She Is The Darkness tbc-8

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by Glen Charles Cook


  “I can’t tell you guys what to do because I don’t know your situation. Try to go up the chain of command, I guess. Find your company commander.”

  They explained that their whole company had been sent in to clear the area of snipers. In the fog those snipers had no trouble telling who their enemies were. Everybody who was not them, a luxury the Taglians did not enjoy. The rest of the company was out there in the fog somewhere. “The fire get started on purpose?”

  “No, sir. Some guys got excited and used their bamboo. Then we just kind of kept it going.”

  “Why didn’t you burn the buildings and roast the snipers out?”

  “Orders. These here buildings are all in good shape. The Prince wanted to set up a headquarters here.”

  “I see.” Maybe more than the Taglian realized.

  The Prahbrindrah Drah already had a headquarters. It was in a better neighborhood boasting much better living conditions.

  “Nobody told me,” I said. “I’ll tell you this. Don’t get yourselves killed trying to save a pile of rocks and timber. If the little shits snipe at you, burn them out.” Anywhere in the Annals that city fighting is mentioned one lesson stands out. That one lesson was bitterly reinforced by my own experience in Dejagore. If you worry even a little about preserving property, the guys on the other side will eat you up. When you are in a fight you do not worry about anything but getting your enemy before he gets you.

  Missiles kept coming out of the fog. They did no damage but did advise us that the snipers had a good idea where we were.

  Given my encouragement the Prince’s troops went off to commit wholesale arson. I chuckled. “I’m proud of me, I am, I am.”

  “What must be done must be done,” Thai Dei said, misunderstanding.

  There was no need to tell him that I had just scuttled some plan of the Prahbrindrah Drah’s. “You’ll whistle a different tune if we end up freezing our butts off because these assholes waste the whole damned city.” The remains of Kiaulune were a rich source of firewood, not to mention stone for reinforcing earthworks. Fires began to spread. I felt giddy. Is this what power does to you?

  I stayed around, directing those men and other leaderless types who accumulated. The snipers were stubborn about not getting caught. Fires became more numerous.

  The weather turned colder as evening arrived. Rain came. It turned to sleet and freezing rain that coated everything with crystal. The fog thinned. As visibility improved I discovered that the fires were more widespread than I had thought. Out of control and spreading, they soon yielded enough heat to turn the sleet back to rain.

  Smoke began to replace the fog. I told Thai Dei, “We’re going to have to start hauling firewood all the way from the mountains.” I sent word out not to start any more fires. It did not do much good.

  The soldiers were so jumpy they kept plinking at each other with the bamboo poles.

  Mogaba would get a good laugh out of this one.

  Full night arrived. I had been having too much fun. I did not want to be down in Kiaulune after nightfall. The dancing firelight only made me more nervous. What a time for the Shadowmaster to loose his pets.

  “Did you see that?” I demanded.

  “What?” Thai Dei sounded righteously baffled.

  “Can’t swear to it. My eyes aren’t what they used to be. But...” But I did not need to tell Thai Dei I thought I had seen Uncle Doj flickering through the tricky light as though he was a shadow himself. A troll-like figure had been right behind him. Mother Gota.

  Interesting. Very interesting.

  “Let’s go for a walk.” I headed the direction my in-laws were going. Thai Dei followed. Of course. “Thai Dei. What do you really know about Uncle Doj? What moves him? Where is he going?”

  Thai Dei responded with one of his all purpose, neutral grunts.

  “Talk to me, dammit! I’m family.”

  “You are Black Company.”

  “Damned straight. So what?”

  Another grunt.

  “I admit I ain’t brown enough, short enough, skinny enough, ugly enough or dumb enough to be a genuine swamp-loving master race Nyueng Bao De Duang, but I did just fine as Sarie’s husband.” I overcame the impulse to throw him up against a handy ruin and slap the pigshit out of him till he explained what they thought they were doing, stealing my wife and pretending she was dead.

