The Books of the South: Tales of the Black Company (Chronicles of the Black Company)

by Glen Cook

  * * *

  The little brown man who spoke bad Taglian asked his leader, “Will he take the bait?”

  The leader shrugged. “The appeal was broad enough to touch him somewhere. His fears. His ego. His ambitions. He’s been handed the chance to destroy what he fears and hates. He’s been offered the chance to make himself big as a peacemaker. He’s been offered the opportunity to fatten his own power with potent friends. If he has any need to become a traitor we’ve touched it.”

  The man smiled. His companions did, too. Then all eight began packing. The leader was sure the wizard’s conscience would move him to report this initial approach.

  He hoped the wizard would not take long seducing himself. The Shadowmaster was concerned about wasting time. He was not pleasant when he was worried.

  26

  The Radisha had only a day’s start on us. Though a thousand men should find it harder to stop and start than a smaller party, we gained ground. Narayan had supplied us with the most efficient and motivated men. We were only two hours behind when the Radisha reached the city.

  I marched in boldly, trophies displayed, and went straight to the barracks the Company had used when we were training the legions. The barracks were occupied by men we had left behind, men who had been injured in the battle at the Ghoja ford, and men who had volunteered after our departure. Most were commuting from their homes for daytime self-training but the barracks were still crowded. Enrollment exceeded four thousand.

  “Get them under control,” I told Narayan as soon as I grasped the situation. “Make them ours. Isolate them as much as possible. Work on them.” Bold words, but how practical?

  “Word of our arrival is spreading,” he said. “The whole city will know soon.”

  “No avoiding it. I’ve been thinking. Between them the men ought to have some notion what happened to almost everybody who didn’t come home. A lot of Taglians will want to know what happened to their men. We could make a few friends telling them.”

  “We’d be swamped.” He was forgetting to offer an honorific more and more often. He thought he was a partner in my enterprise.

  “Maybe. But let it out that we welcome inquiries. And push news that a lot of Taglians are trapped in Dejagore and I could get them out if I could get a little help.”

  Narayan looked at me oddly. “No chance, Mistress. Those men are dead. Even if they’re still breathing.”

  “We know it. But the world doesn’t. Anybody asks, to get them out we just put together enough men and arms quick enough. That will fix anybody who wants to interfere with me. Someone opens his mouth, he says he doesn’t care about those men. Blade says the people here all think their priests are thieves. They might get real upset if the priests start playing with their sons’ and brothers’ and husbands’ lives. We take advantage of religious friction. If a Gunni priest gets on me, we just appeal to the Shadar and Vehdna laity. And never stop mentioning that I’m the only professional soldier around.”

  Narayan grinned that repulsive grin. “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”

  “Wasn’t much else to do on the way here. Get moving. We have to take control before anybody wonders if we really ought to. Before troublemakers think up ways to give us grief. Get feelers out to members of your brotherhood. We need information.”

  Narayan had some organizational skills though he was no charismatic leader. He could rise in a small group by demonstrated ability but he’d never get a large gang to follow him just because he cut a bold figure.

  Thinking that made me think of Croaker. Croaker hadn’t been charismatic. He’d been a workaday sort of commander. He’d identified the task to be accomplished, had considered his options, had put the best-suited men to work. He usually guessed right and got the job done. Except for that last time, at Dejagore, when his weakness became obvious.

  He didn’t think fast on his feet. He didn’t intuit well.

  Past tense, woman. He’s gone.

  I didn’t want to think about him. It still hurt too much.

  There was plenty of work to occupy me.

  I began looking at the manpower resources that had fallen into my lap.

  Not promising. Plenty of spear carriers, determined young men, but hardly anyone who stood out as an immediate leader. Damn, I missed the military engine I’d had back home.

  I started wondering what I was doing here, why I had come. Pointless, woman. I could not go back. That empire had moved on. It had no place for me now.

  I missed more than my armies. I had no intelligence machine. No way to ferret out secrets.

  Ram remained my shadow, as much as he could. Determined to protect me, Ram was. Probably under the most dire orders of jamadar Narayan. “Ram, do you know the country around Taglios?”

  “No, Mistress. I never went out till I enlisted.”

  “I need men who do know. Find them, please.”

  “Mistress?”

  “This place is indefensible. Most of the men are drilling out of their homes.” Why was I explaining? “We need to get away from distractions and vulnerabilities.” Ideally on a hill near the south road, water, and a large wood.

  “I’ll ask around, Mistress.” He was reluctant to leave me but no longer had to be ordered away. He was learning. Give him another year.

  Narayan materialized before Ram returned. “It’s going all right. A lot of excitement. The men who were there—there must be at least six hundred of them now—are telling inflated stories about how we beat those cavalrymen. There’s talk about relieving Dejagore before the rainy season. I didn’t have to start it.”

  During the rainy season the Main became impassable. For five or six months it was Taglios’ wall against the Shadowmasters. And theirs against Taglios.

  What would happen if I got caught south of the river when the rains came? That would give me time to get the army whipped into shape.

  On the other hand, it would not leave me anywhere to run.

