Bleak Seasons

by Glen Cook

  “What?”

  “That we got two sets. Each one only half the real thing.”

  A crow nearby cackled.

  I asked, “What kind of sorcery would do that? Split them in two?”

  “I wish I could tell you something you want to hear, Kid. But I’ve got a very bad feeling there’s stuff going on we don’t even want to know about.”

  46

  One-Eye was a prophet. Although I did want to know. And thanks to the Nyueng Bao I heard a story.

  The light across town faded. The attendant racket subsided. Part of that drifted toward the hills. The rest fell back toward Mogaba’s part of town.

  The crackle of small sorceries rippled across the plain. The whole expanse glistened silver. “That was a strange one. One-Eye, what say we build a watchtower on top of one of the enfilading towers? That way we could get high enough to see what Mogaba and Spinner are doing.”

  “You got Nyueng Bao to spy for you over there.”

  “Suppose I don’t ask you to do any work yourself?”

  “The idea sounds a lot better already. But I still think the Nyueng Bao could be your eyes, you play it right. You don’t need to get as paranoid as Croaker. Just look at what they bring you so you see whose purpose it might serve. Consider what might be missing the same way.”

  “Sometimes I’m as lazy as you are,” I told One-Eye. “Only with me it’s mental. That sounds like a lot of thinking. And I’d rather see stuff with my own eyes anyway.”

  “Just like the Old Man,” he grumbled. “You got to read them Annals all the time, how about you read some that was written by somebody besides Croaker? I was looking forward to a little relief from his righteousness.”

  So we were back to the black-market bread scheme.

  Goblin turned up. “Pretty exciting stuff happening over there.”

  “Yeah? Like what?”

  “I got up on the wall over there. For a while. Mogaba’s guys weren’t worried about getting caught letting me peek. He led this raid in person.”

  “Just tell us about it,” One-Eye grumbled. “You all the time got to flap on about stuff that... Awk!” A huge bug landed in One-Eye’s mouth. Goblin’s smirk hinted that he might have been involved in the insect’s errant navigation.

  “That Doj character can tell you more than me. Some of his guys snuck out there behind Mogaba’s gang.”

  “Why?”

  “I think Mogaba was trying to bushwhack Spinner. But he stumbled into Lady instead.”

  “You’re shitting me.”

  “When that bunch of flareballs went up? There she was. Her and about fifteen guys. They were right outside the camp gate, practically crawling over Mogaba’s mob. Least that’s what I heard. I didn’t see it myself.”

  “So where’s Uncle Doj?”

  “Probably checking in with the Speaker.”

  Probably. “Yeah? Look, we’ve got a bunch of deserters from the First. See if some will sneak back to find out more.”

  “Here comes chunky boy now.”

  We talked right in front of Thai Dei, like he was deaf. Or like we didn’t care squat what he heard.

  Uncle Doj brought a couple other Nyueng Bao. They surrounded another chunky boy, this one a wide little Taglian. He seemed more prisoner than companion though no weapons were in evidence.

  It amazed me that Uncle Doj could climb to the ramparts without breathing hard. Maybe he used some wild sorcery that stole Wheezer’s breath.

  That sounded like something out of the Gunni myth book. “What have you got, Uncle?” I stared at the squat Taglian. He was indifferent to my gaze.

  “An outsider. The Speaker sent Banh and Binh to watch the black men, who wanted to attack the Shadowmaster himself. But they ran into others from the outside pursuing a similar goal. This one left his party and joined those running for the wall when the flares went up. The outsider group may have been betrayed intentionally so this one could become separated in the confusion.”

  I continued to study the outsider. He was a Gunni, more stockily built than anyone in these parts. Maybe he worked at that. He seemed possessed of a powerful arrogance.

  I asked, “Is there anything special about him?” Uncle Doj seemed strongly interested in him, too.

  “He bears the mark of Khadi.”

  That took a moment. Oh. Yeah. In the books from the catacombs. Khadi was an alternate or regional name for Kina. There were quite a few of those. “If you say so. I don’t see it myself. Point it out.”

