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The Black Company tbc-1

Page 8

by Glen Charles Cook


  He had been a good spy when we had had no reason to worry about him. He had been just plain old Cornie, friendly stablekeeper, whom we had tipped a little extra and talked around no more nor less than anyone else outside the Company. He had been under no pressure. He hadn’t had to be anything but himself.

  “You got me all wrong, Elmo. Honest. I don’t never get involved in politics. The Lady or the Whites, it’s all the same to me. Horses need feeding and stabling no matter who rides them.”

  “Reckon you’re right there, Cornie. Excuse me for being suspicious.” Elmo winked at One-Eye.

  “That’s the Amador where those fellows are staying, Elmo. You better go over there before somebody tells them you’re in town. Me, I’d better start getting this place cleaned up.”

  “We’re in no hurry, Cornie. But you go ahead with whatever you’ve got to do.”

  Cornie eyed us. He went a few steps toward what was left of his stable. He looked us over. Elmo considered him blandly. One-Eye lifted his horse’s left foreleg to check its hoof. Cornie ducked into the ruin. “One-Eye?” Elmo asked.

  “Right on out the back. Heeling and toeing.”

  Elmo grinned. “Keep your eye on him. Croaker, take notes. I want to know who he tells. And who they tell. We gave him something that ought to spread like the clap.”

  “Zouad was a dead man from the minute Raven named his name,” I told One-Eye. “Maybe from the minute he did whatever it was back when.”

  One-Eye grunted, discarded. Candy picked up and spread. One-Eye cursed. “I can’t play with these guys, Croaker. They don’t play right,”

  Elmo galloped up the street, dismounted. “They’re moving in on that whorehouse. Got something for me, One-Eye?”

  The list was disappointing. I gave it to Elmo. He cursed, spat, cursed again. He kicked the planks we were using as a card table. “Pay attention to your damned jobs.”

  One-Eye controlled his temper. “They’re not making mistakes, Elmo. They’re covering their asses. Comic has been around us too long to trust.”

  Elmo stomped around and breathed fire.- “All right. Backup plan number one. We watch Zouad. See where they take him after they grab him. We’ll rescue him when he’s about ready to croak, wipe out any Rebels around the place, then hunt down anybody who checked in there.”

  I observed, “You’re determined to show a profit, aren’t you?”

  “Damned straight. How’s Raven?”

  “Looks like he’ll pull through. The infection is under control, and One-Eye says he’s started to heal.”

  “Uhn. One-Eye, I want Rebel names. Lots of names.”

  “Yes sir, boss, sir.” One-Eye produced an exaggerated salute. It became an obscene gesture when Elmo turned away.

  “Push those planks together, Doughbelly,” I suggested. “Your deal, One-Eye.”

  He did not respond. He did not bitch or gripe or threaten to turn me into a newt. He just stood there, numb as death, eye barely cracked.

  “Elmo!”

  Elmo got in front of him and stared from six inches away. He snapped his fingers under One-Eye’s nose. One-Eye did not respond. “What do you think, Croaker?”

  “Something is happening at that whorehouse,”

  One-Eye did not move a muscle for ten minutes. Then the eye opened, unglazed, and he relaxed like a wet rag. Elmo demanded, “What the hell happened?”

  “Give him a minute, will you?” I snapped.

  One-Eye collected himself. “The Rebel got Zouad, but not before he contacted the Limper.”

  “Uhm?”

  “The spook is coming to help him.”

  Elmo turned a pale shade of grey. “Here? To Oar?”

  “Yep.”

  “Oh, shit.”

  Indeed. The Limper was the nastiest of the Taken. “Think fast, Elmo. He’ll trace our part in it... Cornie is the cutout link.”

  “One-Eye, you find that old shit. Whitey. Still. Pokey. Got a job for you.” He gave instructions. Pokey grinned and stroked his dagger. Bloodthirsty bastard.

  I cannot adequately portray the unease One-Eye’s news generated. We knew the Limper only through stories, but those stories were always grim. We were scared. Soul-catcher’s patronage was no real protection against another of the Taken.

  Elmo punched me. “He’s doing it again.”

  Sure enough. One-Eye was stiff. But this time he went beyond rigidity. He toppled, began thrashing and foaming at the mouth.

