“He making out at it?”
“Not as well as you. The Custodians take all the burial gifts except passage urns.” Every corpse in the Catacombs was accompanied by a small, sealed urn, usually fixed on a chain around the body’s neck. The Custodians did not touch the few coins in those. When the Day of Passage came, the Boatmen would demand payment for passage to Paradise.
“All those souls stranded,” Shed murmured. He explained.
Raven looked baffled. “How can anybody with an ounce of brains believe that crap? Dead is dead. Be quiet, Shed. Just answer questions. How many bodies in the Catacombs?”
“Who knows? They’ve been putting them away since... Hell, for a thousand years. Maybe there’s millions.”
“Must have them stacked like cordwood.”
Shed wondered about that. The Catacombs were vast, but a thousand years’ worth of cadavers from a city Juniper’s size would make a hell of a pile. He looked at Raven. Damn the man. “It’s Asa’s racket. Let’s not try.”
“Why not?”
“Too dangerous.”
“Your friend hasn’t suffered.”
“He’s smalltime. If he gets greedy, he’ll get killed. There are Guardians down there. Monsters.”
“Describe them.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Can’t. All they tell you is that they’re there.”
“I see.” Raven rose. “This needs investigating. Don’t discuss it. Especially not with Asa.”
“Oh, no.” Panicked, Asa would do something stupid.
Word drifted in off the street. Krage had sent his two best men after Raven. They had disappeared. Three more had vanished since. Krage himself had been injured by an unknown assailant. He had survived only because of Count’s immense strength. Count wasn’t expected to live.
Shed was terrified. Krage was neither reasonable nor rational. He asked Raven to move out. Raven stared at him in contempt.
“Look, I don’t want him killing you here,” Shed said.
“Bad for business?”
“For my health, maybe. He’s got to kill you now. People will stop being scared of him if he doesn’t.”
“He won’t learn, eh? A damned city of fools.”
Asa boiled through the doorway. “Shed, I got to talk to you.” He was scared. “Krage thinks I turned him over to Raven. He’s after me. You got to hide me, Shed.”
“Like hell.” The trap was closing. Two of them here. Krage would kill him for sure, would dump his mother into the street.
“Shed, I kept you in wood all winter. I kept Krage off your back.”
“Oh, sure. So I should get killed, too?”
“You owe me, Shed. I never told nobody how you go out at night with Raven. Maybe Krage would want to know that, huh?”
Shed grabbed Asa’s hands and yanked him forward, against the counter. As if cued, Raven stepped up behind the little man. Shed glimpsed a knife. Raven pricked Asa’s back, whispered, “Let’s go to my room.”
Asa went pallid. Shed forced a smile. “Yeah.” He released Asa, took a stoneware bottle from beneath the counter. “I want to talk to you, Asa.” He collected three mugs. Shed went up last, intensely aware of his mother’s blind stare. How much had she heard? How much had she guessed? She had been cool lately. His shame had come between them. He no longer felt deserving of her respect. He clouted his conscience. I did it for her!
Raven’s room had the only door left on the upper floors. Raven held it for Asa and Shed. “Sit,” he told Asa, indicating his cot. Asa sat. He looked scared enough to wet himself. Raven’s room was as Spartan as his dress. It betrayed no hint of wealth. “I invest it, Shed,” Raven said, wearing a mocking smile. “In shipping. Pour the wine.” He began cleaning his nails with a knife. Asa downed his wine before Shed finished pouring the rest. “Fill him up,” Raven said. He sipped his own wine. “Shed, why have you been giving me that sour cat’s piss when you had this?”
“Nobody gets it without asking. It costs more.”
“I’ll take this from now on.” Raven locked gazes with Asa, tapped his own cheek with his knife blade.
No, Raven wouldn’t have to live frugally. The body business would be lucrative. He invested? In shipping? Odd the way he said that. Where the money went might be as interesting as whence it came. “You threatened my friend,” Raven said. “Oh. Excuse me, Shed. A misstatement. It’s partner, not friend. Partners don’t have to like each other. Little man. You have something to say for yourself?” Shed shuddered. Damn Raven. He’d said that so Asa would spread it around. Bastard was taking control of his life. Nibbling away at it like a mouse slowly destroying a head of cheese. “Honest, Mr. Raven. I didn’t mean nothing. I was scared. Krage thinks I tipped you. I got to hide, and Shed’s scared to put me up. I was just trying to get him to...”
