by Glen Cook
He hit the street as a second shriek came from the direction of the Enclosure. He followed pointing hands. A pair of balls joined by a cord whipped away to the north. Seconds later all Juniper was illuminated by a particolored glare.
“The black castle!” people said. “They hit the black castle.”
Shed could see it from his street. It had vanished behind a curtain of color. Terror gripped his heart. He could not understand it. He was safe down here. Wasn’t he?
Wasn’t he? The Company had great wizards supporting it. They would not let the castle do anything.... A mighty hammer blow threw stuff around the north slope. He could not see what was happening, but instantly sensed that the castle had struck at someone. Possibly that Croaker, who was up there keeping the place isolated. Maybe the castle was trying to open the road.
Crowd yammer directed his attention to two dots dropping from the blue. Fire enveloped the castle. Obsidian shifted form, writhing, then found its normal shape again. The flying attackers soared, turned. Another pair of balls hurtled in, apparently thrown from Duretile. And down came the carpet riders.
Shed knew who they were and what was happening, and he was terrified. Around him, the Buskin, taken unawares, went berserk.
He retained the presence of mind to consider his own position. Here, there, members of the Black Company were running for battle stations. Squads formed up. hurried off. Pairs of soldiers took stations apparently assigned against times when rioting and looting looked possible. Nowhere did Shed see anyone identifiable as his babysitter.
He slipped back inside the Lily, upstairs, into his room, dug into his secret place. He stuffed gold and silver into his pockets, dithered over his amulet, then hung it around his neck, under his clothing. He scanned the room once, saw nothing else he wanted to take, hurried back downstairs. There was no one in the common room but Sal, who stood at the door watching the display on the north slope. He’d never seen her more homebody and calm.
“Sal.”
“Marron? Is it time?”
“Yes. I’m leaving twenty leva in the box. You’ll do fine as long as the soldiers keep coming in.”
“Is that up there what’s been going on?”
“That’s where it’s been headed. It’ll probably get worse. They’re here to destroy the castle. If they can.”
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know.” He honestly did not. “Wouldn’t tell you if I did. They would find out from you.”
“When will you be back?”
“Maybe never. Certainly not before they pull out.” He doubted the Company ever would. Or, if it did, it would be replaced. Its Lady seemed the type not to turn loose of anything.
He gave Sal a peck on the cheek. “Take care. And don’t short yourself or the kids. If Lisa turns up, tell her she’s fired. If Wally does, tell him I forgive him.”
He headed for the back door. The flash and roar on the slope continued. At one point there was a howling which fluttered toward Duretile, but it broke up somewhere over the Enclosure. He put his head down and his collar up and followed alleyways toward the waterfront.
Only twice did he encounter patrols. Neither boasted a man who knew him. The first ignored him. The corporal commanding the second told him to get his ass off the street and went on.
From Wharf Street he could see the black castle once more, through the masts and stays of countless ships. It seemed to have gotten the worst of the exchange, which had died away. Thick, black smoke boiled out of the fortress, an oily column leaning a few degrees and rising thousands of feet, then spreading in a dark haze. On the slopes below the castle there was a twinkling and seething, an anthill-like suggestion of movement. He supposed the Company was hurrying into action.
The waterfront was in a frenzy. The channel boasted a dozen vessels heading out. Every other foreign ship was preparing to sail. The river itself seemed strangely disturbed and choppy.
Shed tried three ships before he found one where money talked loudly enough to be heard. He paid ten leva to a piratical purser and found himself a spot where he would not be seen from shore.
Nevertheless, as the crew were casting off, the man called Pawnbroker came racing along the pier with a squad of soldiers, shouting at the ship’s master to hold fast.
The ship’s master made an obscene gesture, told them where they could go, and began drifting with the current. There were too few tugs for the number of ships moving out.
For his defiance the skipper got an arrow through the throat. Astonished sailors and officers stood frozen, aghast. Arrows stormed aboard, killed more than a dozen men, including the mate and boatswain. Shed cowered in his hiding place, gripped by a terror deeper than any he had known before.
He had known they were hard men, men who did not play games. He had not realized just how hard they were, how savage they could be. The Duke’s men would have thrown up their hands in despair and wandered away cursing. They would not have massacred anyone.
The arrows kept coming, in a light patter, till the vessel was out of range.
Only then did Shed peep out and watch the city dwindle slowly. Oh, slowly, did it drift away.
To his surprise none of the sailors were angry with him. They were angry, true, but had not made a connection between the attack and their last-minute passenger.
Safe, he thought, elated. That lasted till he began to wonder where he was bound and what he would do once he got there.
A sailor called, “Sir, they’re coming after us in a launch.” Shed’s heart dropped to his ankles. He looked and saw a small ship pulling out, trying to put on sail. Men in Black Company uniform abused the crew, hurrying them.
He got back into hiding. After the mauling these men had taken, there was no doubt they would surrender him rather than suffer more. If they realized he was what Pawnbroker wanted.
How had the man picked up his trail?
Sorcery. Of course. Had to be.
Did that mean they could find him anywhere?
