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

by Glen Cook

  She laughed. “I’m reading your mind, Croaker.”

  She was not, literally. She would not be pleased with him if she was. But she had been around a long time and had studied people. She could read books from a few physical clues.

  He grunted. He was getting used to it. There was no point trying hard to hide from it. “What are you making?”

  “Armor. We’ll be healed enough to go soon. We’ll have great fun.”

  “I’ll bet.” He felt a twinge in his chest. He was almost healed. There had been none of the complications he had expected. He had begun taking forced exercise.

  “We’re the gadflies here, love. The chaos factor. My beloved sister and the Taglians know nothing about us. Those clubfooted Shadowmasters know I’m here but they don’t know about you. They don’t know what you’ve accomplished. They think I’m a nuisance floating around in the dark. I doubt they’ve entertained the notion that I could be restored.”

  She rested a hand on his cheek. “I’m more basic than you think.”

  “Oh?”

  Change of voice, businesslike, masculine, at odds with the invitation. “I have eyes everywhere. I know every word spoken by anyone who interests me. A while back I arranged for Longshadow to be diverted while Howler visited Spinner and cut Longshadow’s webs of control.”

  “Damn! He’ll hit Dejagore with everything.”

  “He’ll lie low and pretend he’s unchanged. The siege costs him nothing. He’ll be more interested in improving his position in relation to Longshadow. He knows Longshadow will destroy him when he’s no longer useful. We’ll have fun. We’ll poke around and make them chase their tails. When the dust settles, maybe there’ll be no Longshadow, no Shadowspinner, no Howler, just you and me and an empire of our own. Or maybe the spirit will move me some other direction. I don’t know. I’m just having fun with it.”

  He shook his head slightly. Hard to believe, but it sounded true. Her schemes could kill thousands, could distress millions, and to her it was play.

  “I’ll never understand you.”

  She giggled the giggle of a girl with nothing between the ears. She was neither young nor empty-headed. “I don’t understand myself. But I gave up trying a long time ago. It’s distracting.”

  Games. From the first she had been involved in tortuous maneuvers and manipulations, to no obvious end. Her great pleasure was to watch a scheme flower and devour its victim. Her only plot to fail had been the one meant to displace her sister. And she had not failed completely then because she had survived, somehow.

  She said, “Soon Kina’s followers will start arriving. We’ll have to be somewhere else. So let’s go down to Dejagore and cause some confusion. We ought to get there about the time Spinner figures he’s ready to make an independent move. Be interesting to see how it goes.”

  Croaker did not understand but did not ask. He was used to her talking in riddles. She let him know what she wanted him to know when she was ready to tell him. No point pressing her. He could do little but bide his time and hope.

  “It’s late,” she said. “We’ve done enough for today. Let’s turn in.”

  He grunted, not eager. The place gave him the creeps when he thought about it, which meant every night as he fell asleep. Which meant at least one potent nightmare. He would be glad to get out.

  Maybe out there he could vanish—if he could think of a way to hide from the crows.

  Fifteen minutes after the lamp went out Soulcatcher asked, “Are you awake?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s cold in here.”

  “Uhm.” It always was. Most nights he fell asleep shivering.

  “Why don’t you come over here?”

  The shivering worsened. “I don’t think so.”

  She laughed. “Some other time.”

  He fell asleep worrying about how she always got her way instead of about the temple. His dreams were more troubling than nightmares.

  * * *

  Once he wakened momentarily. The lamp was alive again. Soulcatcher was murmuring with a clatch of crows. The subject seemed to be events in Taglios. She appeared pleased. He drifted off without understanding what it was about.

  29

  Neither potential campsite was perfect. One had been fortified before, in ancient times. For centuries people had carried the stone off for use elsewhere. I chose that site.

  “Nobody remembers the name,” I told Ram as we rode toward town. “Makes you think.”

  “Huh? About what?”

  “The fleeting nature of things. Taglios’ entire history could have been influenced by what happened there and now nobody remembers the name.”

  He looked at me oddly, straining for understanding. He wanted to understand but he didn’t have the capacity. The past was last week, the future tomorrow. There was no reality in anything that happened before he was born.

  He was not stupid. He seemed big and dull and slow but possessed an average intellect. He just had not learned to employ it.

  “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’m just being moody.” He understood moody. He expected it. His wife and mother had been “moody.”

  He did not have time now to think, anyway. He was too busy staying on his horse.

  We returned to the barracks. There was another crowd looking for their loved ones. Narayan was handling them efficiently. They eyed me curiously. Not at all the way they had looked at Croaker. Him they had hailed Liberator everywhere. Me, I was a freak without the sense to know she was not a man.

  I would grow on them. Just a matter of creating a legend.

  Narayan caught up with me. “There was a messenger from the palace. The prince wants you to dine with him tonight. Someplace called the grove.”

  “Oh?” That was where I had met him first. Croaker had taken me. The grove was an outdoor place frequented by the rich and influential. “Request or order?”

  “Invitation. Will you do me the honor of, like that.”

  “Did you accept?”

  “No. How could I guess what you’d want to do?”

