin and squeaky, and he was trying to push his chair back. Pawnbroker prevented him.

  Goblin grinned. “I see Raven mentioned Goblin. Good. You’ll behave. Come along.”

  Pawnbroker released Asa’s chair. The little man followed Goblin docilely.

  Shed sidled over and looked into Goblin’s mug. Nothing. He frowned. Pawnbroker grinned. “Cute trick, eh?”

  “Yeah.” Shed took
the mug to his sink. When Pawnbroker was not looking, he dropped it into the trash. He was more scared than ever. How did he get away from a sorcerer?

  His head filled with tales he had heard from southern sailors. Bad business, wizards were.

  He wanted to weep.

  Juniper: Visitors

  Goblin brought me the man Asa, and insisted we wait for Elmo before questioning him. He had sent someone to dig Elmo out of Duretile, where he was trying to placate Whisper. Whisper was getting goosed by the Lady regular and taking it out on anyone handy.

  Goblin was unsettled by what he had learned. He did not play the usual game and try to make me guess what was going on. He blurted, “Asa says him and Raven had a run-in with Bullock. Raven is dead. He lit out. Darling is on her own down there.”

  Excitement? Better believe it. I was ready to put the little man to the question, then and there. But I controlled myself.

  Elmo was a while showing up. Goblin and I got damned antsy before he did, while Asa worked himself up for a stroke.

  The wait proved worthwhile. Elmo did not come alone.

  The first hint was a faint but sour odor that seemed to come from the fireplace, where I’d had a small fire lighted. Just in case, you know. With a few iron rods set by, ready to be heated, so Asa could look them over and think, and maybe convince himself he ought not to leave anything out.

  “What’s that smell?” somebody asked. “Croaker, you let that cat in again?”

  “I kicked him out after he sprayed my boots,” I said. “Like halfway down the hill. Maybe he got the firewood before he left.”

  The odor grew stronger. It wasn’t really obnoxious, just mildly irritating. We took turns examining the firewood. Nothing.

  I was in the middle of a third search for the source when the fire caught my eye. For a second I saw a face in the flames.

  My heart nearly stopped. For half a minute I was in a panic, nothing but the face’s presence having registered. I considered every evil that could happen: Taken watching, the Lady watching, the things from the black castle, maybe the Dominator himself peeking through our fire.… Then something calm, back in the far marches of mind, reiterated something I hadn’t noticed because I had no reason to expect it. The face in the flames had had only one eye.