Chronicles of the Black Company

by Glen Cook

  I gave up trying to sleep there. I moved in with Goblin and One-Eye. Which shows how much the Taken distressed me. Sharing a room with those two is like living amidst an ongoing riot.

  Raven, as ever, changed not the least and remained mostly forgotten by all but his loyal Case. Silent did look in occasionally, on Darling’s behalf, but without enthusiasm.

  Only then did I realize that Silent felt more toward Darling than loyalty and protectiveness, and he was without means of expressing those feelings. Silence was enforced upon him by more than a vow.

  I could not learn which sisters were twins. As I anticipated, Tracker found nothing in the genealogies. A miracle he found what he did, the way sorcerers cover their backtrails.

  Goblin and One-Eye tried hypnotizing him, hoping to plumb his ancient memories. It was like stalking ghosts in a heavy fog.

  The Taken moved to stall the Great Tragic. Ice collected along the western bank, turning the force of the current. But they overtinkered and a gorge developed. It threatened to raise the river level. A two-day effort won us maybe ten hours.

  Occasionally large tracks appeared around the Barrowland, soon vanished beneath drifting snow. Though the skies cleared, the air grew colder. The snow neither melted nor crusted. The Taken engineered that. A wind from the east stirred the snow continuously.

  Case stopped by to tell me, “The Lady wants you, sir. Right away.”

  I broke off playing three-handed Tonk with Goblin and One-Eye. So far had things slowed—except the flow of time. There was nothing more we could do.

  “Sir,” said Case as we stepped out of hearing of the others, “be careful.”

  “Uhm?”

  “She’s in a dark mood.”

  “Thanks.” I dallied. My own mood was dark enough. It did not need to feed on hers.

  Her quarters had been refurnished. Carpets had been brought in. Hangings covered the walls. A settee of sorts stood before the fireplace, where a fire burned with a comforting crackle. The atmosphere seemed calculated. Home as we dream it to be rather than as it is.

  She was seated on the couch. “Come sit with me,” she said, without glancing back to see who had come in. I started to take one of the chairs. “No. Here, by me.” So I settled on the couch.

  “What is it?”

  Her eyes were fixed on something far away. Her face said she was in pain. “I have decided.”

  “Yes?” I waited nervously, not sure what she meant, less sure I belonged there.

  “The choices have narrowed down. I can surrender and become another of the Taken.”

  That was a less dire penalty than I had expected. “Or?”

  “Or I can fight. A battle that can’t be won. Or won only in its losing.”

  “If you can’t win, why fight?” I would not have asked that of one of the Company. With my own I would have known the answer.

  Hers was not ours. “Because the outcome can be shaped. I can’t win. But I can decide who does.”

  “Or at least make sure it isn’t him?”

  A slow nod.

  Her bleak mood began to make sense. I have seen it on the battlefield, with men about to undertake a task likely to be fatal but which must be hazarded so others will not perish.

  To cover my reaction, I slipped off the couch and added three small logs to the fire. But for our moods it would have been nice there in the crispy heat, watching the dancing flames.

  We did that for a while. I sensed that I was not expected to talk.

  “It begins at sunup,” she said at last.

  “What?”

  “The final conflict. Laugh at me, Croaker. I’m going to try to kill a shadow. With no hope of surviving myself.”

  Laugh? Never. Admire. Respect. My enemy still, in the end unable to extinguish that last spark of light and so die in yet another way.

  All this while she sat there primly, hands folded in her lap. She stared into the fire as if certain that eventually it would reveal the answer to some mystery. She began to shiver.

  This woman for whom death held such devouring terror had chosen death over surrender.

  What did that do for my confidence? Nothing good. Nothing good at all. I might have felt better had I seen the picture she did. But she did not talk about it.

  In a very, very soft, tentative voice, she asked, “Croaker? Will you hold me?”

  What? I didn’t say it, but I sure as hell thought it.

  I didn’t say anything. Clumsily, uncertainly, I did as she asked.

