Dreams of Steel

by Glen Cook

  Now Smoke knew who they were.

  He controlled himself but his mind went wild. His efforts to maintain his anonymity had gone for naught. The Shadowmasters knew him.

  Maybe Swan was right. Maybe he was just a coward... He was. He had known that always. But he was no puling craven. He could manage his fear if he had to.

  Still... It rankled that Swan could be right about anything. Willow Swan was an animal that walked on its hind legs and made noises like a man.

  “The Year of the Skulls?” he asked. “What do you mean?”

  The man smiled thinly. “It will save time if we don’t pretend. You know Kina is stirring. And when she stirs, ripples go out and waken other things best left undisturbed. The first whisper of Kina passes over the world. Soon the woman who is her avatar will become aware of what she is.”

  “Do you think me simple?” Smoke demanded. “Do you believe I can be weaned from my loyalty so easily? Do you believe an appeal to my fears will subvert me?”

  “No. Subversion is not the point. He who sent me is to you as you are to a mouse. He is afraid. He has cast the bones of time. He has seen what may be. That woman can bring on the true Year of the Skulls. What she was once she can become again, filled with the breath of Kina. Before that terror all else pales. The contention of armies becomes the squabbling of children. But he who sent me has no power to reach out where the danger abides. She has surrounded herself with Kina’s Children. She grows stronger by the hour. And he who sent me must remain where he is, holding back the tide of darkness that laps at Shadowcatch. He can do nothing but register his appeal for help and offer his friendship, which you may test as you will and call upon as you see fit.”

  A scheme. A tortuous scheme, surely. But he dared not reject it out of hand. There was sorcery in this place. He hadn’t time to take its measure. If he turned them down flatly he might not get out alive.

  “Which Shadowmaster do you call lord?” He thought he knew. The man had mentioned Shadowcatch.

  The brown man smiled. “You call him Longshadow. He has other names.”

  Longshadow, master of Shadowcatch. The Shadowmaster whose demesne was farthest from Taglios, who was the least known of the four, rumored to be insane. He hadn’t been much involved in the attacks upon Taglios.

  The foreigner said, “He who sent me has not been involved in this war. He opposed it from the beginning. He has refused to participate. There are more pressing dangers, more deadly concerns, which preoccupy him.”

  “Men much like you have attacked Taglians several times.”

  “Stipulated. On the river. In the southern Taglian territories. Can you guess the common denominator, wizard?”

  “The woman.”

  “The woman. Kina’s fulcrum. He who sent me cast the bones of time. And as she becomes a greater danger he becomes more pressed elsewhere, less able to fight. He needs allies. He is desperate with fear. He will give more than he takes. The weed of doom has taken root in Taglios and he can do so little. It must be expunged by Taglians.”

  “There’s a war on. Taglians didn’t initiate it.”

  “Neither did he. But that war can be ended. He has that power. Of the three who wanted war, two are dead. Stormshadow and Moonshadow are gone. Shadowspinner lingers. He controls their combined armies but he is injured. He can be compelled to accept peace. He can be expunged, if that is the price of peace. Peace can be restored. Taglios can be as it was before the madness began. But he who sent me will not invest resources in making these things come true if there is nothing to be gained by letting some of his attention be diverted.”

  “From what?”

  “Glittering stone. Khatovar. You are no unlettered peasant. You have read the ancients. You know the Shadar Khadi is but a pale shade of Kina, though Khadi’s priests deny it. You know Khatovar, in the old tongue, means Khadi’s Throne and is supposed to be the place where Khadi fell to earth. He who sent me believes the legend of Khatovar is an echo of an older, truer tale of Kina.”

  Smoke controlled his emotions and fears. He forced a smile. “You’ve given me a great deal to digest. A veritable feast.”

  “Only a first course. Truly, he who sent me is desperate. He needs a friend, an ally, who has influence here, who has some chance to cut the weed before it flowers. He will do what he has to do to demonstrate his good faith. He has told me to tell you he will even bring you to him so you can judge his honesty for yourself if that is your wish. If you are able to feel safe doing so. He’ll agree to whatever safeguards you feel you need if you wish to speak to him directly.”

  “A lot to digest,” Smoke said again, just wanting to get out of there before somebody turned vicious.

  “I expect so. Enough to overturn your world. And more to come. And you have been gone a long time now. We wouldn’t want your absence to become an object of concern. Go. Think. Make decisions.”

  “How should I get in touch?”

  The brown man smiled. “We will find you. We will move from this place after you leave, lest you suffer some shortsighted inspiration to make yourself a hero. A bat will find you when it is time. Place yourself where you cannot be watched and these others will meet you.”

  “All right. You’re right. I’d better get back.” He eased toward the door, still not sure where he stood. But no one interfered with his departure.

  He had a lot to mull over. And the interview had been productive if for no other reason than that it proved the Shadowmasters had put new agents into the city after the Black Company’s wizards rooted out those that had been there before.

  The little brown man who spoke bad Taglian asked his leader, “Will he take the bait?”

