by Glen Cook
Limper left his aerial steed, marched uphill with a long, black sword that glimmered evilly in the light from the burning fortress. He radiated a glow not unlike that protecting the castle creatures. His, however, was far more puissant than theirs, as he demonstrated when he pushed through the press and attacked them. Their weapons could not reach him. His sliced through them as though they were made of lard.
The creatures, by that time, had slaughtered at least five hundred men. The majority were workers, but the Company had taken a terrible beating, too. And that beating went on even after the Limper turned the tide, for he could engage but one creature at a time. Our people strove to keep the enemy contained till the Limper could get to them.
They responded by trying to swamp the Limper, which they managed with some success, fifteen or twenty piling on and keeping him pinned by sheer body weight. The Lieutenant shifted the fire of the engines temporarily, pounded that seething pile till it broke up and the Limper regained his feet.
That ploy having failed, a band of the creatures clotted up and tried to break out to the west. I don’t know whether they planned to escape entirely or meant to swing around and strike from behind. The dozen who made it through encountered Whisper, and a heavy fall of the melting dust. The dust killed a half-dozen workers for every castle creature, but it stopped the charge. Only five creatures survived it.
Those five immediately encountered the portal from elsewhere that expelled the cold breath of the infinite. They all perished.
Whisper, meantime, was scrambling for altitude. A drumroll procession of bangs pursued her up the sky. She was a better flyer than Journey, but even so could not evade injury. Down she came, eventually touching down beyond the fortress.
Within the castle itself creatures were out with the cats-o’-nine-tails, extinguishing the fires started by Whisper and the Limper. The structure had begun to look pathetic, so much of its substance had been consumed. Gone was the dark, dreadful grace of weeks before. It was one big, dark, glassy lump, and it seemed impossible that creatures could survive inside it, yet they did, and continued the fight. A handful came out on the ramp and did something which gnawed black chunks out of the Lieutenant’s conflagration. All the creatures on the slope ran for home, not a one forgetting to scoop up at least one body.
The ice door opened again, its breath dumping on the steps. The fires died instantly. A score of the creatures died too, hammered to powder by the Lieutenant’s missiles.
The things inside took a tack I had anticipated fearfully since I had seen Feather crash. They turned their booming spell on the slope.
If it wasn’t the thing that had pursued the Lieutenant, Elmo, One-Eye and me that day, it was a close cousin. There wasn’t much flash or smoke when they used it on the slope, but huge holes appeared, often with bloody pulp smashed into their bottoms.
All this happened so swiftly, so dramatically, that nobody really had time to think. I don’t doubt that even the Company would have run had events been stretched out enough to allow thinking time. As it was, in their confusion, the men had a chance only to pursue roles for which they had been preparing since reaching Juniper. They stood their ground and, too often, died.
The Limper scampered around the slope like an insane chicken, cackling and hunting creatures who hadn’t died on the steps. There were a score of those, most surrounded by angry soldiers. Some of the creatures were slain by their own side, for those knots made tempting targets for the booming spell.
Teams of creatures appeared on the ramparts, assembling devices like the one we’d seen them try to use before. This time there was no Taken above to drop and give them hell.
Not till fool Journey came rushing past the hospital, looking cruelly battered, and stole the Limper’s carpet.
It had been my notion that one Taken could not use another’s vehicle. Not so, apparently, for Journey got the thing aloft and dove upon the castle again, dumping dust and another fire egg. The castle knocked him down again, and despite the tumult, I heard the Limper howling and cursing him for it.
Ever see how a child draws a straight line? None too straight. Something as shaky as a child’s hand scribbled a wobbly line from Duretile to the black castle. It hung against the night like an improbable clothesline, wriggling, of indeterminate color, irridescent. Its tip threw sparks off the obsidian material, like the meeting of flint and steel magnified ten thousand times, generating an actinic glare too intense to view directly. The entire slope was bathed in wild bluish light.
I put aside my instruments and stepped out to better observe, for down in my gut I knew the Lady anchored the nether end of that scrawl, having entered the lists for the first time. She was the big one, the most powerful, and if the castle could be reduced at all, hers was the might that would do it.
The Lieutenant must have been distracted. For a few seconds his fires dwindled. A half-dozen castle creatures went up the steps, dragging two and three corpses apiece. A rush of their compatriots came out to meet the Limper, who was in hot pursuit. My guess is they got twelve bodies inside. Some might not have lost the spark of life entirely.
Chunks flew from the castle where the Lady’s line touched, each blazing with that brilliant light. Thin cracks, in crimson, appeared against the black, spreading slowly. The creatures assembling the devices retreated, were replaced by others trying to lessen the effects of the Lady’s attack. They had no luck. Several were knocked down by missiles from the Lieutenant’s batteries.
The Limper reached the head of the stairs and stood limned against the glow of a section of castle still afire, sword raised high. A giant runt, if you will pardon the contradiction. He is a tiny thing, yet stood huge at that moment. He bellowed, “Follow me!” and charged down the ramp.
To my everlasting amazement, men followed him. Hundreds of men. I saw Elmo and the remnants of his company go roaring up, across, and disappear. Even scores of gutsy citizens decided to take part.
