The next man took his with his eyes open. He choked. The priest showed no reaction, nor did he when two more men did the same.
My turn.
Narayan was a liar. He had prepared me but he had told me it was all illusion. This was no illusion. It was blood-with some drug added that gave it a slightly herby, bitter taste. Human blood? I do not know. Our seeing that body dragged away was no accident. We were supposed to think about it.
I got through it. I’d never endured anything like it but I’d been through terrible things before. I neither hesitated nor twitched. I told myself I was just minutes from taking control of the most terrible power in this end of the world.
That presence moved again.
It might take control of me.
The chief priest handed the vessel to his assistant, who returned it to the stand, began to chant.
The lights went out.
Absolute darkness engulfed the temple. I was startled, thinking something unusual had happened. When no one got excited I changed my mind. Must be part of the initiation.
That darkness lasted half a minute. Midway through, a scream rent the air, filled with despair and outrage.
Light returned as suddenly as it had gone.
I was stunned.
It was hard to take everything in.
There were only five candidates now. The idol had moved. Its raised foot had fallen, crushing one of the heads. Its other foot had risen. The body of the man who had been two to my left lay beneath it. His head, held by the hair, dangled from one of the idol’s hands. Before the lights had gone out that hand had clutched a bunch of bones. Another hand that had clutched a sword still did so but now that blade glistened. There was blood on the idol’s lips and chin and fangs. Its eyes gleamed.
How had they managed it? Was there some mechanical engine inside the idol? Had the priest and his assistant done the murder? They would have had to move fast. And I had not heard a sound but the scream.
The priests seemed startled, too.
The chief priest darted to the pile of robes, flung one my way, resumed his place, ran through one abbreviated chant, cried out, “She has come! She is among us! Praised be Kina, who has sent her Daughter to stand beside us.”
I covered my nakedness.
The normal flow had been disrupted somehow. The results had the priests ecstatic and, at the same time, at a loss what to do next.
What do you do when old prophecies come true? I’ve never met a priest who honestly expected miracles in his own lifetime. For them miracles are like good wine, best when aged.
They decided to suspend normal business and go straight to the celebration. That meant candidates got initiated without standing before Kina’s judgment. It meant human sacrifices forgotten. Quite unwittingly I saved the lives of twenty enemies of the Stranglers scheduled to be tortured and murdered during that night. The priests freed them to tell the world that the Deceivers were real and had found their messiah, that those who did not come to Kina soon would be devoured in the Year of the Skulls.
A fun bunch of guys, Croaker would say.
Narayan took me back to our fire, where he told Ram to drive off anyone with the temerity to bother me. He settled me with profuse apologies for not having prepared me better. He sat beside me and stared into the flames.
“It’s come, eh?” I asked after a while.
He understood. “It’s come. It’s finally real. Now there’s no doubt left.”
“Uhm.” I left him to his thoughts for a while before I asked, “How did they do that with the idol, Narayan?”
“What?”
“How did they make it move while it was dark?”
He shrugged, looked at me, grinned feebly, said, “I don’t know. That’s never happened before. I’ve seen at least twenty initiations. Always one of the candidates is chosen to die. But the idol never moves.”
“Oh.” I could think of nothing else till I asked, “Did you feel anything in there? Like something was with us?”
“Yes.” He was shivering. The night was not cold. He said, “Try to sleep, Mistress. We have to get started early. I want to get you to that physician.”
I lay me down, grimly reluctant to drift off into the land of nightmare, but I did not stay awake long. I was too exhausted, physically and emotionally. The last thing I saw was Narayan squatting there, staring into the flames.
Much to think on, Narayan. Much to think on, now.
There was no dreams that night. But there was sickness aplenty in the morning. I threw up till there was nothing left but bile.
Chapter Sixty-Six
The imp drifted away from the grove. The woman had not been hard to find, though that had taken longer than he had hoped. Now for the man.
Nothing. For a long, long time, not a trace.
He was not in Taglios. A frantic search produced nothing. Logic suggested he would search for his woman. He would not know her present whereabouts so he would head toward her last known location.
He was not at the ford. There was no sign he had visited Ghoja. Therefore, he had not. They would be talking about it still, as they were talking about him still in Taglios.
No Croaker. But a whole horde was headed for the ford, descending from the city. The woman had just missed meeting them headed north. A stroke of luck, that, but there was no way to keep her from learning he was alive. Not in the long run.
The prime mission was to keep them apart, anyway.
Was he amongst that mob? Couldn’t be. Their talk would have pointed him out.
The imp resumed his quest. If the man had not crossed at Ghoja and was not amongst the horde, then he would cross the river elsewhere. Sneaking.
He visited Vehdna-Bota last because it seemed the least likely crossing. He expected to find nothing there. Nothing was what he found. But this was a significant nothing. A company of archers was supposed to be stationed there.
He tracked those archers and found his man.
He had to make a decision. Run to his mistress- which would take time because he would have to find her-or take steps on his own?
He chose the latter course. The rainy season was fast approaching. It might do his job for him. They could not get together if they could not cross the river.