“Shut up. Shed, I thought he was your friend.”
“I just did him some favors. I felt sorry for him.”
“You’d shelter him from weather, but not from enemies. You’re a real gutless wonder, Shed. Maybe I made a mistake. I was going to make you a full partner. Going to give you the whole business eventually. Thought I’d do you a favor. But you’re a yellow-dog creep. Without the guts to deny it.” He whirled. “Talk, little man. Tell me about Krage. Tell me about the Enclosure.” Asa went white. He didn’t open up till Raven threatened to call the Custodians.
Shed’s knees racketed off one another. The hilt of his butcher knife was sweat-moist and slippery. He could not have used the blade, but Asa was too scared to see that. He just squeaked at his team and started rolling. Raven followed them in his own wagon. Shed glanced across the valley. The black castle brooded on the northern skyline, casting its dread shadow across Juniper. Why was it there? Where had it come from? He rejected the questions. Best to ignore it.
How had he gotten into this? He feared the worst. Raven had no sensibilities.
They left the wagons in the grove, entered the Enclosure. Raven examined Asa’s wood stash. “Move these bundles to the wagons. Stack them alongside for now.” “You can’t take my wood,” Asa protested. “Shut up.” Raven pushed a bundle through the wall.
“You first, Shed. Little man, I’ll hunt you down if you run off.”
They had moved a dozen bundles when Asa whispered, “Shed, one of Krage’s goons is watching us.” He was about to panic.
Raven was not displeased with the news. “You two go get bundles from the woods.”
Asa protested. Raven glared. Asa headed uphill. “How does he know?” he whined at Shed. “He never followed me. I’m sure of that.”
Shed shrugged. “Maybe he’s a sorcerer. He always
knows what I’m thinking.”
Raven was gone when they returned. Shed looked around, nervously decided, “Let’s get another load.”
Raven was waiting next trip. “Take those bundles to Asa’s wagon.”
“An object lesson,” Shed said, pointing into the wagon. Blood ran across the floorboards, seeping from under a pile of wood.
“See what kind of man he is?”
“Up the hill now,” Raven ordered when they returned. “Lead off, Asa. Collect your tools and torches to start.”
Suspicion nagged Shed as he watched Raven build a litter. But no. Even Raven wouldn’t stoop that low. Would he?
They stood looking down into the dark mouth of the underworld. “You first, Asa,” Raven said. Reluctantly, Asa descended.
“You’re next, Shed.”
“Have a heart, Raven.”
“Get moving.”
Shed moved. Raven came down behind him.
The Catacombs had a carnal smell, but weaker than Shed had anticipated. A draft stirred Asa’s torch.
“Stop,” Raven said. He took the brand, examined the gap through which they had entered, nodded, passed the torch back. “Lead on.” The cavern widened and joined a larger cave. Asa halted halfway across. Shed stopped, too. He was surrounded by
bones. Bones on the cave floor, bones on racks on the walls, skeletons hanging from hooks. Loose bones in tumbles and piles, all mixed together. Skeletons sleeping amidst the clutter. Bones still within shreds of burial raiment. Skulls leering from wooden pegs on the far wall, empty eyes sinister in the torchlight. A passage urn shared each peg.
There were mummified bodies, too, though only a few. Only the rich demanded mummification. Here riches meant nothing. They were heaped with all the rest. Asa volunteered, “This is a real old place. The Custodians don’t come here anymore, unless maybe to get rid of loose bones. The whole cave is filled up up that way, like they just pushed them out of the way.”
“Let’s look,” Raven said. Asa was right. The cavern narrowed and its ceiling descended. The passageway was choked with bones. Shed noted the absence of skulls and urns. Raven chuckled. “Your Custodians aren’t as passionate about the dead as you thought, Shed. The chambers you see during Spring and Autumn Rites aren’t like this,” Shed admitted.