Chapter Thirty-Five: JUNIPER: BAD NEWS
The fuss was over. It had been a dramatic display while it lasted, though not as impressive as some I’ve seen. The battle on the Stair of Tear. The fighting around Charm. This was all flash and show, more rattling to Juniper’s people than to us or the denizens of the black castle. They did us no harm. The worst they suffered was the direct deaths outside their gate. The fire inside did no real harm. Or so the Taken reported.
Grimy, Whisper grounded her carpet outside my headquarters, trundled inside looking the worse for wear but unharmed. “What started it?” she asked.
The Lieutenant explained.
“They’re getting frightened,” she said. “Maybe desperate. Were they trying to scare you off or take you prisoner?”
“Definitely prisoner,” I said. “They hit us with some kind of sleepy spell before they came after us.” One-Eye supported me with a nod.
“Why were they unsuccessful?”
“One-Eye broke the spell. Turned it around on them. We killed three.”
“Ah! No wonder they were upset. You brought one down with you?”
“I thought we could understand them better if I cut one up to see how he was made.”
Whisper did one of her mental fades, communing with the mistress of us all. She returned. “A good idea. But Feather and I will do the cutting. Where is the corpse? I’ll take it to Duretile now.”
I indicated the body. It was in plain sight. She had two men carry it to her carpet. I muttered, “Don’t damn trust us to do anything anymore.” Whisper heard me. She did not comment.
Once the body was loaded, she told the Lieutenant, “Begin your preliminary siegework immediately. A cir-cumvallation. Limper will support you. It’s likely the Dominator’s creatures will try to break out or take prisoners, or both. Don’t permit it. A dozen captives would allow them to open the pathway. You would find yourself facing the Dominator. He would not be kind.”
“No shit.” The Lieute
nant is a tough guy’s tough guy when it suits him. In those moments not even the Lady could intimidate him. “Why don’t you clear out? Tend to your job and let me tend to mine.”
His remarks didn’t fit the moment, but he was fed up with Taken in general. He had been on the march with the Limper for months, and the Limper fancied himself a commander. He gave the Lieutenant and Captain both a bellyful. And maybe that was the source of the friction between the Company and Taken. The Captain had his limits, too, though he was more diplomatic than the Lieutenant. He would ignore orders that did not suit him.
I went out to watch the circumvallation of the black castle. Drafts of laborers arrived from the Buskin, shovels over their shoulders and terror in their eyes. Our men put down their tools and assumed guardianship and supervisory roles. Occasionally the black castle sputtered, making a feeble attempt to interfere, like a volcano muttering to itself after its energy has been spent. The locals sometimes scattered and had to be rounded up. We lost a lot of good will won earlier.
A sheepish yet angry Pawnbroker came looking for me, gravity accentuated by the afternoon sunlight. I eased away and went to meet him. “What’s the bad news?”
“That damned Shed. Made a run for it in the confusion.”
“Confusion?”
“The city went crazy when the Taken started sniping at the castle. We lost track of Shed. By the time Goblin found him, he was on a ship headed for Meadenvil. I tried to keep it from pulling out, but they wouldn’t stop. I shot them up, then grabbed a boat and went after them, but I couldn’t catch up.”
After cursing Pawnbroker, and stifling an urge to strangle him, I sat down to think. “What’s the matter with him, Pawn? What’s he afraid of?”
“Everything, Croaker. His own shadow. I reckon he figured we were going to kill him. Goblin says it was more than that, but you know how he loves to complicate stuff.” “Like what?”
“Goblin says he wants to make a clean break with the old Shed. Fear of us was the motivation he needed to get moving.”
“Clean break?”
“You know. Like from guilt about everything he did. And from reprisals by the Inquisitors. Bullock knows he was in on the Catacombs raid. Bullock would jump on him as soon as he got back.”
I stared down at the shadowed harbor. Ships were getting under way still. The waterfront looked naked. If outsiders kept running, we would become very unpopular. Juniper depended heavily on trade.
“You find Elmo. Tell him. Say I think you ought to go after Shed. Find Kingpin and those guys and bring them back. Check on Darling and Bullock while you’re at it.” He looked like a man condemned, but did not protest. He had several screw-ups to his credit. Being separated from his comrades was a cheap penalty to pay. “Right,” he said, and hustled off.
I returned to the task at hand.
Disorganization resolved itself as the troops formed the locals into work crews. The earth was flying. First a good deep trench so the creatures from the castle would have trouble getting out, then a palisade behind that.
One of the Taken remained airborne, circling high above, watching the castle.
Wagons began coming up from the city, carrying timber and rubble. Down there other work crews were demolishing buildings for materials. Though they were structures unfit for occupation and long overdue for replacement, they housed people who were not going to love us for destroying their homes.
One-Eye and a sergeant named Shaky took a large labor draft around the castle, down to the roughest slope, and began a mine designed to drop part of the castle wall down the steep slope. They did nothing to conceal their purpose. Wasn’t much point trying. The things we faced had the power to knife through any subterfuge.
Actually managing to breech the wall would be a tough job. It might take weeks, even with One-Eye helping. The miners would have to cut through many yards of solid rock.