Amidst a moonless night the growing Ghoja bridge collapsed. Most of its timberwork washed away. The engineers could not figure out what went wrong. They understood only that it was too late to rebuild this year.
Any Taglian forces not back across before the waters rose would spend half a year on the Shadowlander side.
Satisfied, the imp went looking for his mistress.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
The archers halted in sight of the Taglian main camp. “We’re safe now,” Croaker told the prince. “Let’s make a proper entrance.”
Cavalry had found them two days earlier, forty miles north. Horsemen had visited regularly since yesterday. The archers had kept their mouths shut admirably. Willow Swan had led one patrol. He had not recognized anyone.
Croaker had had the captain borrow horses. The archers’ transport consisted only of mules enough to carry what the soldiers themselves could not. Two mounts had arrived an hour ago, saddled.
The prince dressed up as a prince. Croaker donned what he called his work clothes, a warlord’s outfit given him back when he had been every Taglian’s hero. He had not taken it along when he had gone south the first time.
He dug out the Company standard and reassembled it. “I’m ready. Prince?”
“Whenever.” The march south had been hard on the Prahbrindrah Drah but he had endured the hardships without complaint. The soldiers were pleased.
They mounted up and led the archers toward the camp. The first crows arrived during that passage. Croaker laughed at them. “‘Stone the crows!’ People in Beryl used to say that when the Company was there. I never did figure out what it meant but it sounds like a damned good way to do business.”
The prince chuckled and agreed,
then faced the greetings of soldiers from the camp who could not decide which of their visitors was more unlikely.
Croaker spied familiar faces: Blade, Swan, Mather... Hell! That looked like Murgen. It was Murgen! But nowhere did he spy the face he wanted to see.
Murgen approached in little spurts, each halving the distance between himself and his Captain. Croaker dismounted, said, “It’s me. I’m real.”
“I saw you die.”
“You saw me hit. I was still breathing when you took off.”
“Oh. Yeah. But the shape you were in...”
“It’s a long story. We’ll sit around and talk about it all night. Get drunk if there’s anything drinkable.” He glanced at Swan. Where Swan lighted, beer usually appeared. “Here. You left this behind when you went off to play Widowmaker.” He shoved the standard at Murgen.
The younger man took it like he expected it to bite. But once he had hold of it he ran his hands up and down the shaft of the lance. “It really is! I thought it was lost for sure. Then it’s really you?”
“Alive and in a mood to do some serious ass-kicking. But I’ve got something else on my mind right now. Where’s Lady?”
Blade made a perfunctory acknowledgment of the prince’s presence, said, “Lady went north with Narayan and Ram. Eight, nine days ago. Said she had business that couldn’t wait.”
Croaker cursed.
Swan said, “Nine days ago. That really him? Not somebody fixed up to fool us?”
Mather said, “It’s him. The Prahbrindrah Drah wouldn’t lend himself to any deceit.”
“Ain’t that my luck. Ain’t that the story of my life? Just when my future is so bright I have to wear blinders.”
Croaker noted a broad, stubby man behind Blade. He did not know the man but recognized personal power. This was someone important. And someone not thrilled to see the Liberator alive. He would bear watching.
“Murgen. Stop making love to that thing. Fill me in on what’s been happening. I’ve been out of touch for weeks.” Or months, if filtered truths were considered. “Can somebody take this animal? So we can all go find some shade?”
There was more confusion in the camp than might have been if Longshadow had materialized there. The return of a dead man always complicates things.
Without appearing to take particular note Croaker noticed that the short, wide man stayed close, pretending insignificance beside Blade, Swan, and Mather. He never spoke.
Murgen talked about his experiences since the disastrous battle. Blade told his tale. Swan tossed in a few dozen anecdotes of his own.
“Shadowspinner himself, eh?” Croaker asked.
Swan said, “That’s the old boy’s head on the pole over yonder.”
“The field gets narrower.”
Murgen said, “Let’s hear your story while it’s still news.”
“You going to put it in the Annals? You been keeping them up?”
Embarrassed, the younger man nodded. “Only I had to leave them in the city when I came out.”
“I understand. I look forward to reading the Book of Murgen. If it’s any good you’ve got the job for life.”
Swan said, “Lady Was doing one of them things herself.”
Everyone looked at him.
He wilted some. “Well, what she really did was talk about writing one. When she got the time. I don’t think she ever really put anything down. She just said how she had to keep some things straight in her head so she could get them down right. The obligation of history, she called it.”
“Let me think a minute,” Croaker said. He picked up a stone, threw it at a crow. The bird squawked and fluttered a few feet but did not take the hint. It was Catcher’s, all right. She was back in circulation, free. Or in alliance with her captors.
After a while Croaker observed, “We have a lot of catching up to do. But I suspect the critical business is to end this problem with Mogaba. How many men does he have left in there?”
“Maybe a thousand, fifteen hundred,” Murgen guessed.
“One-Eye and Goblin stayed when he’s become their enemy?”
“They can protect themselves,” Murgen said. “They don’t want to come out here. They think there’s something waiting to get them. They want to sit tight till Lady gets her powers back.”