  The leader shrugged. “The appeal was broad enough to touch him somewhere. His fears. His ego. His ambitions. He’s been handed the chance to destroy what he fears and hates. He’s been offered the chance to make himself big as a peacemaker. He’s been offered the opportunity to fatten his own power with potent friends. If he has any need to become a traitor we’ve touched it.”

  The man smiled. His companions did, too. Then all eight began packing. The leader was sure the wizard’s conscience would move him to report this initial approach.

  He hoped the wizard would not take long seducing himself. The Shadowmaster was concerned about wasting time. He was not pleasant when he was worried.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The Radisha had only a day’s start on us. Though a thousand men should find it harder to stop and start than a smaller party, we gained ground. Narayan had supplied us with the most efficient and motivated men. We were only two hours behind when the Radisha reached the city.

  I marched in boldly, trophies displayed, and went straight to the barracks the Company had used when we were training the legions. The barracks were occupied by men we had left behind, men who had been injured in the battle at the Ghoja ford, and men who had volunteered after our departure. Most were commuting from their homes for daytime self-training but the barracks were still crowded. Enrollment exceeded four thousand.

  “Get them under control,” I told Narayan as soon as I grasped the situation. “Make them ours. Isolate them as much as possible. Work on them.” Bold words, but how practical?

  “Word of our arrival is spreading,” he said. “The whole city will know soon.”

  “No avoiding it. I’ve been thinking. Between them the men ought to have some notion what happened to almost everybody who didn’t come home. A lot of Taglians will want to know what happened to their men. We could make a few friends telling them.”

  “We’d be swamped.” He was forgetting to offer an honorific more and more often. He thought he was a partner in my enterprise.

  “Maybe. But let it out that we welcome inquiries. And push news that a lot of Taglians are trapped in Dejagore and I could get them out if I could get a little help.”

  Narayan looked at me oddly. “No chance, Mistress. Those men are dead. Even if they’re still breathing.”

  �
�We know it. But the world doesn’t. Anybody asks, to get them put we just put together enough men and arms quick enough. That will fix anybody who wants to interfere with me. Someone opens his mouth, he says he doesn’t care about those men. Blade says the people here all think their priests are thieves. They might get real upset if the priests start playing with their sons’ and brothers’ and husbands’ lives. We take advantage of religious friction. If a Gunni priest gets on me, we just appeal to the Shadar and Vehdna laity. And never stop mentioning that I’m the only professional soldier around.”

  Narayan grinned that repulsive grin. “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”

  “Wasn’t much else to do on the way here. Get moving. We have to take control before anybody wonders if we really ought to. Before troublemakers think up ways to give us grief. Get feelers out to members of your brotherhood. We need information.”

  Narayan had some organizational skills though he was no charismatic leader. He could rise in a small group by demonstrated ability but he’d never get a large gang to follow him just because he cut a bold figure.

  Thinking that made me think of Croaker. Croaker hadn’t been charismatic. He’d been a workaday sort of commander. He’d identified the task to be accomplished, had considered his options, had put the best-suited men to work. He usually guessed right and got the job done. Except for that last time, at Dejagore, when his weakness became obvious.

  He didn’t think fast on his feet. He didn’t intuit well.

  Past tense, woman. He’s gone.

  I didn’t want to think about him. It still hurt too much.

  There was plenty of work to occupy me.

  I began looking at the manpower resources that had fallen into my lap.

  Not promising. Plenty of spear carriers, determined young men, but hardly anyone who stood out as an immediate leader. Damn, I missed the military engine I’d had back home.

  I started wondering what I was doing here, why I had come. Pointless, woman. I could not go back. That empire had moved on. It had no place for me now.

  I missed more than my armies. I had no intelligence machine. No way to ferret out secrets.

  Ram remained my shadow, as much as he could. Determined to protect me, Ram was. Probably under the most dire orders of jamadar Narayan. “Ram, do you know the country around Taglios?”

  “No, Mistress. I never went out till I enlisted.”

  “I need men who do know. Find them, please.”

  “Mistress?”

  “This place is indefensible. Most of the men are drilling out of their homes.” Why was I explaining? “We need to get away from distractions and vulnerabilities.” Ideally on a hill near the south road, water, and a large wood.

  “I’ll ask around, Mistress.” He was reluctant to leave me but no longer had to be ordered away. He was learning. Give him another year.

  Narayan materialized before Ram returned. “It’s going all right. A lot of excitement. The men who were there-there must be at least six hundred of them now-are telling inflated stories about how we beat those cavalrymen. There’s talk about relieving Dejagore before the rainy season. I didn’t have to start it.”

  During the rainy season the Main became impassable. For five or six months it was Taglios’ wall against the Shadowmasters. And theirs against Taglios.

  What would happen if I got caught south of the river when the rains came? That would give me time to get the army whipped into shape.

  On the other hand, it would not leave me anywhere to run.

  “Narayan, get me...”

  “Mistress?”

  “I forget you haven’t been with me forever. I was going to send you after something we compiled before we went south.”

  One of our great enterprises had been a census of men, materials, animals, skills, and other resources an army needs. The results should be around somewhere still.

  There was a way around the high water dilemma if the right men and materials were available.