The project was one of several feints the Lieutenant would employ, though the way he plans a siege, one day’s feint can become another’s main thrust. Drawing on a manpower pool like Juniper, he could exercise every option.
I felt a certain pride, watching the siege take shape. I have been with the Company a long time. Never had we undertaken so ambitious a project. Never had we been given the wherewithal. I wandered around till I found the Lieutenant. “What’s the plan here, anyway?” Nobody ever told me anything.
“Just nail them down so they can’t get out. Then the Taken will jump all over them.”
I grunted. Basic and simple. I expected it would get more complicated. The creatures inside would fight. I
Fispect the Dominator was lying restless, shaping a counterstroke. Must be hell to be buried alive, able to do nothing but wish and hope at minions far beyond direct control. Such impotence would destroy me in a matter of hours. I told the Lieutenant about Shed’s escape. He did not get excited. Shed meant little to him. He did not know about Raven and Darling. To him, Raven was a deserter and Darling his camp follower. Nothing special. I wanted him to know about Shed so he would mention it to the Captain. The Captain might want to take action more vigorous than my recommendation to Elmo.
I stayed with the Lieutenant a while, he watching the work crews, I watching a wagon train come uphill. This one should be bringing supper. “Getting damned tired of cold meals,” I muttered.
“Tell you what you ought to do, Croaker. You ought to get married and settle down.”
“Sure,” I replied, more sarcastically than I felt. “Right after you.”
“No, really. This might be the place to do it. Set yourself up in practice, catering to the rich. That Duke’s family, say. Then, when your girlfriend gets here, you pop the question and you’re all set.”
Daggers of ice drove into my soul, twisting. I croaked, “Girlfriend?”
He grinned. “Sure. Nobody told you? She’s coming out for the big show. Going to run it personally. Be your big chance.”
My big chance. But for what?
He was talking about the Lady, of course. It had been years, but still they rode me about some romantic stories I wrote before I actually met the Lady. They always ride anybody about anything they know will get their goat. All part of the game. All part of the brotherhood.
I bet the son-of-a-bitch had been boiling with the news since first he heard it, waiting to spring in on me.
The Lady. Coming to Juniper.
I considered deserting for real. While there was a ship or two left to get away.
Chapter Thirty-Six: JUNIPER: FIREWORKS
The castle lulled us. Let us think we could slam the door without a squawk. For two days the labor crews ripped at the north ridge, gouging out a good deep trench, getting up much of the needed stockade, hammering out a nice beginning of a mine. Then they let us in on their displeasure.
It was a little bit chaotic and a whole lot hairy, and in retrospect, it seems it may not have started as what it became.
It was a moonless night, but labor crews were working by firelight, torchlight, lanternlight. The Lieutenant had wooden towers going up each hundred feet where the trench and palisade were complete, and nearby them small ballistae for mounting atop them. A waste of time, I thought. What value mundane siege equipment against minions of the Dominator? But the Lieutenant was our siege specialist. He was determined to do things properly, by the numbers, even if the ballistae never were used. They had to be available.
Sharp-eyed Company members were in the towers near-ing completion, trying to see into the castle. One detected movement at the gate. Instead of raising a fuss, he sent a message down. The Lieutenant went up. He decided that someone had left the castle and slipped around to One-Eye’s side. He had drums sounded, trumpets blown, and fire arrows shot into the air.
The alarm wakened me. I rushed up to see what was happening. For a while there was nothing to see.
On the far slope One-Eye and Shaky stood to arms. Their workers panicked. Many were killed or crippled trying to flee across the brushy, rocky,
steep slope. A minority had sense enough to stand fast.
The castle folks wanted to make a quick strike and catch some of One-Eye’s workers, drag them inside, and complete whatever rites were necessary to bring the Dominator through. Once they were discovered, their strategy shifted. The men in the towers yelled that more were coming out. The Lieutenant ordered harassing fire. He had a couple of small trebuchets chuck balls of burning brush into the area near the gate. And he sent men to find Goblin and Silent, figuring they could do more than he to provide needed illumination.
Goblin was down in the Buskin. It would take him an hour to respond. I had no idea where Silent might be. I had not seen him, though he had been in Juniper a week. The Lieutenant had signal fires lighted to warn watchers on Ouretile’s walls that we had a situation.
The Taken above finally came down to investigate. It proved to be the Limper. His first act was to take a handful of javelins, do something to them, then cast them to earth from above. They became pillars of chartreuse light between trench and castle.
On the far slope One-Eye provided his own illumination by spinning spiderwebs of violet and hanging their corners on the breeze. They quickly betrayed the approach of a half-dozen shapes in black. Arrows and javelins flew.
The creatures suffered several casualties before they took exception. Light blazed, then faded into a shimmer which surrounded each. They attacked.
Other shapes appeared atop the castle wall. They hurled objects down-slope. The size of a man’s head, they bounded toward the minehead. One-Eye did something to alter their course. Only one escaped him. It left a trail of unconscious soldiers and workers. The castle creatures had, evidently, planned for every possibility but One-Eye. They were able to give the Limper hell, but did nothing about One-Eye at all.