  “Good. Send a message. I accept. What time?”

  “He wasn’t specific.”

  It would slow me down but I might accomplish something that would save fussing and feuding later. At least I’d learn how much grief I could expect from the state. “I’m going to sketch out the camp I want built. We’ll send one company plus five hundred recruits to start. Pick whoever you think we should get out of the city. That mess outside. How’s it going?”

  “Well enough, Mistress.”

  “Any volunteers showing?”

  “A few.”

  “And intelligence? Have you gotten anything started?”

  “Lot of people want to tell us things. Mostly about foreigners. Nothing really interesting.”

  “Keep at it. Let me do those sketches. After that I’ll make a list to give the Prahbrindrah. After that I’ll make myself presentable.” Around here somewhere would be my imperial getup, that I’d worn last time, and my coach, that we had brought down from the north and had left here when we had marched on Ghoja.

  “Ram, before we went south I had several men help me make special armor. I need to find them again.”

  I went to work sketching and estimating.

  * * *

  The coach was not as impressive with a four-horse team but people did gawk. I had enough skill to make hooves strike fire and to set a glamor running the coach’s exterior. The fire-breathing skull of the Company blazed on both doors. The steel-rimmed wheels and pounding hooves rumbled thunderously.

  I was satisfied.

  I reached the grove an hour before sunset, entered, looked around. Just like last time, the cream of Taglian society had come out to rubberneck. Ram and a red rumel man named Abda, of Vehdna background, were my bodyguards. I did not know Abda. He was with me because Narayan said he was good.

  They had spruced up. Ram cleaned up nicely when you held a knife to his kidneys. Bathed, hair and beard trimmed,
in new clothes, he cut a handsome figure. But Abda did not improve much. He was a shifty-eyed little villain who looked like a villain no matter what.

  I wished I had brought a Gunni bodyguard, too, to make a symbolic statement. You can’t think of everything when you’re rushed.

  The Prahbrindrah rose as I strode up to him. He smiled. “You found me. I was concerned. I wasn’t specific about where we’d meet.”

  “It seemed logical I’d find you where we met before.”

  He eyed Ram and Abda. He had come alone. A measure of his confidence in his people’s reverence? Misplaced confidence, maybe.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” he invited. “I’ve tried to order things I think you’ll like.” He glanced at Ram and Abda again, perplexed. He did not know what to do about them.

  I said, “Last time I was here somebody tried to kill Croaker. Forget them. I trust their discretion.” I had no idea whether I could trust Abda or not. Didn’t seem smart to make a point of it, though.

  Servitors started with refreshments and appetizers. From the state of the grove you could not tell Taglios was a nation threatened with extinction.

  “You look radiant this evening.”

  “I don’t feel it. I feel worn out.”

  “You should relax more. Take life easier.”

  “Have the Shadowmasters decided to take a holiday?”

  He sampled something that looked like shrimp. Where had shrimp come from, here? Well, the sea was not that far away.

  Which sparked a germ of an idea. I set it aside for later examination.

  The prince swallowed, dabbed his lips with a napkin. “You seem determined to make my life difficult.”

  “Oh?”

  “You roar ahead like the whirlwind, giving no one time to think. You rush headlong. Everyone else has to concentrate on keeping their balance.”

  I smiled. “If I give anyone time to do anything but run along behind me I’ll be up to my ears in grief. None of you seem to understand the magnitude of your enemy. You all have your priorities inverted. Everybody wants to dance around and get the angle on everybody else. Meantime, the Shadowmasters are planning to exterminate all of you.”

  He nibbled and pretended to think. “You’re right. But people are human. Nobody here has ever had to think in terms of external enemies. Or really deadly enemies.”

  “The Shadowmasters count on that, too.”

  “No doubt.”

  A new course arrived, more substantial. Some kind of bird. I was surprised. The prince’s background was Gunni. The Gunni were determined vegetarians.

  Watching my surroundings I spied two things I did not like. There were dozens of crows among the trees. And that priest Tal I had embarrassed earlier, with several of his cronies, was watching us.

  The Prahbrindrah said, “I’m under a lot of pressure because of you. Some from close quarters. It puts me in a delicate position.”

  Where was his sister? Were she and Smoke riding him? Probably. I shrugged and ate.

  The prince said, “It would help if I knew your plans.”

  I told him.

  “Suppose some important people don’t approve or don’t feel you’re the right champion?”

  “It wouldn’t matter. There’s a contract in force. It will be fulfilled. And I don’t distinguish between enemies foreign or domestic.”

  He understood.

  Nothing got said during the next course. Then he blurted, “Did you kill Jahamaraj Jah?”

  “Yes.”

  “My gods! Why?”

  “His existence offended me.”

  He gulped some air.

  “He deserted at Dejagore. That cost us the battle. That was reason enough. But he also planned to kill your sister and blame me. He had a wife. If Shadar women are foolish enough to kill themselves over men, you can tell her to fire her ghat. Any priest’s wife who has a husband like Jah had better start collecting firewood. She’ll need it.”

  He winced. “You’ll start a civil war.”