“I don’t guess anybody cares about the old ones anymore,” Asa said.
“Let’s go back,” Raven suggested. As they walked, he observed, “We all end up here. Rich or poor, weak or strong.” He kicked a mummy. “But the rich stay in better shape. Asa, what’s down the other way?”
“I only ever went about a hundred yards. More of the same.” He was trying to open a passage urn.
Raven grunted, took an um, opened it, dumped several coins onto his hand. He held them near the torch. “Uhm. How did you explain their age, Asa?”
“Money has no provenance,” Shed said.
Asa nodded. “And I made out like I’d found a buried treasure.”
“I see. Lead on.”
Soon Asa said, “This is as far as I ever went.”
“Keep going.”
They wandered till even Raven responded to the oppression of the cavern. “Enough. Back to the surface.” Once up top, he said, “Get the tools. Damn. I’d hoped for better.”
Soon they were back with a spade and ropes. “Shed, dig a hole over there. Asa, hang on to this end of the rope. When I yell, start pulling.” Raven descended into the Catacombs.
Asa remained rooted, as instructed. Shed dug. After a while, Asa asked, “Shed, what’s he doing?”
“You don’t know? I thought you knew everything he did.”
“I just told Krage that. I couldn’t keep up with him all night.”
Shed grimaced, turned another spadeful of earth. He could guess how Asa worked. By sleeping somewhere most of the time.
Spying would have interfered with wood-gathering and grave-robbing.
Shed was relieved. Asa didn’t know what he and Raven had done. But he would before long.
He looked inside himself and found little self-disgust. Damn! He was accustomed to these crimes already. Raven was making him over in his own image.
Raven shouted. Asa hauled away. He called, “Shed, give me a hand. I can’t get this by myself.”
Resigned, Shed joined him. Their catch was exactly what he expected, a mummy sliding out of the darkness like some denizen of the deeps of yesteryear. He averted his gaze. “Get his feet, Asa.”
Asa gagged. “My God, Shed. My God. What are you doing?”
“Be quiet and do what you’re told. That’s the best way. Get his feet.”
They moved the body into the brush near Shed’s pit. A passage urn rolled out of a bundle tied upon its chest. The bundle contained another two dozen urns. So. The hole was for burying empty urns. Why didn’t Raven fill his pockets down there?
“Let’s get out of here, Shed,” Asa whined.
“Back to your rope.” Ums took time to empty. And Raven had two men up top with little to do but think. So. They were busy-work. And an incentive, of course. Two dozen urns with each cadaver would build up quite a pile.
“Shed...”
“Where you going to run to, Asa?” The day was clear and unseasonably warm, but it was still winter. There was no way out of Juniper. “He’d find you. Go back to your rope. You’re in it now, like it or not.” Shed resumed digging.
Raven sent up six mummies. Each carried its bundle of urns. Then Raven returned. He studied Asa’s ashen face, Shed’s resignation. “Your turn, Shed.”
Shed gulped, opened his mouth, swallowed his protest, slunk toward the hole. He lingered over it, a hair’s breadth from rebellion.
“Move it, Shed. We don’t have forever.”
Marron Shed went down among the dead.
It seemed he was in the Catacombs forever, numbly selecting cadavers, collecting urns, dragging his grisly booty to the rope. His mind had entered another reality. This was the dream, the nightmare. At first he did not understand when Raven called for him to come up.
He clambered into gathering dusk. “Is that enough? Can we go now?”
“No,” Raven replied. “We’ve got sixteen. I figure we can get thirty on the wagons.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“You haul up,” Raven said. “Asa and I will go down.”
Shed hauled. In the silvery light of a three-quarters moon the dead faces seemed accusing. He swallowed his loathing and placed each with the others, then emptied ums.
He was tempted to take the money and run. He stayed more out of greed than fear of Raven. He was a partner this time. Thirty bodies at thirty leva meant nine hundred leva to share out. Even if he took the small cut, he would be richer than he’d ever dreamed.
What was that? Not Raven’s order to haul away. It sounded like someone screaming... He nearly ran. He did go to pieces momentarily. Raven’s bellowing brought him together. The man’s cold, calm contempt had vanished.
