Warlock

by Glen Cook

  If he was what she believed, and reported the contents of her letter to his factors, there should be a move made in an effort to show nothing so simple would frighten them off. Or to make it appear the Brown Paw Bond really had no control over the rogue group.

  She hoped.

  Her planted teams kept themselves concealed from those who worked and dwelt in and around the potential targets. Marika herself shifted to a nighttime schedule, remaining aloft on the trainer darkship she had made her own.

  The rogues waited four days. Then they walked into it. It could not have gone better for Marika had she been giving the villains their orders.

  Three were slain and two captured in an action so swift no shots were fired. Marika lifted the captives out quietly and carried them to the cloister aboard her darkship.

  One of those two managed to poison himself. The other faced a truthsaying.

  He yielded names and addresses.

  Marika threw teams out aboard every darkship the cloister possessed, ignoring all protests, invoking the most senior where she had to. By dawn seven more prisoners had been brought into the cloister. Five lived long enough to be questioned.

  A second wave of raids found several rogues forewarned or vanished completely. This time there was some fighting. Few rogues were taken alive.

  Even Marika was surprised at how many rogues Maksche boasted.

  The third wave of raids took no prisoners at all. Few rogues were found. But weapons and explosives enough for an arsenal were captured, along with documentary evidence of rogue connections in TelleRai and most cities where the Reugge maintained cloisters.

  Marika had the captured arms laid out upon the cloister square. The dead rogues joined them.

  “Very good, Marika,” Gradwohl said as she and the Maksche councillors inspected the take. “Very impressive. You were right. We were too passive, and even I underestimated the scale and scope of what was happening. No one could see this and remain convinced that we are dealing with the usual scatter of malcontents. I will order all the Reugge cloisters to —”

  “Excuse me for interrupting, mistress. It would be too late for that. The rogues will have vanished everywhere. Posting rewards might help a few places, if they are large enough. A point that I have to make, over and over till everyone understands, is that for all their broad antisilth sentiments, and all that the evidence shows them established almost everywhere, these rogues are attacking nobody but the Reugge.”

  “Noted,” Gradwohl replied. “And right again. Yes, Marika. The Serke are behind them somewhere, though the rogues themselves would not know that.”

  “They did not when we questioned them.”

  “Where did they go? Those who disappeared?”

  Marika felt certain the most senior knew the answer she was about to give — and did not want to hear it. “Mistress?”

  “You did not collect two thirds of those you identified. I know this. So where did they go?” Gradwohl seemed resigned to a great unpleasantness.

  “Into the tradermale enclave, mistress. I had the gate watched. As a sort of experiment. Inbound traffic grew rapidly after we began raiding. It peaked before our third round. Almost no one came out.”

  “So they are safe from retribution. Accursed —”

  “Safe? Mistress? Are you certain? What are the legalities? Is there no mechanism for extracting fugitives from convention territories?”

  “We shall see.” Gradwohl flung a curt gesture at the rest of the council. “Come.”

  “If there is no mechanism, I will make one,” Marika said softly.

  The most senior gave her a narrow look. “I believe you would, pup.” A few paces later, “Take care, Marika. Take care. Sometimes this world will show a toughness that is different from that of the Ponath. Sometimes losing can be the better path to winning.”

  “You didn’t let me know you were coming,” Bagnel complained. “How come you’re back already? You usually stall around.” He looked abashed. He also looked as if he was under a strain.

  “Official business this time.” Marika glanced at the clipboard she carried, though she knew the names and numbers by heart. She turned it so he could see the list. “These meth, all fugitives from the law, were seen entering this gate yesterday.”

  His lips peeled back in an unconscious snarl, and she knew the cause of the strain that had him so edgy.

  “I have brought the orders necessary for their removal from the enclave. They have a future in the mines.”

  “There must be some mistake.”

  “None whatsoever, Bagnel. Each of these meth has been convicted in court, on evidence presented by confederates. Sentence has been passed. Each was seen entering here. Would you like photographs of them doing so? I will have to send to the cloister for them.” She ran a spur-of-the-moment, inspired bluff with that remark. Photo surveillance had occurred to her only in retrospect.

  “Holding the job you do, by now you have heard about the ruckus in town. I presume your staff were involved in this behind your back.” Give him a ready-made excuse. “The males on this list fled here. They are here still. No airships have left the enclave. You have two hours to deliver them to Grauel and Barlog. If you do not, you will be considered in violation of the conventions and your charter.”

  Bagnel looked aghast.

  Grauel and Barlog waited outside with a dozen armed huntresses.

  “Marika...” Bagnel’s tone was plaintive. “Marika, that sounds like a threat.”

  “No. Here I have a copy of the charter negotiated before your brethren assumed control of this enclave. I have added a map for your personal information.”

  Bagnel examined the map first. “I do not understand.” He couched his speech in the formal mode.

  “You will note that it shows your enclave surrounded entirely by land belonging directly to the Reugge Community. At the time they assumed control, the Brown Paw Bond had no aircraft. Now they do. You must know that the conventions say that no aircraft of any sort may be flown over silth lands without direct permission of the sisterhood involved.”