  Uncle Doj’s eyes narrowed. He drew a deep breath, exasperated. “Even now you refuse to reveal yourself, Soldier of Darkness?”

  “Even now I don’t have any fucking idea what you’re raving about. I am tired of hearing it.” I was developing suspicions, though. “Instead of sputtering and fussing and offering cryptic grumbles why don’t you say something I can understand? Pretend I’m what I say I am and can’t call down the lightning to part your hair. Who is this guy? Who do you think I am? Come on, Uncle. Talk to me.”

  “He is a slave of Khadi.” Uncle Doj glared at me, daring me not to understand that. He did not want to be more explicit.

  That made no sense to me. But I am not a superstitious man. Did he believe his one mouth had the power to raise the she-devil alone? “Kina must be one badass bitch,” I told One-Eye. “She’s got Uncle drizzling down his leg. You. You got a name?”

  “I am Sindhu. I am of the staff of the warrior woman you call Lady. I was sent to observe the situation here.” He continued to meet my gaze. His eyes were colder than any lizard’s.

  “Sounds reasonable enough.” If taken with a block of salt. “Lady? This is the Lady who was second in command in the Black Company?”

  “That Lady. The goddess has smiled upon her.”

  I asked Uncle Doj, “Is he a liaison man, then? Between us and Lady?”

  “He may tell you so. But he is a spy for the toog. He will not speak truth when a lie will do.”

  “Uncle, old buddy, you and me and the old man need to sit down and try to talk the same language for a while. What do you think?”

  Uncle Doj grunted. Which could mean anything. “The toog will not speak truth when a lie will do.” Sindhu was amused.

  The man struck me as a complete false face. I said, “Goblin, find this guy some place to sleep.” I shifted languages. “And don’t let him out of your sight.”

  “I have chores enough already.”

  “Somebody’s sight. All right? I don’t like him at all. I don’t think I’m going to like him even this much tomorrow morning. He smells like trouble.”

  One-Eye agreed. “Big trouble.”

  “Why don’t we just chuck his hairy ass off the wall, then?” Goblin can be pragmatic in the extreme.

  “Because I want to find out more about him. I think we’ve crawled right up to the edge of the mystery that has hung us up ever since we got here. Let him run free. We’ll play dumb and keep track of every breath he takes.” I was sure I could count on the Speaker’s help with that.

  My two wizards scowled and grumbled. Hard to blame them. They always end up carrying the load.

  47

  I was snoring heroically down deep in our warrens, having gone to Nod confident I could sleep in. Tomorrow nobody would have the ambition to get up to any mischief.

  I was down there so far and so far out of the way that not five people knew where to find me. I was on a mission to catch up on my sleep. If the end of the world came the guys could celebrate without me.

  Somebody shook me.

  I refused to believe it. It had to be a bad dream.

  “Murgen. Come on. You got to come see this.”

  No I didn’t.

  “Murgen!”

  I cracked an eyelid. “I’m trying to get some sleep here, Bucket. Go away.”

  “You ain’t got time. You got to come see.”

  “I got to come see what?”

  “You’ll see. Come on.”

  There would be no winn
ing this. He would pester me till I lost my temper, then get his feelings hurt. But the long climb to the sunshine was not an inducement to rise.

  “All right. All right.” I got up and got myself together.

  They didn’t need to drag me out but I understood the impulse. Things had changed. Radically.

  I stared at the plain, mouth open. Only, what plain? Dejagore was surrounded by a shallow lake that featured the tops of burial mounds as small islands. Each mound boasted its handful of disconsolate animals. “How deep is it?” I asked. And, “There any chance we can catch some of those critters for the pot?” With all that water down there no southerner would be guarding against sorties.

  “Right now, five feet,” Goblin said. “I had men go down and measure.”

  “Is it still coming up? Where is it coming from? Where is Shadowspinner?”

  Goblin pointed. “I don’t know about Spinner, but there’s the water. Still coming in.”

