The White Rose

by Glen Cook

  Lightning crackled. We passed between two smaller whales. They missed us. The Lady discharged her little ballista. Its bolt struck one of those monsters. What the hell was the point? I wondered. That was not a bee sting to one of them.

  But that quarrel had a wire attached, running off a reel …

  Wham!

  I was blinded momenlarily. My hair crackled. Direct hit from a manta bolt … We’re dead, I Thought.

  The metal cage surrounding us absorbed the lightning’s energy and passed it along the unwinding wire.

  A manta was on our tail, only yards behind. The sergeant ripped off a shaft. It look our pursuer under The wing. The beast began to slide and flutter like a one-winged butterfly.

  “Watch where we’re going!” the Lady yelled. I turned around. A windwhale back rushed toward us. Fledgling mantas scurried in panic. Rebel bowmen threw up a barrage of arrows.

  I hit and yanked every damned lever and pedal, and pissed my pants. Maybe that did it. We scraped the thing’s flank, but did not crash.

  Now the damned carpet began spinning and tumbling. Earth, sky, windwhales swirled around us. In one glimpse, way up, I saw a windwhale’s side explode, saw the monster fold in the middle, raining gobbets of fire. Two more whales trailed smoke … But it was a picture there and gone in a moment. I could find none of it when the carpel again rolled to where I could see the sky.

  We began our plunge from high enough that I had time to calm down. I fiddled with levers and pedals, got some of the wild spin off …

  Then it did not matter. We were out of the null and it was the Lady’s craft again.

  I looked back to see how the sergeant was. He gave me a dirty look, shook his head pityingly.

  The look the Lady gave me was not encouraging either.

  We climbed and moved westward. The Taken assembled, observed the results of their attack.

  Only the one windwhale was destroyed. The other two managed to get under friends who doused them with ballast water. Even so, the survivors were demoralized. They had done the Taken no injury at all.

  Still, they came on.

  This time the Taken dropped to the surface and attacked from below, building speed from several miles away, then curving up through the null. I maneuvered between whales with a more delicate hand but still fell dangerously near the ground.

  “What are we doing this for?” I yelled. We were not attacking; we were just following Whisper and Limper.

  “For the hell of it. For the sheer hell of it. And so you can write about it.”

  “I’ll fake it.”

  She laughed.

  We went high and circled.

  Darling took the whales back down. That second pass slew two more. Down low the Taken could not throw themselves all the way through the null. None but Limper, that is. He played the daredevil. He backed off five miles and built a tremendous velocity before hitting the null.

  He made that pass while the bigs were dropping the last of their pots.

  I’ve never heard Darling called stupid. She did not do the stupid thing this time.

  Despite all the flash and excitement, it was clear that she could, if she wanted, press on to Horse. The Taken had expended most of their munitions. Limper and the bigs were headed back to rearm. The others circled … Horse was Darling’s if she was willing to pay the price.

  She decided it was too dear.

  Wise choice. My guess is, it would have cost her half her force. And windwhales are too rare to give up for a prize so insignificant.

  She turned back.

  The Lady broke away and let her go, though she could have maintained the attacks almost indefinitely.

  We touched down. I scrambled over the side even before the Lady and in a calculated, melodramatic gesture, kissed the ground. She laughed.

  She had had a great time.

  “You let them go.”

  “I made my point.”

  “She’ll shift tactics.”

  “Of course she will. But for the moment the hammer is in my hand. By not using it I’ve told her something. She’ll have thought it over by the time we get there.”

  “I suppose.”

  “You didn’t do badly for a novice. Go get drunk or something. And stay out of Limper’s way.”

  “Yeah.”

  What I did was go to the quarters assigned me and try to stop shaking.

  Chapter Forty-Two: HOMECOMING

  The Lady and I entered the Plain of Fear twelve days after the aerial skirmish near Horse. We traveled on horseback, on second-grade nags, along the old trade trail the denizens of the Plain respect with free passage most of the time. Clad in castoffs, for the trail, the Lady was no longer a beauty. No kick-out-of-bed dog, but no eye-catcher.