  “Hold him!” I ordered. “Elmo, give me that baton of yours.” A half dozen men piled on One-Eye. Small though he was, he gave them a ride.

  “What for?” Elmo asked.

  “I’ll put it in his mouth so he doesn’t chew his tongue.” One-Eye matte the weirdest sounds I’ve ever heard, and I have heard plenty on battlefields. Wounded men make noises you would swear could not come from a human throat.

  The seizure lasted only seconds. After one final, violent surge, One-Eye lapsed into a peaceful slumber.

  “Okay, Croaker. What the hell happened?”

  “I don’t know. The falling sickness?”

  “Give him some of his own soup,” somebody suggested. “Serve him right.” A tin cup appeared. We forced its contents down his throat.

  His eye clicked open. “What are you trying to do? Poison me? Feh! What was that? Boiled sewage?”

  “Your soup,” I told him.

  Elmo jumped in. “What happened?”

  One-Eye spat. He grabbed a nearby wineskin, sucked a mouthful, gargled, spat again. “Soulcatcher happened, that’s what. Whew! I feel for Goblin now.”

  My heart started skipping every third beat. A nest of hornets swarmed in my gut. First the Limper, now Soulcatcher.

  “So what did the spook want?” Elmo demanded. He was nervous too. He is not usually impatient.

  “He wanted to know what the hell is going on. He heard the Limper was all excited. He checked with Goblin. All Goblin knew was that we headed here. So he climbed into my head.”

  “And was amazed at all the wide open space. Now he knows everything you know, eh?”

  “Yes.” Obviously, One-Eye did not like the idea.

  Elmo waited several seconds. “Well?”

  “Well what?” One-Eye covered his grin by pulling on the wineskin.

  “Dammit, what did he say?”

  One-Eye chuckled. “He approves of what we’re doing. But he thinks we’re showing all the finesse of a bull in rut. So we’re getting a little help.”

  “What kind of help?” Elmo sounded like he knew things were out of control, but could not see where.

  “He’s sending somebody.”

  Elmo relaxed. So did I. As long as the spook himself stayed away. “How soon?” I wondered aloud.

  “Maybe sooner than we’d like,” Elmo muttered. “Lay off the wine, One-Eye. You still got to watch Zouad.”

  One-Eye grumbled. He went into that semi-trance that means he is looking around somewhere else. He was gone a long time.

  “So!” Elmo growled when One-Eye came out of it. He kept looking around like he expected Soulcatcher to pop out of thin air.

  “So take it easy. They’ve got him tucked away in a secret sub-basement about a mile south of here.”

  Elmo was as restless as a little boy with a desperate need to pee. “What’s the matter with you?” I asked.

  “A bad feeling. Just a bad, bad feeling, Croaker.” His roving gaze came to rest. His eyes got big. “I was right. Oh, damn, I was right.”

  It looked as tall as a house and half as wide. It wore scarlet bleached by time, moth-eaten, and tattered. It came up the street in a sort of shamble, now fast, now slow. Wild, stringy grey hair tangled around its head. Its bramble patch of a beard was so thick and matted with filth that its face was all but invisible. One pallid, liver-spotted hand clutched a pole of a staff that was a thing of beauty defiled by its bearer’s touch. It was an immensely elongated female body, perfect in every detail.

  Someone whispered, “They say
that was a real woman back during the Domination. They say she cheated on him.”

  You could not blame the woman. Not if you gave Shifter a good look.

  Shapeshifter is Soulcatcher’s closest ally among the Ten Who Were Taken. His enmity for the Limper is more virulent than our patron’s. The Limper was the third corner in the triangle explaining Shifter’s staff.

  He stopped a few feet away. His eyes burned with an insane fire that made them impossible to meet. I cannot recall what color they were. Chronologically, he was the first great wizard-king seduced, suborned, and enslaved by the Dominator and his Lady.

  Shaking, One-Eye stepped out front. “I’m the wizard,” he said.

  “Catcher told me.” Shifter’s voice was resonant and deep and big for even a man of his size, “Developments?”

  “I’ve traced Zouad. Nothing else.”

  Shifter scanned us again. Some folks were doing a fade. He smiled behind his facial brush.

  Down at the bend in the street civilians were gathering to gape. Oar had not yet seen any of the Lady’s champions. This was the city’s lucky day. Two of the maddest were in town.

