by Glen Cook
Her campaign against the Deceiver messiah and the Goblin-thing was much like the Great General’s against her.
Swan reminded her, “We have official Deceiver titles for those two now.” A fact one of the hidden folk had discovered in far Asharan, of all places, just before Tobo’s departure. Asharan was a small city to the southwest unlikely to have any impact on any events unless through its band of Deceivers. “Khadidas. Khadidasa.” Slave of Khadi. Or Kina. “Is that one or both of them?”
“Those are the male and female forms. One for each.”
“Willow, that girl won’t be called a slave by anybody. She has the same blood as her mother and aunt. Daughter of Night suits her just fine.”
Swan shrugged, departed. Tobo had said that there was no love lost between the girl and the Khadidas. That, in fact, they tended to bicker. That, further, the girl had begun to appear almost disillusioned.
The Great General’s cavalry continued to harass Sleepy’s scouts and pickets. Skirmishes popped up everywhere. Commercial traffic dwindled on the Rock Road. Sizable troops of horse probed the brigade deployed to screen the Company force. They were mostly Vehdna. Vehdna had a tradition of being excellent horsemen. These horsemen showed well against Hsien’s professional infantry. Sleepy brought the other brigade out of camp and handed the backup role off to the native recruits.
“I’m getting worried,” Swan told Sleepy.
“It must be escalating. You were just concerned before.”
“Exactly my point. Why is Mogaba working so hard to make us think he’s working up to a straightforward attack? Why is he trying to force a response?”
“Because he wants to see what we’ll do. Unless he’s trying to distract us from something else. Any chance he could’ve made a deal with the Deceivers?”
“Narayan Singh’s son is one of his cronies.”
That struck a spark. “Aridatha Singh is no Deceiver! Nor is he a Deceiver stooge.”
“All right. Don’t get excited.”
Moments later, though, it became clear that it was time for everybody to get excited about something, fast. The unexpected and deadly happened.
Mogaba’s cavalry faded away. They were replaced by the infantry of Mogaba’s Second Territorial division, as numerous as Sleepy’s whole army. The Taglians drove straight into the defending force, hurling them back, while the cavalry began to leak around the ends of the friendly line.
Sleepy had messengers flying around and horns blaring before it became entirely clear that this time Mogaba was not just teasing. She snapped at Swan, “We have to keep them from getting inside the camp. Whatever that costs.”
“I’ll handle that,” Swan replied, though he was no official member of the heirarchy. “I’ll use the recruits. You grab anyone else you can find.” He sprinted away. If Mogaba captured the camp he would gain control of the treasure that had come down off the glittering plain. That might win his war for him right here, right now.
Swan began sorting the confusion in the camp as soon as he located the Hsien sergeants in charge of training. He announced that the enemy had launched a reconnaissance in force. Some elements might try to reach the camp.
Once he had the recruits assembled facing toward the enemy, Swan sent trusted men to move the treasure into hiding inside the old Shadowlander military cemetery. And well he did, too. Mogaba’s attack was much more vigorous than expected. When it reached the camp the recruits did not long withstand it. They allowed elements of Mogaba’s force to get into the camp itself.
All did not go well for the Great General, though. Soon after his own division caught the attention of his enemies, a second was supposed to rush forward east of the Rock Road, to catch the disorganized troops rushing back from the Grove of Doom to help Sleepy. The commander of that force, not sure if he was being led into a clever trap himself, vacillated until his attack had no chance of attaining success. Shortly he would find himself free to pursue new career opportunities. Many lesser officers would join him.
On the extreme left Aridatha Singh launched his attack exactly on schedule. Its initial goal was to occupy the Grove of Doom. Then it was supposed to carry on southward and westward and cut the enemy’s line of withdrawal. But before Aridatha’s force was well into the maneuver he received a dispatch from Mogaba directing him to pull back. The enemy had collected himself. A counterattack was expected shortly. Mogaba feared that if Sleepy discovered Aridatha she would cut him off and exterminate his division. Aridatha was a novice on the battlefield.
85
The Grove of Doom:
A Big Surprise
The Daughter of Night was ready to scream with the boredom and psychic oppression of life in the Grove of Doom. Life with Narayan had not been perfect but she had understood it. Life with the Khadidas was intolerable. The possessed little man was insufferable. Every day, all day, there were lessons. Almost always about things she already knew. Unless it was philosophical stuff about how she ought to give herself up completely to the will of Kina. About how she should strive to rid herself of even the most stubborn tatters of personality and become nothing but a vessel for Kina, not the Daughter of Night anymore but the Khadidasa.
The Khadidas droned his arguments at her while she sat with arms around shins, chin on her knees, on the steps of the Deceiver temple. Visiting Deceiver pilgrims came and went, cleaning the temple. She paid no attention. She was recalling more than one other time when she had been right here with Papa Narayan. Looking back, those days seemed almost a normal family life, now.
She began to replay thoughts from times past, immediately became restless, and wondered why. She had not thought of men in that way since she had heard about Narayan’s death.