Part of the story of Marron Shed had come out recently, without names or such, but with heavy emphasis on how much wealth he and Raven had garnered. Obviously, the story had been planted against this moment, when a storm of manpower would be needed to subdue the castle. In ensuing minutes the call of wealth led many a man from the Buskin up those steps.
Down on the far side of the castle Whisper reached One-Eye’s camp. One-Eye and his men, of course, had stood to arms, but had taken part in nothing yet. His mine operation had stalled once he was certain there was no way to get around or to breech the substance of the castle.
Whisper brought one of those eggs of fire, planted it against the obsidian exposed by One-Eye’s mine. She set it off and let it gnaw at the fortress’s underbelly.
That, I learned later, had been in the plan for some time. She had done some fancy flying to bring her crippled carpet down near One-Eye so she could carry it out.
Seeing the men pour into the castle, seeing the walls abandoned and being broken up by the Lady, seeing fires burning unchecked, I decided the battle was ours and was all over but the crying. I went back into the hospital and resumed cutting and stitching, setting and just plain shaking my head over men for whom there was nothing I could do. I wished One-Eye weren’t on the far side of the ridge. He’d always been my principal assistant, and I missed him. While I could not denigrate Pockets’ skill, he did not have One-Eye’s talent. Often there was a man beyond my help who could be saved with a little magic.
A whoop and howl told me Journey was back, home from his latest crash and rushing his enemies once more. And not far behind him came those elements of the Company which had been stationed in the Buskin. The Lieutenant met Candy and prevented him from rushing over the ramp. Instead, he manned the perimeter and began rounding up those laborers who could be found still close to the action. He started putting things back together.
The bam! weapon had continued pounding away all along. Now it began to falter. The Lieutenant loudly cursed the fact that there were no carpets to drop fir
e eggs.
There was one. The Lady’s. And I was sure she knew the situation. But she did not abandon her rope of irridescent light. She must have felt it to be more important.
Down in the mine the fire gnawed through the bottom of the fortress. A hole slowly expanded. One-Eye says there is very little heat associated with those flames. The moment Whisper considered it opportune, she led his force into the fortress.
One-Eye says he really considered going, but had a bad feeling about it. He watched the mob charge in, workers and all, then hiked around to our side. He joined me in the hospital and updated me as he worked.
Moments after he arrived, the backside of the castle collapsed. The whole earth rumbled. A long roar rolled down the thousand feet of the back slope. Very dramatic, but to little effect. The castle creatures were not inconvenienced at all.
Parts of the forewall were falling too, broken by the Lady’s incessant attack.
Company members continued to arrive, accompanied by frightened formations of the Duke’s men and even some Custodians rigged out as soldiers. The Lieutenant fed them into his lines. He allowed no one else to enter the castle.
Strange lights and fires, fell howls and noises, and terrible, terrible odors came out of that place. I don’t know what happened in there. Maybe I never will. I gather that hardly anyone came back.
A strange, deep-throated, almost inaudible moaning began. It had me shuddering before I noted it consciously. It climbed in pitch with extreme deliberation, in volume much more rapidly. Soon it shook the whole ridge. It came from everywhere at once. After a while it seemed to have meaning, like speech incredibly slowed. I could detect a rhythm, like words stretched over minutes.
One thought. One thought alone. The Dominator. He was coming through.
For an instant I thought I could interpret the words. “Ardath, you bitch.” But that went away, chased by fear.
Goblin appeared at the hospital, looked us over, and seemed relieved to find One-Eye there. He said nothing, and I got no chance to ask what he had been up to recently. He returned to the night, parting with a wave.
Silent appeared a few minutes later, looking grim. Silent, my partner in guilty knowledge, whom I had not seen in more than a year, whom I had missed during my visit to Duretile. He looked taller, leaner and bleaker than ever. He nodded, began talking rapidly in deaf speech. “There is a ship on the waterfront flying a red banner. Go there immediately.”
“What?”
“Go to the ship with the red banner immediately. Stop only to inform others of the old Company. These are orders from the Captain. They are not to be disobeyed.”
“One-Eye.…”
“I caught it, Croaker,” he said. “What the hell, hey, Silent?”
Silent signed, “There will be trouble with the Taken. This ship will sail to Meadenvil, where loose ends must be tied off. Those who know too much must disappear. Come. We just gather the old brothers and go.”
There weren’t many old brothers around. One-Eye and I hurried around telling everyone we could find, and in fifteen minutes a crowd of us were headed toward the Port River bridge, one as baffled as another. I kept looking back. Elmo was inside the castle. Elmo, who was my best friend. Elmo, who might be taken by the Taken.…
On The Run
Ninety-six men reported aboard, as ordered. A dozen were men for whom the order had not been meant, but who could not be sent away. Missing were a hundred brothers from the old days, before we crossed the Sea of Torments. Some had died on the slopes. Some were inside the castle. Some we hadn’t been able to find. But none of the missing were men who had dangerous knowledge, except Elmo and the Captain.
I was there. Silent, One-Eye and Goblin were there. The Lieutenant was there, more baffled than anyone else. Candy, Otto, Hagop The list goes on and on. They were all there.