  Shifter’s gaze touched me. For an instant I felt his cold contempt. I was a sour stench in his nostrils.

  He found what he was looking for. Raven. He moved forward. We dodged the way small males duck the dominant baboon at the zoo. He stared at Raven for several minutes, then his vast shoulders hunched in a shrug. He placed the toes of his staff on Raven’s chest.

  I gasped. Raven’s color improved dramatically. He stopped sweating. His features relaxed as the pain faded. His wounds formed angry red scar tissue which faded to the white of old scars in minutes. We gathered in a tighter and tighter circle, awed by the show.

  Pokey came trotting up the street. “Hey, Elmo. We did it. What’s going on?” He got a look at Shifter, squeaked like a caught mouse.

  Elmo had himself together again. “Where’s Whitey and Still?”

  “Getting rid of the body.”

  “Body?” Shifter asked. Elmo explained. Shifter grunted. “This Cornie will become the basis of our plan. You” He speared One-Eye with a sausage-sized finger. “Where are those men?”

  Predictably, One-Eye located them in a tavern. “You.” Shifter indicated Pokey. “Tell them to bring the body back here.”

  Pokey got grey around the edges. You could see the protests piling up inside him. But he nodded, gulped some air, and trotted off. Nobody argues with tile Taken.

  I checked Raven’s pulse. It was strong. He looked perfectly healthy. As diffidently as I could, I asked, “Could you do that for the others? While we’re waiting?”

  He gave me a look I thought would curdle my blood. But he did it.

  “What happened? What are you doing here?” Raven frowned up at me. Then it came back to him. He sat up. “Zouad...” He looked around.

  “You’ve been out for two days. They carved you up like a goose. We didn’t think you’d make it.”

  He felt his wounds. “What’s going on, Croaker? I ought to be dead.”

  “Soulcatcher sent a friend. Shifter. He fixed you up.” He had fixed everybody. It was hard to stay terrified of a guy who would do that for your outfit.

  Raven surged to his feet, wobbled dizzily. “That damned Cornie. He set it up.” A knife appeared in his hand. “Damn. I’m weak as a kitten.”

  I had wondered how Cornie could know so much about the attackers. “That isn’t Cornie there, Raven. Cornie is dead. That’s Shifter practicing to be Cornie.” He did not need practice. He was Cornie enough to fool Cornie’s mother.

  Raven settled back beside me. “What’s going on?” I brought him up to date. “Shifter wants to go in using Cornie as credentials. They probably trust him now.” “I’ll be right behind him.” “He might not like that.”

  “I don’t care what he likes. Zouad isn’t getting out of it this time. The debt is too big.” His face softened and saddened. “How’s Darling? She hear about Flick yet?”

  “I don’t think so. Nobody’s been back to Deal. Elmo figures he can do whatever he wants here as long as he don’t have to face the Captain till it’s over.” “Good. I won’t have to argue it with him.”

  “Shifter isn’t the only Taken in town,” I reminded him. Shifter had said he sensed the Limper. Raven shrugged. The Limper did not matter to him.

  The Cornie simulacrum came toward us. We rose. I was shaky, but did note that Raven grew a shade paler. Good. He wasn’t a cold stone all the time.

  “You will accompany me,” he told Raven. He eyed me. “And you. And the sergeant.”

  “They know Elmo,” I protested. And he grinned.

  “You will appear to be Rebels. Only one of the Circle would detect the deception. None of them are in Oar. The Rebel here is independently minded. We will take advantage of his failure to summon support.” The Rebel is as plagued by personality politics as is our side.

  Shifter beckoned One-Eye. “Status of Colonel Zouad?”

  “He hasn’t cracked.”

  “He’s tough,” Raven said, begrudging the compliment.

  “You getting any names?” Elmo asked me.

  I had a nice list. Elmo was pleased.

  “We’d better go,” Shifter said. “Before Limper strikes.”

  One-Eye gave us the passwords. Scared, convinced I was not ready for this, more convinced that I did not dare contest Shifter’s selections, I trudged along in the Taken’s wake.

  I don’t know when it happened. I just glanced up and found myself walking with strangers. I gobbled at Shifter’s back.