  I have good eyes. I made out the water boiling and foaming as it roared out of the hills. “The old aqueduct came down there, didn’t it?” Two major canals had irrigated the hill farms and fed aqueducts to Dejagore before the fighting started. The Company cut those when the southerners were on the inside. Now the city survived on rainwater and the contents of large, deep, very stagnant cisterns we knew nothing about back then.

  “Exactly. Clete and his brothers figure they diverted the entire river into the canal. Same thing south of town.”

  Dejagore sits on a plain below the level of the country beyond the hills. Modest rivers run both west and southeast of the hills.

  “I presume the boys are studying the engineering aspects?” I asked.

  “Them and three dozen Taglians who had some skills the guys could use.”

  “Any conclusions yet?”

  “Like?”

  “Like how high will the water get? Are we going to drown?” If that was Shadowspinner’s plan it indicated major changes in his thinking. Before, he wanted Dejagore recovered intact. This seemed a more practical and final answer to his problems, though more destructive of property — which, of course, was more valuable than any number of lives.

  “They’re trying to figure that out right now.”

  I grunted. “I take it Spinner pulled out after Lady left.”

  “No,” One-Eye responded. “They hung around to swim. They don’t get to a lot of beach parties where they come from.”

  “Man’s not as stupid as we thought,” I mused.

  “Huh?”

  “He floods the plain, even if he don’t drown us he locks us up so tight he don’t have to use hardly any men to keep us under control. He can chase Lady all he wants. We can’t help her and she can’t help us. For him it’s better than getting reinforcements out of the Shadowlands. Longshadow’s soldiers couldn’t be trusted behind his back.”

  Thai Dei showed up. He always turned up soon after I came out, which indicated how closely we were being watched.

  Thai Dei was a waste of manpower. He didn’t carry many messages. He didn’t understand any of our languages well enough to be a good spy for the Speaker. But he was always, always just a few steps away.

  There would be a reason. The Speaker would do nothing without consideration. I just did not grasp his view of the world.

  The longer I stared at the flood the more questions I came up with that needed answers soon. Most critical? How high would the water rise? How long would it take to do so? The rate of rise would slow down substantially as each vertical foot required more water volume because of the fall back of the hills, evaporation from the larger surface area, and absorption by more covered soil.

  I told Goblin and One-Eye, “Dig up every educated man in town and give him to the brothers.” I thought about building boats and heightening towers and securing stores. I thought about our vast and wonderful warrens and the likelihood that thousands of manhours would go for naught. I thought about how we would have to prepare ourselves mentally for lots worse if we were going to survive. I thought about Ky Dam and his talk of hard times to come.

  Thai Dei stepped over when nobody else was near. “Grandfather would speak with you. Soon, if possible.” His manners were impeccable. He did not call me Stone Soldier even once.

  The old man must want something badly. “As you wish.” I noticed the outsider Sindhu on the battlements off toward the Western gate. I could feel him watching me. “One-Eye.”

  “What?”

  “You don’t need to bark. If you want to bark I’ll see if I can’t have the Shadowmaster turn you into a dog.”

  One-Eye was startled. “Huh?”

  “You guys keeping an eye on our guest?”

  “Geek and Freak are taking turns. He ain’t done much yet. Wandered around town. Talked to people. Tried visiting with the Taglians, here and over with Mogaba. Ours wouldn’t have anything to do with him. The al-Khul Company ran him off with their swords drawn.”

  “Would anybody talk about him?”

  One-Eye shook his head. “It’s the same old shit. Maybe even worse. You better make it clear him being here wasn’t your idea.”

  Thai Dei, listening, murmured something that sounded cabalistic. He followed with a gesture resembling that meant to avert the evil eye.

  “Hey,” One-Eye said. “Something can bother these guys after all.”

  “I’m going to go listen to their boss talk. You’re in charge, but only because everybody else around here is less trustworthy than you.”

  “Thanks a shitload, Kid. You make a guy feel like he’s on top of the world.”

  “Try to have something left when I get back.”