  “Mistress?” Narayan asked again.

  “Sorry. Just wondering what I’m doing here. I have these moments.”

  He took me literally. He started in on revenge and rebuilding the Company.

  “I know, Narayan. It’s just fatigue.”

  “Rest, then. You’ll have to be at your best later.”

  “Oh?”

  “Those who want to know about their men are gathering already. Surely the news of our arrival has reached all the false priests and even the palace. Men will come to see how they can take advantage of you.”

  “You’re right.”

  Ram returned with a half dozen men and some maps. None were men who had come north with me. They were nervous. They showed me three sites they thought might suit my purpose. I dismissed one immediately. It had a hamlet there already. Neither of the others had much to recommend it either way. Which meant I had to go look for myself.

  Something to kill time.

  I was getting as sarky as Croaker in my old age.

  I thanked everybody and sent them away. A few minutes’ rest would be useful. Like Narayan said, the siege would begin soon. We might have problems with men who could not wait to see their loved ones.

  I dragged my things into the quarters I had occupied last time, one small room I refused to share. I plopped on the cot. It had not changed while I was gone. Still a rock within a mask of linen.

  I’d just relax for a few minutes.

  Hours fled. I dreamed. I was confused when Narayan wakened me. He came while I was visiting the caverns of the ancients. The voice calling me was louder, clearer, more insistent, more pressed.

  I got hold of myself. “What is it?”

  “The crowds of relatives. I was having them visit the gate one by one, but they’ve started pushing and shoving. There must be four thousand people out there and more arriving all the time.”

  “It’s dark. Why did you let me sleep?”

  “You needed it. It’s raining, too. That may be a blessing.”

  “It’ll keep some people home.” But this would cost time however we handled it. “There’s a public square where we paraded before we went south. I don’t recall the name. Find out. Tell those people to assemble there. Tell the men to prepare for a short march in the weather. Tell Ram to ready my armor but forget the helmet.”

  There were five thousand people in the square. I managed to intimidate them into keeping quiet. I faced them on my stallion, looking at a sea of lamps and lanterns and torches while the soldiers formed up behind me.

  I said, “You have a right to know what happened to your loved ones. But the soldiers and I have a great work before us yet. If you’ll cooperate we’ll handle this quickly. If you don’t remain orderly we’ll never get it done.” My Taglian had improved dramatically. No one had trouble understanding me.

  “When I point you out name the man you want to know about in a clear, loud voice. If one of the soldiers knew him he’ll speak up. Go to that soldier. Talk quickly and quietly. If the news is bad, contain yourself. There are others who want news, too. They have to be able to hear.”

  I doubted it would go smoothly for long but it was just a gesture meant to get me mentioned kindly outside the corridors of power.

  It worked well for longer than I expected, but Taglians are pliable people, used to doing what they’re told. When disorder did develop I just announced that we would leave if it did not stop.

  Some of my men were the objects of queries. I had Narayan moving through the formation. Those he knew were industrious, cooperative, hard-working, and loyal he could grant a short leave. He was supposed to remind the less diligent why they would remain on duty. Carrot and stick.

  It held up. Even the greenest behaved. It took all night but we satisfied half the crowd. I reminded everyone frequently that Mogaba’s legion and who knew how many more men were trapped in Dejagore, thanks to the desertion of Jahamaraj Jah. I made it sound like everyone not accounted for was among the besieged.

  Mos
t were probably dead.

  Whips and carrots and emotional manipulations. I’d been at it so long I could do it in my sleep.

  A messenger came. There were priests at the barracks to see me. “Took them long enough,” I muttered. Were they late because they were off balance or because they waited till they were ready for a confrontation? No matter. They would wait till we finished.

  The rain stopped. It was never much more than a drizzling nuisance.

  Once we cleared the square I dismounted and walked with Narayan. We were seventy fewer now. He had let that many go. I asked, “Did you notice the bats?”

  “A few, Mistress.” He was puzzled.

  “Are they special among the omens of Kina?”

  “I don’t think so. But I was never a priest.”

  “They’re significant to me.”

  “Eh?”

  “They tell me, plain as a shout, that the Shadowmasters have spies here. General order to the men. Kill all bats. If they can, find out where they’re roosting. Watch out for foreigners. Pass the word to the populace, too. There are spies among us again and I want to lay hands on a few.”

  We’d probably end up swamped with useless reports about harmless people, but... A few wouldn’t be harmless. And those needed their teeth pulled.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The men waiting included delegations from all three religious hierarchies. They were not pleased that I had kept them waiting. I did not apologize. I was not in a good humor and did not mind a confrontation.

  They’d had to wait in the mess hall because there was nowhere else to put them. Even there they had to crowd up because they had to get out of the way of men who had nowhere else to spread their blankets.

  Before I went in I told Narayan, “First score to my credit. They came to me.”

  “Probably because none of them want you making a private deal with the others.”

  “Probably.” I put on my best scowl, laid on a light glamor, clanked into the mess hall. “Good morning. I’m honored but I’m also pressed for time. If you have something to discuss please get to the point. I’m an hour behind schedule and didn’t budget time for socializing.”