“Take some time. I’m going to roam around and look it over.”
The site was what I had been told it would be. The road wandered down a long, bare slope to the ford, which lay just above an elbow in the river. Below the elbow a creek ran into the river from my side, though I had to go make sure because it lay behind higher ground. The creek had a beard of the usual growth along both banks. There was also a slight rise in the other direction, so that the road to the ford ran down the center of a slight concavity. Above the ford the river arched southward in a slow, lazy curve. On my side its bank was anywhere from two to eight feet high and overgrown with trees and brush everywhere but at the crossing itself.
I examined all that very carefully, on foot, while my mount waited with Goblin beyond the ridge. I sneaked down to the edge of the ford itself and spent a half hour sitting in the wet bushes staring at the fortifications on the other side.
We were not going to get across here. Not easily.
Were they worried about us coming to them? Why?
I used the old triangulation trick to figure out that the watchtower of the fortress stood about seventy feet high, then withdrew and tried to calculate what could be seen from its parapet. Most of the light was gone when I finished.
“Find out what you need to know?” Goblin asked when I rejoined him.
“I think so. Not what I wanted, either. Unless you can cheer me up. Could we force a crossing?”
“Against what’s in there now? Probably. With the water down. If we tried in the dead of the night and caught them napping.”
“And when the water does go down they’ll have ten thousand men hanging around over there.”
“Don’t look good, does it?”
“No. Let’s find a place to get out of the rain.”
“I can stand to ride back if you can.”
“Let’s try. We’ll sleep dry if we make it. What do you think of the men over there? Professionals?”
“My guess is they’re just a little better than men disguised as soldiers.”
“They looked pretty sloppy to me, too. But maybe they don’t have to be any better in these parts.”
I had seen and watched four men while I was crouching near the ford. They had not impressed me. Neither had the design or construction of the fortifications. Clearly, these Shadowmasters had brought in no professionals to train their forces and they had not developed a good edge on what they did have.
“’Course, maybe we saw what we were supposed to see.”
“There’s always that.” An interesting thought, maybe worth some consideration, because at that moment I noticed a couple of bedraggled crows watching us from a dead branch on an elm tree. I started to look around for
the stump, thought the hell with it. I would handle that when the time came.
“You remember Shifter’s woman, Goblin?” “Yeah. So?”
“You said you thought she seemed familiar back in Gea-Xle. Now it’s all of a sudden coming on me that maybe you were right. I’m sure we ran into her somewhere before. But I can’t for the life of me think where or when.”
“Does it matter?”
“Probably not. Just one of those things that nag at you. Let’s cut off to the left here.” “What the hell for?”
“There’s a town on the map, called Vejagedhya, that I want to look at.”
“I thought we were going back-” “It’ll only take a few minutes extra.” “Right.” Grumble, grumble, ragglesnatz. “Looks like we might have to fight. I need to know the country.”
Fraggin snigglebark.
We ate cold food as we rode. It is not often that I do so, but at such moments I sometimes envy the man with a cottage and wife.
Everything costs something. It was ghost country we rode, spooky country. The hand of man was evident everywhere, even in darkness. Some of the homes we inspected looked like they had been closed up only yesterday. But not once did we encounter another human being. “I’m surprised thieves haven’t been working all this.”
“Don’t tell One-Eye.”
I forced a chuckle. “I guess they were smart enough to take their valuables with them.”
“These people do seem determined to pay whatever price they have to, don’t they?” He sounded impressed. Grudgingly, I was developing a case of respect. “And it looks like the Company is going to be their one toss of the bones with fate.” “If you let them.”
There was the town, Vejagedhya. It might once have been home to as many as a thousand people. Now it was even more spooky than the abandoned farms. Out there, at least, we had encountered wildlife. In the town I saw nothing but a few crows fluttering from roof to roof.
The townsfolk had not locked their doors. We checked maybe two dozen buildings. “It would do for a headquarters,” I told Goblin.
He grunted. After a while, he asked, “You making up your mind?”
“Beginning to look made up for me. Right? But we’ll see what the others have to say.”
We headed north. Goblin did not have much to say after that. That gave me time to dwell on and invent deeper meanings to my roles as Captain and potential warlord.
If there was no choice but to fight, and to lead a nation, I was going to make demands. I was not going to let the Taglians put me in a position where they could second-guess and override my every decision. I had watched my predecessors get half crazy dealing with that. If the Taglians hooked me, I was going to hook them right back.
We might call it something prettier, but by damn I was going to be a military dictator.
Me. Croaker. The itinerant military physician and amateur historian. Able to indulge in all the abuses I’d damned in princes for so long. It was a sobering notion.
If we bought it, and took the commission, and I got what I would demand, I might have Wheezer follow me around and remind me that I’m mortal. He wasn’t good for much else.
The rain let up as we were riding into town.
Now I knew the gods loved me.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Smoke’s hideout
Smoke was perched on a tall stool, bent over a huge old book. The room was filled with books. It looked like a wave of books had swept in and left tidal pools behind. Not only were there shelves dripping books, there were books stacked hip-high on the floor, books on tables and chairs, even books piled on the sill of the room’s one small, high window. Smoke read by the light of a single candle. The room was sealed so tight the smoke had begun to irritate his nose and eyes.