  Raven laughed. I understood then. Shifter had cast his glamour over us. We now appeared to be captains of the Rebel persuasion. “Who are we?” I asked.

  Shifter indicated Raven. “Harden, of the Circle. Raker’s brother-in-law. They hate one another the way Catcher and Limper hate one another.” Next, Elmo. “Field Major Reef, Harden’s chief of staff. You, Harden’s nephew, Motrin Hanin, as vicious an assassin as ever lived.”

  We had heard of none of them, but Shifter assured us their presence would not be questioned. Harden was in and out of Forsberg all the time, making life tough for his wife’s brother.

  Right, I thought. Fine and dandy. And what about the Limper? What do we do if he shows up?

  The people at the place where they were holding Zouad were more embarrassed than curious when Cornie announced Harden. They had not deferred to the Circle. They did not ask questions. Apparently the real Harden possessed a vile, volatile, unpredictable temper.

  “Show them the prisoner,” Shifter said.

  One Rebel gave Shifter a look that said, “Just you wait, Cornie.”

  The place was packed with Rebels. I could almost hear Elmo thinking out his plan of attack.

  They took us down into a basement, through a cleverly concealed doorway, and down deeper still, into a room with earthen walls and ceiling supported by beams and timbers. The decor came straight out of a fiend’s imagination.

  Torture chambers exist, of course, but the mass of men never see them, so they never really believe in them. I’d never seen one before.

  I surveyed the instruments, looked at Zouad there strapped into a huge, bizarre chair, and wondered why the Lady was considered such a villain. These people said they were the good guys, fighting for the right, liberty, and the dignity of the human spirit, but in method they were no better than the Limper.

  Shifter whispered to Raven. Raven nodded. I wondered how we would get our cues. Shifter had not rehearsed us much. These people would expect us to act like Harden and his cutthroats.

  We seated ourselves and observed the interrogation. Our presence inspired the questioners. I closed my eyes. Raven and Elmo were less disturbed.

  After a few minutes “Harden” ordered Major Reef to go handle some piece of business. I do not recall the excuse. I was distracted. Its purpose was to put Elmo back on the street so he could start the roundup.

  Shifter was winging it. We w
ere supposed to sit tight till he cued us. I gathered we would make our move when Elmo closed in and panic started seeping down from above. Meantime, we would watch Colonel Zouad’s demolition.

  The Colonel was not that impressive, but then the torturers had had him a while. I expect anyone would look hollow and shrunken after enduring their mercies.

  We sat like three idols. I sent mental hurryups to Elmo. I had been trained ’to take pleasure in the healing, not the breaking, of human flesh.

  Even Raven seemed unhappy. Doubtless he had fantasized torments for Zouad, but when it came to the actuality his basic decency triumphed. His style was to stick a knife in a man and have done.

  The earth lurched as if stomped by a huge boot. Soil fell from the walls and overhead. The air filled with dust. “Earthquake!” somebody yelled, and the Rebels all scrambled for the stair. Shifter sat still and smiled.

  The earth shuddered again. I fought the instinct of the herd and remained seated. Shifter was not worried. Why should I be?

  He pointed at Zouad. Raven nodded, rose, went over. The Colonel was conscious and lucid and frightened by the quaking. He looked grateful when Raven started unbuckling him.

  The great foot stamped again. Earth fell. In one corner a supporting upright toppled. A trickle of loose soil began running into the basement. The other beams groaned and shifted. I barely controlled myself.

  Sometime during the tremor Raven stopped being Harden. Shifter stopped being Cornie. Zouad looked them over and caught on. His face hardened, went pale. As if he had more to fear from Raven and Shapeshifter than from the Rebel.

  “Yeah,” Raven said. “It’s payoff time.”

  The earth bucked. Overhead there was a remote rumble of falling masonry. Lamps toppled and went out. The dust made the air almost unbreathable. And Rebels came tumbling back down the stair, looking over their shoulders.

  “Limper is here,” Shifter said. He did not seem displeased. He rose and faced the stair. He was Cornie again, and Raven was Harden once more.

  Rebels piled into the room. I lost track of Raven in the press and poor light. Somebody sealed the door up top. The Rebels got quiet as mice. You could almost hear hearts hammering as they watched the stair and wondered if the secret entrance were well enough hidden.

 

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