  “Yes, but —”

  “The Brown Paw Bond have never obtained that permission for the Maksche enclave, Bagnel. They have never applied. The enclave is in violation of the conventions. Overflights will cease immediately. Otherwise sanctions will be applied.”

  “Sanctions? Marika, what in the world is going on here?”

  “Any aircraft or airship attempting to leave this enclave will be destroyed. Come.” She led him to the doorway, showed him three darkships slowly circling the enclave.

  Bagnel opened and closed his mouth several times, said nothing.

  Marika presented a fat envelope. “This contains a formal notice of the Reugge Community’s intent to cancel all Brown Paw Bond charters that now exist within Reugge territories.”

  “Marika...” Bagnel began to get hold of himself. “These fugitives. You really want them that badly?”

  “Not really. Not personally. It would not matter now if you did sneak them out. They are dead. Bounties have been posted on them — very large bounties. As you once noted, the Reugge are a very wealthy Community. No. What is at stake is a principle. And, of course, my future.”

  Bagnel looked puzzled. She had come at him hard, from unexpected directions, and had managed to keep him off balance.

  “I have reached a position of substance within my sisterhood, Bagnel. I am very young for it. My age alone has made me many foes. Therefore I have to consolidate my position and fashion a springboard to a greater future. I have chosen to do that in my usual way, by taking the offensive against enemies of the Community. My opponents inside the sisterhood are unable to fault that.” A pause for effect. “Those who get in my way can expect the worst.”

  “You intend to climb over me?”

  “If you get in my way.”

  “Marika, I am your friend.”

  “Bagnel, I value you as a friend. I have treasured your friendship. Often you we
re the only one I could turn to.”

  “And now you are so strong you do not need me anymore?”

  “Now I am so strong I do not need to blind myself to what you are doing. Nor was I ever so weak as to allow crimes to be committed simply because a friend was involved.”

  “Involved?”

  “Drop the act, Bagnel. You know the brethren are backing the Serke effort to steal the Ponath from us. You know the brethren have been sponsoring the terrorism practiced by disaffected males. It is another ploy against us. You use criminals now that there are no more nomads to be your proxies. You even flew in males from outside because Maksche did not produce enough villains of its own. Now, is that something I should ignore simply because one of the behind-scenes movers is a friend?”

  “You are mad, Marika.”

  “You will stop. Cease. Give me my prisoners and do nothing more. Or I will see the Brown Paw Bond torn apart like an otec rent by kagbeasts.”

  “You are totally insane. They have given you a taste of power and it has gone to your head. You begin imagining nonexistent plots.”

  “Phoo! Think, Bagnel. I struck near the mark, yes? Insofar as you know? Naturally, you have not been trusted with full knowledge. You deal with me. You traffic with silth. Can they trust you? When they hoard knowledge the way old Wise females hoard metal in the Ponath? You recall my great triumph up there, so called? Did you know that nomads had very little to do with it? Did you know that what I defeated was actually an invasion carried out by Serke and armed brethren, with a few hundred nomads along for show? If you do not know these things, then you have been used worse than I suspect.”

  Almost out of pity she stopped hitting him. She could see that he was hearing much of this for the first time. That, indeed, he had been used. That he did not want to believe, yet his faith was being terribly tested.

  “Enough of that. Friend. When you report to your factors, as inevitably you must before you dare yield the criminals I want, tell them for me that I can produce thirteen burned-out ground-effect vehicles, with their cargoes and the corpses of their drivers and passengers, anytime I feel inclined to assemble delegates from the various Communities.”

  Bagnel composed his features, but could not help staring.

  “You do not have to believe me, Bagnel. Just tell them what I said. Nice word, ‘driver.’ It is from the brethren secret speech, is it not? Not everyone aboard those vehicles died in the ambush.”

  “What is this madness you’re yammering?”

  He was innocent of guilty knowledge, she was now sure. A tool of his factors. But he had heard so many wild rumors that she now had him on the edge of typical male panic. Composed as he kept his face, his eyes glittered with fear. His hackles had risen and his head had dropped against his shoulders. She wanted to reach out to him, to touch him, to reassure him. To tell him she did not hold him personally responsible. She could not. There were witnesses. Any softening would be perceived as weakness by those who were not here and did not know them.

  “The message will register once you pass it along, Bagnel. Tell them the price of silence is their desertion of the Serke. Tell them they can tell the Serke that if they want to do us in, henceforth they must come at us directly, without help.”

  He began to understand. At least, to understand what she wanted him to understand. He whispered, “Marika. As a friend. Not as Bagnel the tradermale or Bagnel the security chief of this enclave. Don’t push this. You’ll get rolled under. I know nothing of the things you have talked about. I do know that you cannot withstand the forces that are ranged against the Reugge. If you really have the sort of evidence you claim, and I report it, they will kill you.”

  “I suspect they’ll be reluctant to try, Bagnel.” She spoke in a whisper herself, and pointed to one of the circling darkships, to make those watching think she was talking about her threats. “Their force commander in the Ponath was the Serke number four. Stronger than anyone but Bestrei herself. She’s dead. And I’m here.”