  We entered the Plain aware that by a pessimistic estimate, we had about three months before the Great Tragic River opened the Great Barrow.

  The menhirs noted our presence immediately. I sensed them out there, observing. I had to point it out. For this venture the Lady had schooled herself to eschew anything but the most direct and raw sensory input. She would train herself to mortal ways during our ride so she would make no mistake once we reached the Hole.

  The woman has guts.

  I guess anyone willing to play heads-up power games with the Dominator has to have them.

  I ignored the lurking menhirs and concentrated on explaining the ways of the Plain, revealing the thousand little traps that, at the least, might betray the Lady. It was what a man would do on bringing a newcomer to the land. It would not seem unusual.

  Three days into the Plain we narrowly missed being caught in a change storm. She was awed. “What was that?” she asked.

  I explained the best I could. Along with all the speculations. She, of course, had heard it all before. But seeing is believing, as they say.

  Not long after that we came on the first of the coral reefs, which meant we were in the deep Plain, among the great strangenesses. “What name will you use?” I asked. “I better get used to it,”

  “I think Ardath.” She grinned.

  “You have a cruel sense of humor.”

  “Perhaps.”

  I do believe she was having fun at pretending to be ordinary. Like some great lord’s lady slumming. She even took her turns at the cook fire. To my stomach’s despair.

  I wondered what the menhirs made of our relationship. No matter the pretense, there was a brittleness, a formality, that was hard to overcome. And the best we could fake was a partnership, which I am certain they found strange. When did man and woman travel together thus, without sharing bedroll and such?

  The question of pursuing verisimilitude that far never arose. And just as well. My panic, my terror, at the suggestion would have been such that nothing else would have arisen.

  Ten miles from the Hole we breasted a hill and encountered a menhir. It stood beside the way, twenty feet of weird stone, doing nothing. The Lady asked in touristy fashion, “Is that one of the talking stones?”

  “Yep. Hi, rock. I’m home.”

  Old rock didn’t have anything to say. We passed on. When I looked back it was gone.

  Little had changed. As we crested the last ridge, though, we saw a forest of walking trees crowding the creek. A stand of menhirs both living and dead guarded the crossing. The backwards camel-centaurs gamboled among them. Old Father Tree stood by himself, tinkling, though there was not a breath of wind. Up high, a single buzzardlike avian soared against shattered clouds, watching. One or another of its kind had followed us for days. Of a human presence there was no sign. What did Darling do with her army? She could not pack those men into the Hole.

  For a moment I was frightened that I had returned to an untenanted keep. Then, as we splashed across the creek, Elmo and Silent stepped out of the coral.

  I dove off my animal and gathered them into a monster hug. They returned it, and in best Black Company tradition did not ask a single question.

  “Goddamn,” I said. “Goddamn, it’s
good to see you. I heard you guys was wiped out out west somewhere.”

  Elmo looked at the Lady with just the slightest hint of curiosity.

  “Oh. Elmo. Silent. This is Ardath.”

  She smiled. “So pleased to meet you. Croaker has said so much about you.”

  I had not said a word. But she had read the Annals. She dismounted and offered her hand. Each took it, baffled, for only Darling, in their experience, expected treatment as an equal.

  “Well, let’s go down,” I said. “Let’s go down. I’ve got a thousand things to report.”

  “Yeah?” Elmo said. And that said a lot, for he looked up our backtrail as he said it.

  Some people who had gone away with me had not come back.

  “I don’t know. We had half the Taken after us. We got separated. I couldn’t find them again. But I never heard anything about them being captured. Let’s go down. See Darling. I’ve got incredible news. And get me something to eat. We’ve been eating each other’s cooking forever, and she’s a worse cook than I am.”

  “Guck,” Elmo said, and slapped me across the back. “And you lived?”