  48

  The vertigo hit me in the same alleyway as before — just yesterday? I remembered it as the darkness closed in. This was more of a sneaking, gentle, enveloping blackness than the thunderbolts that got me before.

  My thoughts scrambled but I did recall several minimal episodes since the big blackout, just moments when I was out of my head and I came back as soon as somebody said something.

  This one was stronger. Thai Dei’s hands closed on my left bicep. He spoke but his words were sounds that had no meaning. The light faded. My knees went watery. Then there was no sensation at all.

  There was a place that was brighter than day, although it was daytime. Huge mirrors gathered sunlight and splashed it onto one tall, gaunt individual in black. The gaunt man stood upon a windswept parapet high above a darkening land.

  A scream ripped through the air. A dark rectangle slanted toward the tower from high above and far away.

  The gaunt figure fitted a stylized mask to its face. Its breathing increased pace, as though it needed more air to face visitors. Another scream tore the air. The gaunt man muttered, “Someday...!” The ragged flying carpet settled a short distance away. The masked man remained motionless, glaring at every hint of shadow around the device. The wind tugged at his robe.

  Three persons rode the flying carpet. One was a tiny thing bundled in dark, stinking rags crumbling with mildew. He was masked, too, and shook continuously. He could not control the occasional scream. He was the Howler, one of the world’s oldest and most wicked sorcerers. The carpet was his creation. The gaunt man hated him.

  The gaunt man hated everybody. He had little love for himself. He mastered his hatreds for short periods only, entirely through the implacable exercise of will. He had a powerful will as long as he was not threatened physically. The ragball gurgled as it stifled a scream. Howler’s nearest companion was a short, skinny, filthy little man in a ragged loincloth and grubby turban. He was frightened. His name was Narayan Singh, living saint of the Deceiver cult, alive only because of Howler’s intercession.

  Longshadow considered Singh less than a flop of buffalo dung. Nevertheless, he had potential as a tool. The reach of his cult was long and lethal.

  Singh’s opinion of his own new ally was of no supreme elevation, either.

  Beyond Singh was a child, a pretty little thing, tho
ugh filthier than the jamadar. She had huge brown eyes. Eyes like the windows of hell. Eyes that knew all evil of old and would revel in it now and forever more.

  Those eyes troubled even Longshadow.

  They were whirlpools of darkness that pulled, pulled, twisted, hypnotized...

  A sudden, sharp pain in my left knee sent wires of agony searing through my flesh. I groaned. I shook my head. The stink of an alleyway penetrated my awareness. I seemed blind. But my eyes, apparently, were adapted to brilliant sunlight. Hands gripped my left arm, pulling, lifting. My vision began to return.

  I looked up.

  A gaunt face looked back, startling me. I retained a legacy of fear from my vision, though what that had been was fading already. I tried to hang on but the pain in my knee and Thai Dei talking shattered my concentration.

  “I’m all right,” I said. “Just hurt my knee.” I tried to stand. When I took a step the knee almost folded. “I’ll manage, damn it!” I pushed his hands away.

  The vision was gone except for a memory that it had happened.

  Had it been the same with my other blackouts? Were there visions that flew away so thoroughly that I could not recall having had them? Did they have any connection with reality? Vaguely, I recalled seeing lots of familiar faces.

  I would discuss it with Goblin and One-Eye. They ought to know what to make of it. They picked up a little loose change interpreting dreams.

  Thai Dei started gabbling the moment we entered the Speaker’s presence. Ky Dam considered me speculatively, his expression deepening oddly as Thai Dei chattered.

  The old man appeared to be alone when we walked in but as Thai Dei talked and Ky Dam became unusually attentive other Nyueng Bao came out of the shadows to study me. Hong Tray and Ky Gota were the first. The old woman settled by her husband. Ky Dam said, “I hope you do not mind. Sometimes she is able to part the veil of time.”

  Gota said nothing. I suspected that that was unusual.

  The beautiful woman appeared. She got right onto the tea service business. Tea is a big thing with the Nyueng Bao. Did she serve any other function in the family?

  The guy in the shadows wasn’t moaning and groaning today. Had he left us?