  In recent days I had found I could not help rubbing Thai Dei’s nose in Nyueng Bao racism.

  “He is a priest,” Thai Dei confessed, after considerable reflection.

  “Oh! You surprised me there, brother. Pretend that I’m not stupid. Not jengal.” Which is a Nyueng Bao word meaning something like “congenitally deformed, brain-defective foreigner.”

  “He is a repository of old things, brother. Of old thoughts and old ways. We were a different people from a different land, once upon a time. Today we live where and how we must but among us are those who preserve ancient skills and customs and knowledge. As Annalist of the Black Company you should be able to understand that mission.” Maybe.

  Accumulated precipitation had filled the streets with slush. It was only inches deep but it recalled the water-filled streets of another city in another time. This is a nightmare, I told myself. This is a torment from Kina, maybe. The smell is here but this is not Dejagore. Here we will not eat rats and pigeons and crows. Here no one will indulge in dark rituals requiring human sacrifice.

  I studied Thai Dei. He, too, seemed to be remembering when. I said, “At least it was warmer than this.”

  “I remember that, brother. I remember everything.” Meaning he recalled why so many men of such a proud race had attached themselves to the Black Company in almost subservient positions.

  “I want you to remember those days always, Thai Dei. We were trapped in hell but we survived it. I learned there. Hell no longer has any surprises for me, nor any secrets from me.” A bit of veiled criticism and an exposure of the bedrock philosophy that continues to get me through.

  I have been to hell. I have done my time. This dark goddess Kina could not throw anything at me worse than the things I had seen already with my own eyes.

  I scurried around but never caught another glimpse of Uncle Doj. If that was him that I saw. Thai Dei and I stayed in the streets, spreading encouragement while trying to forget our holiday in hell.

  The little shit would not give up another word about Uncle Doj.

  51

  Croaker was not pleased. “I don’t want you pulling a stunt like that again, Murgen. There was no reason for you to put yourself at risk like that.”

  “I found out the Prince is up to something.”

  “Great big old hairy-assed deal. We knew that. Had to be.”

  “I saw Uncle Doj sneaking around down there, too.”

  “So?”

  “You’re always worried about my in-laws.”

  “Not as much anymore.”

  His tone alerted me that, once again, he knew something he was not going to share. Or he had an angle he meant to keep completely secret. “What happened?”

  “We reached a milestone. And no one noticed. Which puts us at a hell of an advantage.”

  “And you’re not going to tell me?”

  “Not a word. A little birdie might hear.”

  “Why were you visiting the bird lady?” I made a habit of asking like he used to ask me about Uncle Doj. He was not pleased.

  He offered no answer. “You have a job to do. Two jobs, in fact. Stick to those. If I lose you I’ve got nothing left but One-Eye.” He eyed me hard.

  “Wouldn’t that be awful.”

  He caught my sarcasm. “When will Sleepy be ready? I haven’t seen him around.”

  “Neither have I.” I did not lie, did I? “I’ve been mapping the inside of Overlook.” Which I had, whenever there were no other demands on my time. I had not put much effort into following up on the people I was supposed to watch. “You know how deep into the earth its basements go?”

 
; “No. And neither do the crows.”

  He was probably wrong about that. Soulcatcher had been a prisoner in Overlook’s deeps, once upon a time. But the point got through. Our days of paranoia were far from over.

  “Gotcha. Think I’ll go for a walk.”

  I found One-Eye seated across the fire from Mother Gota. They were not talking but them just tolerating each other was an epic amazement.

  Was the little wizard trying to sell her on Goblin? He did have that sneaky look, like he was up to something really villainous.

  I went on to One-Eye’s dugout. My tagalong sat down beside his mom. She dished him up some nasty imitation Nyueng Bao chow. He ate in silence.

  I slipped through the ragged blankets into One-Eye’s den. It stank in there. I do not know who he thought he was fooling. There was no mistaking the smell of the mash. The results would taste as bad as that mess smelled. He put in anything he thought would ferment.