  “I’m one tough old buzzard, Elmo. You ought to know. Shit, man, I …” I realized I was chattering like a whacko. I grinned.

  Silent signed, “Welcome home, Croaker. Welcome home.”

  “Come,” I told the Lady as we reached the entrance to the Hole, and took her hand. “It’ll seem like the pit till your eyes get used to it. And brace yourself for the smell.”

  Gods, the stench! Gag a maggot.

  All kinds of excitement down below. It faded into studied indifference as we passed, then resumed behind us. Silent led straight to the conference room. Elmo split off to order us up something to eat.

  As we entered I realized that I still held the Lady’s hand. She gave me half a smile, in which there was a hell of a lot of nervousness. Talk about strutting into the dragon’s lair. Bold old Croaker gave her hand a squeeze.

  Darling looked ragged. So did the Lieutenant. A dozen others were there, few of whom I knew. They must have come aboard after the imperials evacuated the perimeter of the Plain.

  Darling hugged me for a long time. So long I became flustered. We are not touchy people, she and I. She finally backed off and gave the Lady a look in which there was a hint of jealousy.

  I signed, “This is Ardath. She will help me translate. She knows the old languages well.”

  Darling nodded. She asked no questions. So much was I trusted.

  The food arrived. Elmo dragged in a table and chairs and shooed out everyone but myself, the Lieutenant, himself, Silent, and the Lady. He might have sent her away, too, but remained unsure of her standing with me.

  We ate, and as we did I related my tale in snatches, when my hands and mouth were not full. There were some rough moments, especially when I told Darling that Raven was alive.

  In retrospect I think it was harder on me than on her. I was afraid she would get all excited and hysterical. She did nothing of the sort.

  First, she flat refused to believe me. And I could understand that, for till he disappeared Raven had been the cornerstone of her universe emotionally. She could not see him not including her in his biggest lie ever just so he could slip away to go poke around the Barrowland. That made no sense to her. Raven never lied to her before.

  Made no sense to me, either. But then, as I have noted before, I suspected there was more in the shadows than anyone was admitting. I sniffed the faintest whiff that maybe Raven was running from instead of to.

  Darling’s denials did not last long. She is not one to disdain truth indefinitely only because it is unpleasant. She handled the pain far better than I anticipated, and that suggested maybe she had had a chance to bleed off some of the worst in the past.

  Still, Raven’s present circumstances did nothing for Darling’s emotional health, already doing poorly after her defeat at Horse. That harbinger of grander defeats to come. Already she suspected she might have to face the imperials without benefit of the information I had been sent to acquire.

  I conjured universal despair when I announced my failure and added, “I have it on high authority that what we sought isn’t in those papers anyway. Though I can’t be sure till Ardath and I finish what we have here.” I did sketch what I learned from Raven’s documents before losing them.

  I did not lie outright. That would not be forgiven later, when the truth came out. As inevitably it must. I just overlooked a few details. I even admitted having been captured, questioned, and imprisoned.

  “What the hell are you doing here, then?” Elmo demanded. “How come you’re even alive?”

  “They turned us loose, Ardath and me. After that business you had near Horse. That was a message. I’m supposed to deliver another.”

  “Such as?”

  “Unless you’re blind and stupid, you’ll have noticed that you’re not under attack. The Lady has ordered all operations against the Rebellion ceased.”

  “Why?”

  “You haven’t been paying attention. Because the Domina-tor is stirring.”

  “Come on, Croaker. We finished that business in Juniper.”

  “I went to the Barrowland. I saw for myself, Lieutenant. That thing is going to break loose. One of its creatures is out already, maybe dogging One-Eye and them. I’m convinced. The Dominator is a step from breaking out, and not half-assed like in Juniper.” I turned to the Lady. “Ardath. What was that I figured? I lost track of how long we’ve been in the Plain. It was about ninety days when we came in.”

  “It took you eight days to get here,” Elmo said.

  I lifted an eyebrow.

  “The menhirs.”