  She began crying on my shoulder, softly, quietly, shaking like a captive baby rabbit.

  It was a long time before she said anything. I did not presume.

  “No one has done this since I was a baby. My nurse. …”

  Another long silence.

  “I’ve never had a friend.”

  Another long gap.

  “I’m scared, Croaker. And alone.”

  “No. We’ll all be with you.”

  “Not for the same reasons.” She fell silent for good then. I held her a long time. The fire burned down and its light faded from the room. Outside, the wind began to howl.

  When I finally thought she had fallen asleep, and started to disengage myself, she clung more tightly, so I stilled and continued to hold her, though half the muscles in my body ached.

  Eventually she peeled herself away, rose, built up the fire. I sat. She stood behind me a while, staring at the flames. Then she rested a hand on my shoulder a moment. In a faraway voice she said, “Good night.”

  She went into another room. I sat for ten or fifteen minutes before putting on a last log and shuffling back into the real world.

  I must have worn an odd look. Neither Goblin nor One-Eye aggravated me. I rolled into my bedroll, back to them, but did not fall asleep for a long time.

  Opening Rounds

  I wakened startled. The null! I had been out of it so much it disturbed me by its presence. I rolled out hurriedly, discovered I was alone in the room. Not only there, but in the barracks, practically. There were a few Guards in the mess hall.

  The sun was not yet up.

  The wind still howled around the building. There was a marked chill in the air, though the fires were burning high. I shoveled boiled oats in and wondered what I was missing.

  The Lady entered as I finished. “There you are. I thought I’d have to leave without you.”

  Whatever her problems the night before, she was brisk and confident and ready for business now.

  The null faded while I got my coat. I dropped by my own room momentarily. The Limper was there still. I left frowning thoughtfully.

  Into the carpet. Full crew today. Every carpet was fully crewed and armed. But I was more interested in the absence of snow between town and the Barrowland.

  That howling wind had blown it away.

  We went up as it became light enough to see. The Lady took the carpet up till the Barrowland resembled a map taking shape as shadows vaporized. She set us to cruising in a tight circle. The wind, I noted, had faded.

  The Great Barrow looked ready to collapse into the river.

  “One hundred hours,” she said, as though divining my thoughts. So we were reduced to counting hours.

  I looked around the horizon. There. “The comet.”

  “They can’t see it from the ground. But tonight … it’ll have to cloud up.”

  Below, tiny figures scurried around one quarter of the cleared area. The Lady unrolled a map similar to Bomanz’s.

  “Raven,” I said.

  “Today. If we’re lucky.”

  “What’re they doing down there?”

  “Surveying.”

  More than that was happening. The Guards were out in full battle regalia, forming an arc around the Barrowland. Light siege machines were being assembled. But some men were, indeed, surveying and setting up rows of lances flying colored pennons. I did not ask why. She would not explain.

  A dozen windwhales hovered to the east, beyond the river. I had tho
ught them long departed.

  The sky there burned with dawn’s conflagration.

  “First test,” the Lady said. “A feeble monster.” She frowned in concentration. Our carpet began to glow.

  A white horse and white rider came from the town. Darling. Accompanied by Silent and the Lieutenant. Darling rode into an aisle marked by pennons. She halted beside the last.

  The earth erupted. Something that might have been first cousin to Toadkiller Dog, and even more closely related to an octopus, burst into the light. It raced over the Barrowland, toward the river, away from the null.

  Darling galloped toward town.

  Wizards’ fury rained from the carpets. The monster was a cinder in seconds. “One,” the Lady said. Below, men began another aisle of pennons.

  And so it went, slowly and deliberately, all the day long. Most of the Dominator’s creatures broke for the river. The few that charged the other way encountered a barricade of missile fire before succumbing to the Taken.

  “Is there time to eliminate them all?” I asked as the sun was setting. I had been itchy for hours, sitting in one place.

  “More than enough. But it won’t stay this easy.”

  I probed, but she would not expand upon what she had said.