From time to time he grunted, made a note on a piece of paper to his left. He was left-handed.
In all the Palace that room was the best protected from spying eyes. Smoke had woven webs and walls of spells to secure it. No one was supposed to know about it. It did not show on any plan of the Palace.
Smoke felt something touch the outermost of the protective spells, something as light as a mosquito’s weight as it lands. Before he could swing his attention to it it was gone and he was not sure he had not imagined it. Since the incident of the crows and bats he had been almost paranoid.
Intuition told him he had reason. There were forces at work that were way beyond him. His best weapon was the fact that no one knew he existed.
He hoped.
He was a very frightened man these days. Terror lurked in every shadow.
He jumped and squeaked when the door opened.
“Smoke?”
“You startled me, Radisha.”
“Where are they, Smoke? There’s been no word from Swan. Have they gotten away?”
“Leaving most of their people behind? Radisha, be patient.”
“I have no patience left. Even my brother is becoming unsettled. We have only weeks left before the rivers fall.”
“I’m aware of that, madam. Concentrate on what you can do, not what you wish you could do. Every force possible is being bent upon them. But we cannot compel them to help.”
The Radisha kicked over a pile of books. “I’ve never felt
so powerless. I don’t like the feeling.”
Smoke shrugged. “Welcome to the world where the rest of us live.”
In a high corner of the room a point no bigger than a pinprick oozed something like a black smoke. The smoke slowly filled out the shape of a small crow. “What are the rest of them doing?”
“Making preparations for war. In case.”
“I wonder. That black officer. Mogaba. Could he be the real captain?”
“No. Why?”
“He’s doing the things I want them to do. He’s acting like they’re going to serve us.”
“It makes sense, Radisha. If their captain comes back convinced they can’t sneak away, they’ll be that much farther ahead.”
“Has he made preparations to run back north?”
“Of course.”
The Radisha looked vexed.
Smoke smiled. “Have you considered being forthright with them?”
She gave him a look to chill the bones.
“I thought not. Not the way of princes. Too simple. Too direct. Too logical. Too honest.”
“You grow too daring, Smoke.”
“Perhaps I do. Though as I recall my mandate from your brother is to remind you occasionally-”
“Enough.”
“They are what they pretend to be, you know. Wholly
ignorant of their past.”
“I’m aware of that. It makes no difference. They could become what they were if we let them. Sooner bend the knee to the Shadowmasters than endure that again.”
Smoke shrugged. “As you will. Maybe.” He smiled slyly. “And as the Shadowmasters will, perhaps.”
“You know something?”
“I am constrained by my need to remain unnoticed, But I’ve been able to catch glimpses of our northern friends. They have fallen afoul of more of our little friends from the river. Ferocious things are happening down near the Main.”
“Sorcery?”
“High magnitude. Recalling that which manifested during their passage through the pirate swamps. I no longer dare intrude.”
“Damn! Damn-damn-damn! Are they all right? Have
we lost them?”
“I no longer dare intrude. Time will tell.”
The Radisha kicked another pile of books. Smoke’s bland expression cracked, became one of intense irritation. She apologized. “It’s frustration.”
“We’re all frustrated. Perhaps you would be less so if you adjusted your ambitions.”
“What do you mean?”
“Perhaps if you followed the course your brother has charted and aimed to climb but one mountain at a
time-” “Bah! Am I, a woman, the only rooster around here?”
“You, a woman, will not be required to pay the price of failure. That will come out of your brother’s purse.”
“Damn you, Smoke! Why are you always right?”
“That is my commission. Go to your brother. Talk. Recalculate. Concentrate on the enemy of the moment. The Shadowmasters must be turned now. The priests will be here forever. Unless you want shut of them badly enough to let the Shadowmasters win, of course.”
“If I could frame just one High Priest for treason ... All right. I know. The Shadowmasters have shown they know what to do with clerics. Nobody would believe it. I’m going. If you dare, find out what’s happening down there. If we’ve lost them we’ll have to move quickly. That damned Swan had to go after them, didn’t he?”
“You sent him.”
“Why does everybody do what I tell them? Some of the things I say are stupid... Get that grin off your face.”
Smoke failed. “Kick over another stack of books.”
The Radisha huffed out of the room.
Smoke sighed. Then he returned to his reading. The book’s author lingered lovingly over impalements and flayings and tortures visited on a generation unlucky enough to have lived when the Free Companies of Khatovar marched out of that strange corner of the world that spawned them.
The books in that room had been confiscated so they would not fall into the hands of the Black Company. Smoke did not believe their being there would keep secrets forever. But maybe long enough for him to find a way to prevent the sort of bloodshed that had occurred in olden times. Maybe.
The best hope, though, lay in the probability that the Company had mutated with time. That it was not wearing a mask. That it had indeed forgotten its grim origins and its search for its past was more a reflex than the determined return that other Companies, come back earlier, had made.