  “Of course. Eight days, then. Away from ninety for a worst-case scenario. Eighty-two days till the Great Barrow opens.” I went into more detail about the Great Tragic River floods.

  The Lieutenant was not convinced. Neither was Elmo. And you cannot blame them. The Lady weaves crafty, intricate plots. And they were sneaky guys who judged others by themselves. I did not proselytize. I was not wholeheartedly born-again myself.

  It was of little consequence whether or not those two believed, anyway. Darling makes the decisions.

  She signed for everyone to leave but me. I asked Elmo to show Ardath around and find her a place to bunk. He looked at me oddly. Like everyone else, he figured I’d brought me home a girlfriend.

  I had trouble keeping a straight face. All those years they have ridden me because of a few romances written when first we entered the Lady’s service. And now I’d brought her home.

  I figured Darling wanted to talk about Raven. I was not wrong, but she surprised me by signing, “She has sent you to propose an alliance, has she not?”

  Quick little devil. “Not exactly. Though in practice it would amount to that.” I went into the details, known and reasoned, of the situation. Signing is not quick work. But Darling remained attentive and patient, not at all distracted by whatever was going on inside her. She took me over the value, or lack thereof, of my document cache. Not once did she ask about Raven. Nor about Ardath, though my friend was on her mind, too.

  She signed, “She is correct in saying that our feud becomes inconsequential if the Dominator rises. My question must be, is the threat genuine or a ploy? We know just how convoluted a scheme she can manage.”

  “I am sure,” I signed in reply. “Because Raven was sure. He had made up his mind before the Lady’s people began to suspect. In fact, as far as I can tell, he developed the evidence that convinced them.”

  “Goblin and One-Eye. Are they safe?” “As far as I know. I never heard of them being captured.” “They should be getting close. Those documents. They are the crux still.”

  “Even if they do not contain the secret of her name, but only that of her husband?” “She wants access?”

  “I would assume so. I was released for some reason, though I cannot say what the reason behind the reason was.” Darling nodded. “So I thought.”
/>
  “Yet I am convinced that she is honest in this. That we must consider the Dominator the more dangerous and immediate peril. It should not be too difficult to anticipate most of the ways she could become treacherous.” “And there is Raven.” Here it comes, I thought. “Yes.” “I will reflect, Croaker.” “There is not much time.”

  “There is all the time in the world, in a way. I will reflect. You and your lady friend translate.”

  I felt I had been dismissed before we got to why she wanted to see me privately. The woman has a face like stone. You can’t tell much about what is going on inside. I moved toward the door slowly.

  “Croaker,” she signed. “Wait.”

  I stopped. This was it.

  “What is she, Croaker?”

  Damn! Ducked around it again. Chills on my part. Guilt. I did not want to lie outright. “Just a woman.”

  “Not a special woman? A special friend?”

  “I guess she is special. In her way.”

  “I see. Ask Silent to come in.”

  Again I went slowly, nodding. But it was not till I actually started to open the door that she beckoned me back.

  In accordance with instructions, I sat. She did not. She paced. She signed, “You think I am cold toward great news. You think ill of me because I am not excited that Raven is alive.”

  “No. I thought it would shock you. That it would cause you great distress.”

  “Shock, no. I am not entirely surprised. Distressed, yes. It opens old wounds and makes them more painful.”

  Puzzled, I watched as she continued to prowl.

  “Our Raven. He never grew up. Fearless as a stone. Utterly without the handicap of a conscience. Tough. Smart. Hard. Fierce. All those things. Yes? Yes. And a coward.”

  “What? How can you? …”

  “He runs away. There were machinations around the Limper which pulled his wife in, years ago. Did he try to discover the truth and work it out? He killed people and ran away with the Black Company to kill more people. He abandoned two babies without a word of good-bye.”

  She was hot now. She was opening the doors on secrets and spilling stuff of which I had seen only the vaguest glimmering reflections. “Do not defend him. I have had the power to investigate, and I did,” she signed.