  Smoke lay sprawled on a cot. One-Eye had gotten Loftus and his brothers to make it. The comatose wizard had the best bed in the province. I settled into the chair beside it, wondering if it would be possible to manage without him entirely.

  I would experiment later, I decided. At the moment reliability was important.

  I had to get him out of that hole, though. As soon as I could sneak him over to Croaker’s. Who would shit a brick.

  I went after Sleepy first. I found him still waiting at Banh Do Trang’s city place. I followed Trang into the swamp. The old man appeared troubled. I could not tell why. In present time he was still far from the temple where Sahra was getting bigger by the minute.

  It was scarcely a week since I had seen her yet she seemed to have swollen dramatically. I recalled the jokes the grown-ups had cracked about pregnant women when I was a kid. They did not seem that funny now.

  I wanted to be there even though I knew my presence would be valueless. Babies get born every day with no help from their fathers and, everywhere I have ever been, no help wanted. At birthing time women stood united and wanted no men around.

  Once again I found a time when Sahra would be alone, then tried to materialize in front of her. My luck held. It was bad again. I managed only to frighten her thoroughly.

  “You’ll know soon,” I tried to say, but managed only to scare the swallows in the thatch overhead.

  I could be patient. This game was all in my hands now. Uncle Doj and Mother Gota did not have a clue that I knew.

  I went to check up on the Radisha Drah.

  At a glance I had to say she regretted sending Cordy Mather off to check up on us bad boys. She was a cranky old witch without her playtoy.

  People noticed, too. Not a good thing, with priests always looking for an angle.

  More work for me, keeping an eye on them. Have to talk it over with Croaker, see if he wanted to make a project of it.

  I saw nothing else of interest in Taglios. The victory at Charandaprash was general knowledge now. People of all castes and religions, rich and poor, supporters of the Black Company or its enemies, apparently took it for granted that Overlook would come next, easily. I found no fear of the Shadowmaster anywhere I looked.

  Looked like Taglios was headed for peacetime and its good old back-stabbing ways—perhaps prematurely.

  I moved back south, tracing Cordy Mather.

  Mather must have been disgruntled. He had not taken his assignment to heart. He and his companions had not yet reached Charandaprash. I did not take time to explore but they seemed to be waiting for good weather. And nobody was any more eager than Mather to get to the fighting.

  They thought the war was won, too. Why go over there where people were still killing each other? A guy could get hurt! Not to mention the cold, the primitive living conditions, the lack of entertainment and gourmet cuisine...

  I came back over to the cold and bloody side of the Dandha Presh, zoomed around looking for signs of Mogaba, Goblin, the forvalaka, Soulcatcher. Smoke could not, or would not, find any of them, though Catcher’s general location could be determined by the density of crows.

  She had not moved from where I had spied her meeting with the Old Man.

  Smoke would approach the Shadowgate no more closely than ever before.

  Damn! Almost the entire strength of what Croaker called his Old Division was established now in the gullies and rocky slopes of the ground between Overlook and the Shadowgate, astride the road south to Khatovar. Some of those fools, posted up close to the Shadowgate, kept sniping at what they thought they saw on the other side. A few fireballs always drifted through the chill air.

  I wondered if the Old Man knew they were doing that. I wondered if it was a bright idea. It might take only one badly aimed fireball to cause the collapse of the gate.

  I went back into Overlook. It was always an adventure ambling through that fortress’s dark corridors. As frightened as Longshadow was of shadows you would think that he would keep the whole inside brightly lit. I suppose he realized that was impossible and was satisfied to live in his crystal chamber and surround himself with intense light only when he had to move around. He chose not to go out very often.

  The Howler, Narayan and the Daughter of Night had free run of the place. They were not afraid of its dark corners. They never ran into anything scary. The child had grown contemptuous of Longshadow’s fears.