  It looked slick to me. Just pick them off and keep picking them off, and go for the big guy when they were all gone. Tough he might be, but what could he do enveloped in the null?

  When I staggered into the barracks, to my room, I found the Limper still at work. The Taken need less rest than we mortals, but he had to be on the edge of collapse. What the hell was he doing?

  Then there was Bomanz. He had not appeared today. What was he trying to slip up his sleeve?

  I was eating a supper very much like breakfast when Silent materialized. He settled opposite me, clutching a bowl of mush as if it were an alms bowl. He looked pale.

  “How was it for Darling?” I asked.

  He signed, “She almost enjoyed it. She took chances she should not have. One of those things almost got to her. Otto was hurt fending it off.”

  “He need me?”

  “One-Eye managed.”

  “What’re you doing here?”

  “It is the night to bring Raven out.”

  “Oh.” Again I had forgotten Raven. How could I number myself among his friends when I seemed so indifferent to his fate?

  Silent followed me to where I was staying with One-Eye and Goblin. Those two joined us shortly. They were subdued. They had been assigned major roles in the recovery of our old friend.

  I worried more about Silent, The shadow had passed over him. He was fighting it. Would he be strong enough to win?

  Part of him did not want Raven rescued.

  Part of me did not, either.

  A very tired Lady came to ask, “Will you participate in this?”

  I shook my head. “I’d just get in the way. Let me know when it’s done.”

  She gave me a hard look, then shrugged and went away.

  Very late a feeble One-Eye wakened me. I bolted up. “Well?”

  “We managed. I don’t know how well. But he’s back.”

  “How was it?”

  “Rough.” He crawled into his bedroll. Goblin was in his already, snoring. Silent had come with them. He was against the wall, wrapped in a borrowed blanket, cutting logs. By the time I wakened fully One-Eye was sawing with the rest.

  In Raven’s room there was nothing to see but Raven snoring and Case looking worried. The crowd had cleared out, leaving a ripe stench behind.

  “He seem all right?” I asked.

  Case shrugged. “I’m no doctor.”

  “I am. Let me look him over.”

  Pulse strong enough. Breathing a little fast for a sleeper, but not disturbingly so. Pupils dilated. Muscles tense. Sweaty. “Don’t look like much to worry about. Keep feeding him broth. And get hold of me as soon as he’s talking. Don’t let him get up. His muscles will be clay. He might hurt himself.”

  Case nodded and nodded.

  I returned to my bedroll, lay there a long time alternately wondering about Raven and about the Limper. A lamp still burned in my former quarters. The last of the old Taken still pursued his monomaniacal quest.

  Raven became the greater worry. He was going to demand an accounting of our care for Darling. And I was in a mood to challenge his right.

  Time Fading

  Dawn comes early when you wish it would not. The hours flash when you want them to drag. The following day was another of executions. The only thing unusual was that the Limper came out to watch. He seemed satisfied we were doing things right. He returned to my quarters—where he sacked out in my bed.

  My evening check on Raven showed little change. Case reported that he had come near wakening several times and was mumbling in his sleep.

  “Keep pouring soup down him. And don’t be afraid to yell if you need me.”

  I could not sleep. I tried roaming the barracks, but near silence reigned. A few sleepless Guards haunted the mess hall. They fell silent at my arrival. I thought about going over to Blue Willy. But I would find no better reception there. I was on everybody’s list.

  It could do nothing but get worse.

  I knew what the Lady meant about lonely.

  I wished I had the nerve to visit her now that I needed a hug.

  I returned to my bedroll.

  I did fall asleep this time; they had to threaten mayhem to get me up.

  We polished off the last of the Dominator’s pets before noon. The Lady ordered a holiday for the remainder of the day. Come next morning we were to rehearse for the big show. She guessed we had about forty-eight hours before the river opened the tomb. Time to rest, time to practice, and ample time to get in the first whack.