  “There are other ways to kill.”

  Marika rested a paw upon the butt of her rifle. “And I know them. They may have their way with the Reugge. But they will pay in blood. And pay and pay and pay. We have just started fighting, Gradwohl and I.”

  “Marika, please. You’re too young to be so ruled by ambition.”

  “There are things I want to do with my life, Bagnel. This struggle with the Serke is a distraction. This scramble is something I want to get over early. If I sound confident of the Reugge, that’s because I am. In the parlance of your brethren, I believe the hammer is in my paw. I’d rather you and your silth allies just went away and left us alone. I’d rather not fight. But I am ready to bring on the fire if that is the way they want it. You may tell them that we Reugge believe we have very little to lose. And more to gain than they can imagine.”

  Bagnel sighed. “You always were headstrong and deaf to advice. I will tell my factors what you’ve said. I’ll be very much interested in their response myself.”

  “I’m sure you will. As you walk over there, keep one eye on the darkships up top. Keep in mind that they have orders to kill anyone who tries to leave the enclave. You can shoot them down if you like. But I don’t think even the Serke will tolerate that.”

  “I hope you know what you’re doing, Marika. I really do. I think, though, that you don’t. I think you have made some grave and erroneous accusations, and based serious miscalculations upon them. I fear for you.”

  She was making a long bet, setting the price of protecting the rogues so high the brethren factors would have no choice but to surrender them. A success would cement her standing within the Community.

  She did not care if the silth liked her, so long as they respected and feared her.

  “I intend to be very careful, Bagnel. I give these things more thought than you credit me for. Go. Grauel and Barlog will be waiting here at the gate.” She walked through the building beside him, halted at the door to the airstrip, counted silently while he walked fifteen steps. “Bagnel!”

  “What?” he squeaked as he whirled.

  “Why is the Ponath worth risking the very existence of the brethren?”

  An instant of panic betrayed him. If he did not know, he had firmly founded suspicions. Perhaps because the tradermales of Critza had been involved from the beginning?

  “The plan is for the brethren to betray the Serke after they take over, isn’t it? The brethren think they have some way to force the Serke out without a struggle.”

  “Marika...”

  “I questioned some of the drivers who were with the Serke invaders, Bagnel. What they didn’t know was as interesting as what they did.”

  “Marika, you know very well I do not know what you are howling about. Tell me. Does Most Senior Gradwohl know what you are doing here?”

  “The most senior has ambitions greater than mine.”

  That was not a direct answer, but Bagnel nodded and resumed walking, his step tentative. He glanced at the circling darkships only once. His head lowered against his shoulders again.

  She had rattled him badly, Marika knew. Right now he was questioning everything he knew and believed about his bond. She regretted having had to use him so harshly. He was a friend.

  Given her victory, the day would come when things would balance.

  When she returned to the street outside the enclave, Grauel asked, “Are they going to cooperate?”

  “I think they will. You can put anything over on anybody if you sound tough enough and confident enough.”

  “And if they are guilty as charged?”

  “That will help a lot.”

  Barlog looked at one of the darkships. “Did you really order...?”

  “Yes. I could not run the bluff without being willing to play part of it out. They might test me.”

  Barlog winced, but said nothing.

  II

  Grauel received the rogue prisoners within the deadline. “But nine of them were given over
dead, Marika,” she reported.

  “I expected that. They resisted being turned over, did they?”

  “That is what Bagnel told me.”

  “Want to bet the dead ones could have connected the brethren of the enclave with their movement?”

  “No bet. They had to get their weapons and explosives somewhere. Bagnel slipped me a letter, Marika. A personal communication, he said.”

  “He did?” She was surprised. After what she had put him through? “Let’s see what he has to say.”

  Bagnel said much in few words. He apologized for his brethren having betrayed the conventions. He had not believed her at the gate, but now he had no choice. He was ashamed. As his personal act of contrition, he appended two remarks. “Petroleum in the Zhotak. Pitchblende in the western Ponath.”

  Petroleum she understood instantly. She had to go to references to make sense of the other.

  She hurried to Gradwohl’s quarters. “My cultivating the male Bagnel has finally paid a dividend, mistress,” she reported. She did not mention the brethren yielding the criminals. Gradwohl’s meth would have reported all that already. “He has told me what is so important about our northern provinces.”

  “You broke him down? How? I had begun to think him as stubborn as you.”

  “I shamed him. I showed him how his factors had been making a fool of him, using him in schemes he would not have touched had they asked him directly. But no matter. He has turned over the rogues, and he has given me the reason behind all the years of terror.

  “Petroleum and pitchblende. Our natural resources. Considering what they were willing to risk, the deposits must be huge.”

  “Petroleum I understand.” It was a scarce commodity, very much in demand in the more advanced technological zones farther south. “But what is pitchblende? I have never heard of it.”

  “I had to look it up myself,” Marika admitted. “It is a radioactive ore. A source of the rare heavy elements radium and uranium. There is very little data available in our resources, but there is at least the implication that the heavy elements could become an energy source far more potent than petroleum or other fossil fuels. The brethren already use radioactives as power sources in some of their satellites.”