Shed heaved. This one was heavy. He grunted, strained... Raven came scrambling up. His clothing was torn. A bloody gash marked one cheek. His knife was red. He whirled, grabbed the rope. “Pull!” he shouted. “Damn you, pull!”
Asa came out a moment later, tied to the rope. “What happened? My God, what happened?” Asa was breathing, and that was about it. “Something jumped us. It tore him up before I could kill it.”
“A Guardian. I warned you. Get another torch. Let’s see how bad he is.” Raven just sat there panting, flustered. Shed got the torch, lighted it. Asa’s wounds were not as bad as he had feared. There was a lot of blood, and Asa was in shock, but he wasn’t dying. “We ought to get out of here, Raven. Before the Custodians come.”
Raven recovered his composure. “No. There was only one. I killed it. We’re in this now. Let’s get it done right.”
“What about Asa?”
“I don’t know. Let’s get to work.”
“Raven, I’m exhausted.”
“You’re going to get a lot tireder before we’re done. Come on. Let’s get the mess cleaned up.”
They moved the bodies to the wagons, then the tools, then carted Asa down. As they worked the litter through the wall, Shed asked, “What should we do with him?”
Raven looked at him as though he were a moron. “What do you think, Shed?”
“But...”
“It doesn’t much matter now, does it?”
“I guess not.” But it did matter. Asa wasn’t much, but Shed knew him. He was no friend, but they had helped one another out... “No. Can’t do it, Raven. He can make it. If I was sure he was checking out, yeah. Okay. No body, no questions. But I can’t kill him.”
“Well. A little spirit after all. How are you going to keep him quiet? He’s the kind who gets throats cut with loose talk.”
“I’ll handle him.”
“Whatever you say, partner. It’s your neck.”
The night was well along when they reached the black castle. Raven went in first. Shed followed closely. They pulled into the same passage as before. The drill was the same. After they laid out the bodies, a tall, lean creature went down the line.
“Ten. Ten. Thirty. Ten. Ten.” And so forth.
Raven protested vigorously. The only offers above ten were for the men who had followed them
to the Enclosure and for Asa, who remained in his wagon.
The tall being faced Raven. “These have been dead too long. They have little value. Take them back if you’re not satisfied.”
“All right. All right. Let’s have it.”
The being counted out coins. Raven pocketed six of each ten. He handed the rest to Shed. As he did so, he told the tall being, “This man is my partner. He may come alone.”
The tall figure inclined its head, took something from within its clothing, handed it to Shed. It was a silver pendant in the form of serpents entwined.
“Wear that if you come up alone,” Raven said. “That’s your safe-conduct.” Under his icy stare Shed slipped the pendant into a pocket already filled with silver.
He ran the arithmetic. One hundred twelve leva as his share. It would have taken him half a decade to accumulate that much honestly. He was rich! Damn him, he was rich! He could do anything he wanted. No more debts. No more Krage killing him slowly. No more gruel every meal. Turn the Lily into something decent. Maybe find a place where his mother would have proper care. Women. All the women he could handle.
As he turned his wagon, he glimpsed a high chunk of wall that hadn’t been there last visit. A face stared out. It was the face of the man he and Raven had brought in alive. Its eyes watched him.
Chapter Fourteen
Juniper
Duretile
Whisper delivered us to a broken-down castle named Duretile. It overlooks Juniper in general and the Enclosure in specific. For a week we had no contact with our hosts. We had no language in common. Then we were graced with the presence of a thug named Bullock who spoke the languages of the Jewel Cities.
Bullock was some kind of enforcer for the local religion. Which I could not figure out at all. It looks like a death cult at first. Look again and you find death or the dead not worshipped but revered, with bodies fanatically preserved against some millennial revival. The whole character of Juniper is shaped by this, except for the Buskin, where life has so many concerns more vital than the welfare of the dead.
I took an instant dislike to Bullock. He struck me as violence-prone and sadistic, a policeman who would solve his cases with a truncheon. He would survive when the Lady annexed Juniper. Her military governors have a need for his ilk.
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