  That afternoon Limper went out and flew around a while. He was in high spirits. I seized the opportunity to visit my quarters and poke around, but all I could find were a few black wood shavings and a hint of silver dust, and barely enough of either to leave traces. He had cleaned up hastily. I did not touch. No telling what curiosities might occur if I did. Otherwise, I learned nothing.

  The practice for the Event was tense. Everyone turned out, including Limper and Bomanz, who had kept so low most everyone had forgotten him. The windwhales ranged above the river. Their mantas soared and swooped. Darling charged the Great Barrow down a prepared aisle, stopping just short of far enough. The Taken and Guards stood to their respective weapons.

  It looked good. Looked like it would work. So why was I convinced we were in for big trouble?

  The moment our carpet touched down Case was beside it. “I need your help,” he told me, ignoring the Lady. “He won’t listen to me. He keeps trying to get up. He fell on his face already twice.”

  I glanced at the Lady. She gave me a go-ahead nod.

  Raven was seated on the edge of his bed when I arrived. “I hear you’re being a pain in the ass. What’s the point of pulling your butt out of the Barrowland if you’re going to commit suicide?”

  His gaze rose slowly. He did not appear to recognize me. Oh, damn, I thought. His mind is gone.

  “He talked any, Case?”

  “Some. He don’t always make sense. He don’t realize how long it’s been, I think.”

  “Maybe we should restrain him.”

  “No.”

  Startled, we looked at Raven. He knew me now. “No restraints, Croaker. I’ll behave.” He flopped onto his back, smiling. “How long, Case?”

  “Tell him the story,” I said. “I’m going to go whip up some medicine.”

  I just wanted away from Raven. He looked worse with his soul restored. Cadaverous. Too much a reminder of my mortality. And that was one thing I did not need on my mind more than it was.

  I whipped up a couple potions. One would settle Raven’s shakes. The other would knock him out if he gave Case too much trouble.

  Raven gave me a dark look when I returned. I do not know how far Case had gotten. “Stay off
your high horse,” I told him. “You got no idea what’s happened since Juniper. In fact, not a whole lot since the Battle at Charm. You being the brave and rugged loner hasn’t helped. Drink this. It’s for the shakes.” I gave Case the other mixture with whispered instructions.

  In a voice little above a whisper, Raven asked, “Is it true? Darling and the Lady are going after the Dominator tomorrow? Together?”

  “Yes. Do-or-die time. For everybody.”

  “I want to. …”

  “You’ll stay put. You, too, Case. We don’t want Darling distracted.”

  I had managed to abolish worries about the tangled ramifications inherent in tomorrow’s confrontations. Now they rushed in on me again. The Dominator would not be the end of it. Unless we lost. If he fell, the war with the Lady would resume instantly.

  I wanted to see Darling badly, wanted in on her plans. I dared not go. The Lady was keeping me on the leash. She might interrogate me any time.

  Lonely work. Lonely work.

  Case went on tale-telling. Then Goblin and One-Eye dropped in to tell stories from their perspectives. The Lady even looked in. She beckoned me.

  “Yes?” I asked.

  “Come.”

  I followed her to her quarters.

  Outside, night had fallen. In about eighteen hours the Great Barrow would open of its own accord. Sooner if we followed plan.

  “Sit.”

  I sat. I said, “I’m getting fixated on it. Butterflies the size of horses. Can’t think about anything else.”

  “I know. I considered you as a distraction, but I cared too much.”

  Well, that distracted me.

  “Perhaps one of your potions?”

  I shook my head. “There is no specific for fear in my arsenal. I’ve heard of wizards. …”

  “Those antidotes cost too dearly. We’ll need our wits about us. It won’t go like it did in rehearsal,”

  I raised an eyebrow. She did not expand. I suppose she expected a lot of improvisational behavior from her allies.

  The mess sergeant appeared. His crew rolled in a grand meal they set out on a table brought in special, A last feast for the condemned? After the crowd dispersed, the Lady said, “I ordered the best for everyone. Your friends in town included. Breakfast likewise.” She seemed calm enough. But she was more accustomed to high-risk confrontations. …