  “Narayan, get me…”

  “Mistress?”

  “I forget you haven’t been with me forever. I was going to send you after something we compiled before we went south.”

  One of our great enterprises had been a census of men, materials, animals, skills, and other resources an army needs. The results should be around somewhere still.

  There was a way around the high water dilemma if the right men and materials were available.

  “Mistress?” Narayan asked again.

  “Sorry. Just wondering what I’m doing here. I have these moments.”

  He took me literally. He started in on revenge and rebuilding the Company.

  “I know, Narayan. It’s just fatigue.”

  “Rest, then. You’ll have to be at your best later.”

  “Oh?”

  “Those who want to know about their men are gathering already. Surely the news of our arrival has reached all the false priests and even the palace. Men will come to see how they can take advantage of you.”

  “You’re right.”

  Ram returned with a half dozen men and some maps. None were men who had come north with me. They were nervous. They showed me three sites they thought might suit my purpose. I dismissed one immediately. It had a hamlet there already. Neither of the others had much to recommend it either way. Which meant I had to go look for myself.

  Something to kill time.

  I was getting as sarky as Croaker in my old age.

  I thanked everybody and sent them away. A few minutes’ rest would be useful. Like Narayan said, the siege would begin soon. We might have problems with men who could not wait to see their loved ones.

  I dragged my things into the quarters I had occupied last time, one small room I refused to share. I plopped on the cot. It had not changed while I was gone. Still a rock within a mask of linen.

  I’d just relax for a few minutes.

  * * *

  Hours fled. I dreamed. I was confused when Narayan wakened me. He came while I was visiting the caverns
of the ancients. The voice calling me was louder, clearer, more insistent, more pressed.

  I got hold of myself. “What is it?”

  “The crowds of relatives. I was having them visit the gate one by one, but they’ve started pushing and shoving. There must be four thousand people out there and more arriving all the time.”

  “It’s dark. Why did you let me sleep?”

  “You needed it. It’s raining, too. That may be a blessing.”

  “It’ll keep some people home.” But this would cost time however we handled it. “There’s a public square where we paraded before we went south. I don’t recall the name. Find out. Tell those people to assemble there. Tell the men to prepare for a short march in the weather. Tell Ram to ready my armor but forget the helmet.”

  * * *

  There were five thousand people in the square. I managed to intimidate them into keeping quiet. I faced them on my stallion, looking at a sea of lamps and lanterns and torches while the soldiers formed up behind me.

  I said, “You have a right to know what happened to your loved ones. But the soldiers and I have a great work before us yet. If you’ll cooperate we’ll handle this quickly. If you don’t remain orderly we’ll never get it done.” My Taglian had improved dramatically. No one had trouble understanding me.

  “When I point you out name the man you want to know about in a clear, loud voice. If one of the soldiers knew him he’ll speak up. Go to that soldier. Talk quickly and quietly. If the news is bad, contain yourself. There are others who want news, too. They have to be able to hear.”

  I doubted it would go smoothly for long but it was just a gesture meant to get me mentioned kindly outside the corridors of power.

  It worked well for longer than I expected, but Taglians are pliable people, used to doing what they’re told. When disorder did develop I just announced that we would leave if it did not stop.

  Some of my men were the objects of queries. I had Narayan moving through the formation. Those he knew were industrious, cooperative, hard-working, and loyal he could grant a short leave. He was supposed to remind the less diligent why they would remain on duty. Carrot and stick.

  It held up. Even the greenest behaved. It took all night but we satisfied half the crowd. I reminded everyone frequently that Mogaba’s legion and who knew how many more men were trapped in Dejagore, thanks to the desertion of Jahamaraj Jah. I made it sound like everyone not accounted for was among the besieged.

  Most were probably dead.

  Whips and carrots and emotional manipulations. I’d been at it so long I could do it in my sleep.

  A messenger came. There were priests at the barracks to see me. “Took them long enough,” I muttered. Were they late because they were off balance or because they waited till they were ready for a confrontation? No matter. They would wait till we finished.

  The rain stopped. It was never much more than a drizzling nuisance.

  Once we cleared the square I dismounted and walked with Narayan. We were seventy fewer now. He had let that many go. I asked, “Did you notice the bats?”

  “A few, Mistress.” He was puzzled.

  “Are they special among the omens of Kina?”

  “I don’t think so. But I was never a priest.”

  “They’re significant to me.”

  “Eh?”

  “They tell me, plain as a shout, that the Shadowmasters have spies here. General order to the men. Kill all bats. If they can, find out where they’re roosting. Watch out for foreigners. Pass the word to the populace, too. There are spies among us again and I want to lay hands on a few.”

  We’d probably end up swamped with useless reports about harmless people, but … A few wouldn’t be harmless. And those needed their teeth pulled.

  27

  The men waiting included delegations from all three religious hierarchies. They were not pleased that I had kept them waiting. I did not apologize. I was not in a good humor and did not mind a confrontation.

  They’d had to wait in the mess hall because there was nowhere else to put them. Even there they had to crowd up because they had to get out of the way of men who had nowhere else to spread their blankets.