But Elmo wasn’t, and the old man wasn’t, and there was a threat of mutiny when Silent passed the word to put out without them. “Orders,” was all he would say, and that in the finger speech many of the men could not follow, though we had been using it for years. It was a legacy Darling had left the Company, a mode of communication useful on the hunt or battlefield.
The moment the ship was under way, Silent produced a sealed letter marked with the Captain’s sign. Silent took the officers present into the cabin of the ship’s master. He instructed me to read the letter aloud.
“You were right about the Taken, Croaker,” I read. “They do suspect, and they do intend to move against the Company. I have done what I can to circumvent them by hiring a ship to take my most endangered brothers to safety. I will not be able to join you, as my absence would alert the Taken. Do not dawdle. I do not expect to last long once they discover your desertion. As you and Goblin can attest, no man hides from the Lady’s Eye.
“I do not know that flight will present much hope. They will hunt you, for they will get things from me unless I am quick on my feet. I know enough to set them on the trail.…”
The Lieutenant interrupted. “What the hell is going on?” He knew there were secrets some of us shared, to which he was not privy, “I’d say we’re past playing games and keeping things from each other.”
I looked at Silent, said, “I think we should tell everybody, just so there’s a chance the knowledge won’t die.”
Silent nodded.
“Lieutenant, Darling is the White Rose.”
“What? But.…”
“Yes. Silent and I have known since the battle at Charm. Raven figured it out first. That’s why he deserted. He wanted to get her as far from the Lady as he could. You know how much he loved her. I think a few others guessed too.”
The announcement did not cause a stir. Only the Lieutenant was surprised. The others had suspected.
The Captain’s letter hadn’t much more to say. Farewells. A suggestion we elect the Lieutenant to replace him. And a final, private word to me.
“Circumstances seem to have dictated a shift to the option you mentioned, Croaker. Unless you can outrun the Taken back to the south.” I could hear the sardonic chuckle that went with the comment.
One-Eye wanted to know what had become of the Company treasure chest. Way, way back in our service to the Lady we had grabbed off a fortune in coin and gems. It had traveled with us through the years, through good times and bad—our final, secret insurance against tomorrow.
Silent told us it was up in Duretile with the old man. There had been no chance to get it out.
One-Eye broke down and wept. That chest meant more to him than all vicissitudes past, present or promised.
Goblin got down on him. Sparks flew. The Lieutenant was about to take a hand when someone shoved through the door. “You guys better come topside and see this.” He was gone before we could find out what he meant.
We hurried up to the main deck.
The ship was a good two miles down the Port, riding the current and tide. But the glow from the black castle illuminated both us and Juniper as brightly as a cloudy day.
The castle formed the base of a fountain of fire reaching miles into the sky. A vast figure twisted in the flames. Its lips moved. Long, slow words echoed down the Port. “Ardath. You bitch.”
I had been right.
The figure’s hand rose slowly, lazily, pointed toward Duretile.
“They got enough bodies inside,” Goblin squeaked. “The old bastard is coming through.”
The men watched in rapt awe. So did I, able only to think we were lucky to escape in time. At the moment I felt nothing for the men we had left behind. I could think only of myself.
“There,” somebody said softly. “Oh, look there.”
A ball of light formed on Duretile’s wall. It swelled rapidly, shedding many colors. It was gorgeous, like a giant moon of stained glass rotating slowly. It was at least two hundred yards in diameter when it separated from Duretile and drifted toward the black castle. The figure there reached, grabbed at the globe, was unable to affect it.
I
giggled.
“What’s so damned funny?” the Lieutenant demanded.
“Just thinking how the people of Juniper must feel, looking up at that. They’ve never seen sorcery.”
The stained glass ball rolled over and over. For a moment it presented a side I hadn’t noticed before. A side that was a face. The Lady’s face. Those great glassy eyes stared right into me, hurting. Without thinking I said, “I didn’t betray you. You betrayed me.”
Swear to the gods there was some form of communication. Something in the eyes said she had heard, and was pained by the accusation. Then the face rolled away, and I did not see it again.
The globe drifted into the fountain of fire. It vanished there. I thought I heard the long, slow voice say, “I have you, Ardath.”
“There. Look there,” the same man said, and we turned to Duretile. And upon the wall where the Lady had begun moving toward her husband there was another light. For a while I could not make out what was happening. It came our way, faltering, rising, falling.
“That’s the Lady’s carpet,” Silent signed. “I have seen it before.”
“But who?…” There was no one left who could fly one. The Taken were all over at the black castle.
The thing began to move faster, converting rickety up-and-down into ever-increasing velocity. It came our way, faster and faster, dropping lower and lower.
“Somebody who doesn’t know what they’re doing,” One-Eye opined. “Somebody who is going to get killed if.…”
It came directly toward us, now not more than fifty feet off the water. The ship had begun the long turn which would take her around the last headland to the open sea. I said, “Maybe it was sent to hit us. Like a missile. To keep us from getting away.”
“No,” One-Eye said. “Carpets are too precious. Too hard to create and maintain. And the Lady’s is the only one left. Destroy it and even she would have to walk home.”