In the back of Smoke’s mind, always, was the temptation to take his own advice, to bring the Company’s captain in and turn him loose on the books, if only to see how he responded to the truth.
Chapter Thirty
Taglios aroused
We approached Taglios with the dawn, days late, all of us at the brink of collapse, Swan and his buddies maybe worse off than the rest. Their mundane mounts were wiped out. I asked Swan, “You figure the Prahbrindrah will be overly pissed because I didn’t keep my appointment?”
Swan still had a little pepper left. “What the hell can he do? Put a bug down your shirt? He’ll swallow it and smile. You worry about the Woman. She’s the one who’ll give you trouble. If anybody does. She don’t always think right.”
“Priests,” Blade said.
“Yeah. Watch out for the priests. They sprung this whole thing on them the day you guys landed. They couldn’t do anything but go along. But they been thinking about it, you can bet your butt, and when they find them an angle they’re going to start messing.”
“What’s Blade’s thing with priests?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to know. But I been down here long enough to start thinking he’s maybe right. The world might be better off if we drowned some of them.”
One thing that made the military situation wonderfully impossible was the absence of fortifications. Taglios itself sprawled everywhere, without a thought to defense.
A people with centuries of pacifism behind them. An enemy with experienced armies and high-power sorcerers to support them. And me with maybe a month to figure out how to help the former whip the latter.
Impossible. When those rivers went down so troops could cross the massacre would be on.
Swan asked, “You make up your mind what you’re going to do?”
“Yeah. The Prahbrindrah isn’t going to like it, either.”
That surprised him. I did not explain. Let them worry. I took my bunch in to the barracks and sent Swan off to announce our return. As we dismounted, with half the Company hanging around waiting to hear something, Murgen said, “I guess Goblin’s made up his mind.”
Something had been preying on the little wizard. He had been broody and curt all the way home. Now he was grinning. He gave special attention to his saddlebags.
Mogaba joined me. “We’ve made major progress while you were gone, Captain. I’ll report when you feel up to it.” His question remained unspoken.
I saw no need to leave it hanging. “We can’t sneak through. They’ve got us. It’s fight or turn back.”
“Then there is no option, is there?”
“I guess there never was. But I had to see for myself.”
He nodded his understanding.
Before business I tended wounds. Lady was coming back fast. Her bruises, though, did nothing to make her more attractive. I felt odd examining her. She had had little to say since our night in the rain. She was doing a lot of thinking again.
Mogaba had a lot to tell me about discussions with Taglios’s religious leaders and his ideas for putting together the pretense of an army. I could find nothing in his suggestions I disapproved. He said, “There’s one other thing. A priest named Jahamaraj Jah, number two man in the Shadar cult. He has a daughter he thinks is dying. It looks like a chance to make a friend.”
“Or get somebody thoroughly pissed.” Never underestimate the power of human ingratitude.
“One-Eye saw her.”
/> I looked at the little witch doctor. He said, “Looked like her appendix to me, Croaker. Not that far gone yet, either. But these clowns around here don’t have the foggiest. They’re trying to exorcise demons.”
“I haven’t opened anybody up in years. How long before it bursts?”
“Another day at least, unless she’s unlucky. I did what I could for the pain.”
“I’ll check it on the way back from the Palace. Make me a map... No. You’d better tag along. You might be useful.” Mogaba and I were getting dressed for a court appearance now. Lady was supposed to be doing the same.
Swan, not at all improved in appearance, showed up to take us to the Prince. I did not feel like doing anything but take a nap. I sure did not feel up to the games of politicians. But I went.
The people of Trogo Taglios had heard that the moment of decision had come. They were in the streets to watch us. They remained eerily silent.
I saw dread in all those watching eyes, but hope, too. They were aware of the risks, and maybe even of the odds against them. A pity they did not realize that a battlefield is not a wrestling ring.
Once a child cried. I shivered, hoping it was not an omen. As we neared the Trogo an old man stepped out of the crowd and pressed something into my hand. He bowed himself away.
It was a Company badge from olden times. An officer’s badge, perhaps booty from some forgotten battle. I fixed it near the badge I wore already, the fire-breathing death’s-head of Soulcatcher, which we had retained though we no longer served the Taken or the empire.
Lady and I had outfitted ourselves in our finest, meaning I wore my legate’s duds and she her imperial rig. We impressed the mob. Beside us Mogaba looked drab. One-Eye looked like a derelict scraped off the bottom of the worst dive in the worst slum. That damned hat. He was as happy as a snail.
“Showmanship,” Lady had told me. An old maxim of my own, albeit directed somewhat differently. “In politics and battle our big weapon will have to be showmanship.”
She was coming to life. I think those brown guys pissed her off.
She was right. Showmanship and craft, even more than traditionally, would have to be our tools. If we were to meet and beat the veteran armies commanded by the Shadowmasters we would have to gain our triumphs inside the imaginations of enemy soldiers. It takes ages to create a force with the self-confidence to go slug it out despite the odds.
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