  “Not if everybody behaves and minds his own business.”

  “You don’t understand. Priests consider everything their business.”

  “How many men are we talking about? A few thousand? You ever watch a gardener prune? He snips a twig here, a branch there, and the plant grows stronger. I’ll prune if I have to.”

  “But … There’s only you. You can’t take on…”

  “I can. I will. I’m going to fulfill the contract. And so are you.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve heard that you and your sister didn’t negotiate in good faith. Not smart, my friend. Nobody cheats the Company.”

  He did not respond.

  “I’m not really good at games. I’m not subtle. My solutions are forthright and final.”

  “Forthright and final begets forthright and final. You kill a Jah, the other Jahs will get the idea their only option is to kill you.”

  “Only if they ignore the option of minding their own business. And where’s my risk? I have nothing to lose. That’s the fate planned for me once I’m used up, anyway. Why cooperate in my own destruction?”

  “You can’t just keep killing people who don’t agree with you.”

  “I won’t. Only people who disagree and try to force their ideas on me. Here in Taglios, now, there’s no legitimate cause for conflict.”

  The prince seemed surprised. “I don’t follow.”

  “Taglios must be preserved from the Shadowmasters. The Company contracted to do that. Where’s the problem? We do what we agreed, you pay up as agreed, we go away. That ought to make everyone happy.”

  The prince looked at me like he wondered how I could be so naive. “I’m starting to think we have no basis for communication. This dinner may have been a mistake.”

  “No. It’s been productive. It’ll keep on being productive if you listen to me. I’m not beating around the bush. I’m telling you how it is and how it’s going to be. Without me the Shadowmasters will eat you alive. You think they’ll be impressed by which cult got a leg up on what with a boondoggle wall construction grant? I know how those people think. If they reach Taglios they’ll slaughter everybody who could possibly make trouble ever. You should understand that. You saw what they did elsewhere.”

  “It’s impossible to argue with you.”

  “Because you know I’m right. I have a list of things I need right away. I have to build an encampment and prepare a training ground immediately.”

  This could lead to a quick confrontation. The resources would have to come from that absurd wall project. The city was too big to surround effectively. The project could not be justified. It was a tool for transferring the wealth of the state to a few individuals.

  I said, “The men and resources devoted to the wall can be more profitably employed.”

  He understood. I was asking for trouble. He grunted.

  I said, “Why don’t we just enjoy our meal?”

  We tried but it never turned into a festive evening.

  A few courses along, with the conversation darting between his younger years and mine, I took the offensive again. “One more thing I want. The books Smoke hid.”

  His eyes got big.

  “I want to know why you’re afraid of the past.”

  He smiled weakly. “I think you know. Smoke is sure you do. He believes it was the point of your coming.”

  “Give me a clue.”

  “The Year of the Skulls.”

  I was not entirely surprised. I feigned bewilderment. “Year of the Skulls? What’s that?”

  He glanced at Ram and Abda. Doubt appeared. I recalled toying with my rumel while talking to his sister. He would not doubt long.

  “If you don’t know you should find out. But I’m not the best authority. Talk it over with your friends.”

  “I have no friends if I don’t have the Prahbrindrah Drah.”

  “A pity.”

  “Do you have?”

  That baffled him again. He forc
ed a smile. “Perhaps I don’t. Perhaps I ought to try to make some.” The smile changed.

  “We all need a few. Sometimes our enemies won’t let us find them. I should be getting back. My number two is inexperienced and handicapped by his place in your caste system.”

  A hint of disappointment? He had wanted more than a discussion of princes and warlords.

  “Thank you for the dinner, Prahbrindrah. I’ll treat you in kind, soon. Ram. Abda.” They stepped close. Ram offered a hand up. They had stayed behind me, unseen. I was pleased that they were alert. Ram would have been if only because of where we were. A man of his station had no hope of visiting the grove ordinarily. “Have a pleasant evening, Prince. I expect to hand you the heads of Taglios’ enemies within the year.”

  He wore a sort of sad, yearning look as he watched us go. I knew what he was feeling. I had felt it often while I was empress in the north. But I had hidden it better.

  30

  Ram waited till he was confident we were out of earshot. “Something is going to happen, Mistress.”

  “Trouble?”

  “We were watched by sneaking Gunni priests all the time. They acted like they were up to no good.”

  “Ah.” I did not question his estimate. He did not have too rich an imagination. I snapped fingers at a nearby servitor. “Fetch Master Gupta.”

  Master Gupta ran the grove, a benign dictator. He was attentive to his guests—especially those who were close to the Prahbrindrah Drah. He appeared almost instantly.

  Bowing like a coolie, he asked, “What could the great lady want of this lowly worm?”

  “How about a sword?” Dressed as a woman and empress I had not come heavily armed. I had one short dagger.

  His eyes got huge. “A sword? What would I do with a sword, Mistress?”

  “I haven’t the faintest. But I want to borrow one if you can provide it.”

  Eyes even bigger, he bowed several times. “I’ll see what can be found.” He scooted off, throwing uncertain looks over his shoulder.

  “Ram, help me shed some of this showpiece.”