  Before I went in I told Narayan, “First score to my credit. They came to me.”

  “Probably because none of them want you making a private deal with the others.”

  “Probably.” I put on my best scowl, laid on a light glamor, clanked into the mess hall. “Good morning. I’m honored but I’m also pressed for time. If you have something to discuss please get to the point. I’m an hour behind schedule and didn’t budget time for socializing.”

  They didn’t know how to take me. A woman talking hard was something new.

  Somebody shot an obnoxious question from the back.

  “All right. A position statement. That should save time. My religious attitude is indifference. I’ll stay indifferent as long as religion ignores me. My position on social issues is the same. I’m a soldier, one of the Black Company, which contracted with the Prahbrindrah Drah to rid Taglios of the Shadowmasters. My Captain fell. I replaced him. I will fulfill the contract. If that statement doesn’t answer your questions then you probably have questions you have no right to ask.

  “My predecessor was a patient man. He worried about offending people. I don’t share those qualities. I’m direct and unpleasant when aroused. Questions?”

  They had them. Of course. They yammered. I picked a man I recognized, one who was offensive and was not loved by his peers. He was a bald Gunni in scarlet. “Tal. You’re being unpleasant. Stop it. You have no legitimate business here. None of you have, really. I said I have no interest in religion. You have little cause to be interested in things military. Let’s leave each other to our own competences.”

  Beautiful Tal played his part as though rehearsed. His response was more than offensive, it was a direct challenge predicated upon my sex, speaking to my failure to commit suttee.

  I tossed him a Golden Hammer, not to the heart but to the right shoulder. It spun him around and knocked him down. He screamed for more than a minute before he passed out.

  It got real quiet. Everyone, including poor fuddled Narayan, stared at me wide-eyed.

  “You see? I’m not my predecessor. He would have remained polite. He would have clung to persuasion and diplomacy long past the point where a demonstration is a more effective way to communicate. Go tend to priestly matters. I’ll tend to making war and to wartime discipline.”

  That should not be hard for them to figure out. The Company’s contract made the Captain virtual military dictator for a year. Croaker had not used the power. I did not expect to. But it was there if needed.

  “Go. I have work to do.”

  They went. Quietly. Thoughtfully.

  “Well,” Narayan said after they left. “Well.”

  “Now they know I’m no fainter. Now they know I’m mission-oriented and don’t care who I stomp if they get in the way.”

  “They’re bad men to make enemies.”

  “They make the choice. Yes! I know. But they’re confused. It’ll take them a while to decide what to do. Then they’ll all get in each other’s ways. I’ve bought time. I need intelligence sources, Narayan. Find Ram. Tell him I want those men he brought to me earlier. It’s time to look at those sites.” Before he could argue, I added, “And tell him if he plans to keep on being my shadow he’d better learn to ride. I expect to be moving around a lot, now.”

  “Yes, Mistress.” He hurried off, paused just before he left, looked back, frowned. He was wondering who was using who and who had the upper hand. Good. Let him. While he was wondering I’d get my foundations set solidly.

  The men in the mess hall all stared at me with varying degrees of awe. Few met my gaze. “Rest while you can, soldiers. The sands are running through the glass.”

  I went to my quarters to wait for Ram.

  28

  Croaker stared into the drizzly night, fingers nervously twisting str
ands of grass. One of the horses made a sound out there. He thought about walking over there, mounting up bareback, riding away. He would stand a fifty-fifty chance of staying ahead.

  Except that things had changed. Now Catcher did not have to catch up physically.

  He held up the figure he had made, a man shape two inches tall. The grass gave off a garlic odor. He shrugged, flipped it out into the rain, took more strands of grass from a pocket. He had made hundreds now. Grass figures had become a sort of measure of time.

  A steady banging came from behind him. He turned away from the night, walked slowly toward the woman. She had produced a set of armorer’s tools from somewhere. This was the second day running she had spent building something. Obviously black armor, but why?

  She glanced at the horse figure he was twisting. “I may get you some paper and ink.”

  “Would you?” There was a lot he wanted to set down. He had grown used to keeping a journal.

  “I may. That’s no pastime for a grown man.”

  He shrugged, put the horse aside. “Take a break. Time to check you over.”

  She no longer wore robes. She was outfitted as she had been when first he had met her, in tight black leather that somehow left her sex ambiguous. Her Soulcatcher costume, she called it. She hadn’t bothered with the helmet yet.

  She set her tools aside, looked at him with mischief in her eyes. “You sound depressed.” The voice she chose was merry.

  “I am depressed. Stand up.” She did. He peeled away the leather around her neck. “It’s healing quickly. I’ll remove the sutures tomorrow, maybe.”

  “Will there be much scarring?”

  “I don’t know. Depends on how well your healing spells work. I didn’t know you were vain.”

  “I’m human. I’m a woman. I want to look nice.” Same voice but less merry.

  “You do look nice.” He did not think before he spoke. Just making a statement of fact. She looked nice in the sense that she was a beautiful woman. Like her sister. He had become very conscious of that since she had changed her style of dress. That left him nagged by low-grade guilt.