“Powers back? Is she? Nobody mentioned that.” But he had suspected it for a long time.
“She is,” Blade said. “Not as fast as she’d like.”
“Nothing happens as fast as she’d like. What are they afraid of, Murgen?”
“Shifter’s apprentice. Remember her? She was there when we got rid of Shifter and Stormshadow. She took off on us. They say she’s locked into the forvalaka shape but still has her own mind. And she’s out to get them for killing Shifter. Especially One-Eye.” One-Eye had killed the wizard Shapeshifter because Shifter had killed his brother Tom-Tom long ago. “The wheel of vengeance turning.” Croaker sighed. “She’s maybe out to get everybody who was involved.”
“That angle hasn’t come up before.”
“I think they’re imagining it.”
“You never know with those clowns.” Croaker leaned back, closed his eyes. “Tell me more about Mogaba.”
Murgen had a lot to say.
Croaker observed, “I always suspected there was more to him than he showed. But human sacrifices ? That’s a little much.”
“They didn’t just sacrifice them. They ate them.”
“What?”
“Well, their hearts and livers. Some of them. There was only four or five guys really into that with Mogaba.”
Croaker glanced at the wide man. The fellow was indignant to the point of explosion. Croaker said, “I guess that explains why Gea-Xle was such a peaceful town. If the city guard eats criminals and rebels...” He chuckled. But cannibalism was not humorous. “You, sir. We haven’t been introduced. You seem to have strong feelings about Mogaba.”
Murgen said, “That’s Sindhu. One of Lady’s special friends.”
“Oh?” What did that mean?
Sindhu said, “They have abandoned themselves to Shadow. The true Deceiver seldom spills blood. He opens the golden path without tempting the goddess’s thirst. Only the blood of an accursed enemy should be spilled. Only an accursed enemy should be tortured.”
Croaker glanced around. “Anybody know what the hell he’s talking about?”
Swan said, “Your girlfriend is running with some strange characters.” He chose a northern dialect. “Maybe Cordy can explain. He’s spent more time trying to figure it out.”
Croaker nodded. “I suppose we ought to put an end to this. Murgen. You game to go back again? Take a message to Mogaba?”
“I don’t want to sound like a slacker, Captain, but not unless it’s an order. He wants to kill me. Crazy as he’s gotten, he might try it with you standing right there watching.”
“I’ll get somebody else.”
“I’ll do it,” Swan said.
Mather jumped him. “It’s not your no nevermind, Willow.”
“Yes, it is. I got to find out something about myself, Cordy. I wasn’t no help when we went after Shadowspinner. I froze up. I want to see if something’s wrong with me. Mogaba is the guy to show me. He’s about as spooky as a Shadowmaster.”
“Damned poor thinking, Willow.”
“I never did have any sense. I’ll go, Captain. When you want to do it?”
Croaker glanced around. “Anything going on, Blade? Any reason we shouldn’t walk over and take a look, send Swan?”
“No.”
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Life is full of surprises. I don’t mind the little ones. They add spice. It’s the big ones that get me.
I stumbled into a parade of big ones at my new fortress.
The first thing they did was arrest all three of us and shove us into a cell. Nobody bothered to explain. Nobody said anything. They seemed surprised I did not go berserk.
We sat in gloom and waited. I was afraid Smok
e had won his point at last and had turned the Prahbrindrah Drah against me. Narayan said maybe I’d missed a few priests and this was all their fault.
We did not talk much. We used only sign and cant when we did. No telling who was listening.
Three hours after we went into the cell the door opened. The Radisha Drah strode in, backed by a squad of her guards. It got crowded in there. She glared at me. “Who are you?”
“What kind of question is that? Lady. Captain of the Black Company. Who should I be?”
“She even takes a deep breath, kill her.” The Radisha wheeled on Ram. “You. Stand up.”
Faithful Ram might not have heard. He looked to me. I nodded. Then he stood. The Radisha grabbed a torch from a guard, held it close to Ram, circled him slowly. She sniffed and sniffed. After her third circuit she relaxed. “Sit. You’re who you’re supposed to be. But the woman. Who is she?”
That seemed a little too tough for Ram. He had to think about it. He looked at me again. I nodded. He said, “She told you.”
She looked at me. “Can you prove you’re Lady?” “Can you prove you’re the Radisha Drah?” “I have no need. No one is masquerading as me.” I got it. “That bitch! She never was short on nerve. Walked in here and took over, eh? What did she do?” The Radisha considered some more. “We have the right one this time. Guards. You may go.” They went. The Radisha said, “She didn’t do much. Mostly played up to my brother. She wasn’t here that long. Then somebody called the Howler knocked her out and carried her off. Thinking she was you, Croaker said.”
“Ha! Serves the bitch... Who said?” “Croaker. Your Captain. She brought him with her, disguised as that one.” She indicated Ram.
Some sort of impenetrable membrane lay between my ears and my heart. Very carefully, before it broke, I asked, “Did Howler take him, too? Where is he?”
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