  Neither she nor Narayan had witnessed all that could be done by the Shadowmaster’s pets.

  Neither had we, I feared.

  Lady had established a factory for replenishing spent bamboo poles. She had been confident that we would need them. I was afraid she was right.

  Stone shudders. Eternity sneers while it devours its own tail. This cold feast is almost finished.

  Even death is restless.

  The walls are bleeding.

  In the darkness of the grey fortress it is hard to distinguish but dribbles of cardinal venous blood have begun to leak from the cracks between stones. It glistens in the light rising from the abyss. Small shadows squabble around it hungrily.

  One crow watches.

  The mist from the abyss has begun to fill the fortress. Half the tilting throne is covered. The throne is tilting precariously now. It looks like the figure there would slide away into the mist if it were not pinned in place.

  The throne slips another millionth of an inch. A groan rises from the tortured figure. Its blind eyes flutter.

  One crow cackles.

  There is no silence. Stone is broken.

  Where there is even a crack life will take root.

  Light will find a way in.

  52

  I told the Old Man about the troops shooting over the Shadowgate. He scowled blackly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He bellowed for a courier. He sent out a strong suggestion to our brothers with the division to the south. “No crows around here,” I noted.

  “One-Eye custom-built me a spell I can use to make them get hungry and go away for a while. But not forever.”

  I got the hint. “I don’t think we’re doing enough to support Lady’s men inside Overlook.”

  Croaker shrugged. “I’m not concerned about Overlook anymore. Much.”

  “What? Not worried about Longshadow? Howler? Narayan Singh and your... the Daughter of Night?”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not indifferent. They just don’t matter as much as they did.”

  “I must’ve missed something. What’re you saying?”

  “I’m just suggesting it, Murgen. But we could go on south now. If we wanted. If I’m right about the standard.”

  “Uh...” I said. No flies on me.

  “The standard has to be the key to the Shadowgate. I think we could walk right through and keep on going, without any danger, as long as we carry the standard.”

  “Uh...” I said again, but this time I had a few more thoughts. “You mean we could just get everybody together, say screw you to the rest of this mob, and trot off singing merry marching songs?”

 
“Exactly. Maybe.” So he was not completely sure.

  “Wouldn’t that leave a lot unsettled? Not to mention risk opening the Shadowgate the wrong way?”

  “Longshadow is the master of the Shadowgate. He can keep it sealed.”

  “What if he can’t?”

  Croaker shrugged. “We don’t owe anybody... You just got finished telling me the Radisha is still fixing to screw us. The Prahbrindrah Drah was up to something down here. Howler is no friend of ours and Catcher has been helping me only because she thinks that’ll help her get an angle on Lady.”

  “I’ve got a wife out there, Boss. And she’s got a bun in the oven. Not to mention Goblin and his crew. Whom I can’t find, but I’m sure they’re out there somewhere, on some mystery mission from you.”

  “Hmm? Didn’t think about that. There’s no mystery. Goblin’s job is to be forgotten. Then he’s supposed to be in the right place if the Prince runs out on us. Or decides to pull some other stunt where we could use some help that comes from the blind side.”

  I grunted. It might be true. Or it might only be what he wanted me to think. I set it aside. I could answer the question using Smoke if I was determined and clever and felt any real need. I asked, “What about Singh? You just going to walk away from him?”

  I did not believe Lady would accept that. It was hard to tell what was going on inside her head but I did think that no one and nothing would make her walk away while Narayan Singh remained in good health.

  “I’ve been letting things work themselves out. I’ll go on doing that for a while. But when the moment comes I won’t hesitate to take the Company on down the road to Khatovar.” His voice turned cold and hard and confidently formal.

  I was getting angry. That was not good. I told him, “I think I’d better excuse myself now.”

  “Just in time, too.” He flashed a wan smile.

  One of his huge crows had shoved its beak into the room. If it was possible for a bird to look puzzled this one did.

 

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