Someone came down from the temple, passed by her. He set himself to fling a pail of dirty water. There was a solid thump. The bucket man made a startled little squeak and toppled backward. He fell on the steps beside the girl, looking up at his messiah from amazed eyes. She watched the light fade from them.
An arrow stood out of his chest. It had struck him through the heart. The girl did not notice the colorful markings on the shaft, which identified not only the archer’s unit but the bowman as well. She started to look around. Thumps and cries surrounded her. Arrows hissed close and thumped behind her as they found her new companion. She started to dig inside, to release the “love me” effect. A blunt arrow struck her squarely in the breastbone. A second struck her lower. She pitched forward, trying to puke up her ankle-bones.
The first few arrows seemed not to inconvenience the Khadidas at all. But they kept coming. And coming. And then there were Taglian soldiers all over. A high officer shouted, “Cut off the heads. We’ll take them with us. Leave the bodies in the boneyard. For the ravens.”
Another officer strode toward the Daughter of Night. The other Taglians all deferred to him. The girl’s first response was to notice that he was incredibly handsome. Then she recalled having seen him before, years ago, when she had been a captive of the Black Company. He had been brought to see Narayan. “My brother Aridatha,” she gasped out. “It seems my fate is to spend life as a prisoner.” She continued to clutch her stomach. A huge Shadar soldier stood over her, ready to club her at the first hint of anything untoward.
The Taglian officer was startled but only for a moment. He grasped the part about being her brother. “You’re the Daughter of Night. It’s my job to make sure you don’t fulfill your destiny.” He eyed the thing lying beside her, motionless now but not dead. In the conventional sense. He had met Goblin that night, too.
“That is the Khadidas now,” she said. “Not the wizard. It’s not dead. And you can’t kill it. It has the Goddess in it.”
The Taglian made swift gestures. Soldiers bound the Goblin thing, then stuffed it into a hemp sack — after yanking the arrows out of its flesh. “I wouldn’t count on that.”
“Kina is in him.”
“Suppose I chop him into little pieces, Booboo? Then have my men burn the piece
s at places separated by a hundred miles. I didn’t know my father and I certainly don’t honor what he was. But, even so, that creature murdered him.”
“What did you call me?”
“Eh? You mean Booboo?”
“Yes. That. Why did you do that?” She forced herself to look away from what was happening to the martyred Deceivers as she forced her mind away from the accusation leveled against the Khadidas.
“Your mother and father and everyone in the Black Company who cares about you calls you Booboo. Because it isn’t as unwieldy as ‘the Daughter of Night.’ Come on. Get up. I have to keep these men moving. No tricks, either. If you misbehave you’ll get hurt. These men are very scared of you.”
A twinge of surprise ran through the girl. They were concerned enough about her to have a pet name for her? Narayan had not dared go that far, though she knew that he had been devoted to her.
Despite Aridatha’s warning she tried to turn on the “love me” effect. It would not come. She could not tell if that was because she was so rattled or because of the Khadidas. The Goblin thing had shown the ability to interfere with her before, usually when she was not conforming to the standards it set.
For an instant she hoped her captors would shred the Khadidas and roast the scraps in a hundred scattered trash pits. Then she forced her personal feelings aside. This was no time. This was the time to concentrate on making sure she and the Khadidas survived until they found their opportunity to begin their great work.
That that chance would come she did not doubt. Kina would find a way. Kina always did. Kina was the darkness. And the darkness always came.
The girl remained completely docile and cooperative. She could not help noticing how restless she became each time the handsome general came near her. But he was too busy to notice her. He had received orders changing his mission.
86
Beside the Cemetery:
More Confusion
There’s another division out there, east of the Rock Road somewhere,” Swan told Sleepy and her staff. “My impression is that it was supposed to push past and get behind us. But it suddenly turned back north. Without us taking prisoners or getting help from the hidden folk we’ll never know why.”
The Unknown Shadows became a hot topic. There were a few still around but they would not be bullied into helping. Tobo had not told them to help.
Tempers did not improve during the discussion. Everyone was tired, cranky and impatient. Sleepy in particular. With no solid evidence whatsoever she was beginning to believe that Mogaba had gotten the best of her yet again. And the thing was not over yet.
The Great General had not yet broken contact entirely. He seemed willing to continue skirmishing indefinitely.
Swan told everyone, “I think we did well. The casualty ratio ran in our favor, certainly.”
Sleepy snapped, “But, strategically, Mogaba must be celebrating. He’s pleased with what he accomplished.” She had no way of knowing any such thing, of course. She knew only that she was not pleased. Mogaba had surprised her again.
She overlooked the fact that she had managed to drive off a much superior force once the fighting started, that Mogaba might have been too subtle and clever for his own good.
Willow Swan did not overlook that. He said, “Mogaba may be back. Once he understands that he did surprise us and could’ve rolled over us if he’d just charged in without all the maneuvering.”
Heads bobbed. One brigadier noted that were he in charge on the other side he would attack again even if he thought his enemies expected him. He would do it just to see what would happen. And to build in the minds of the attacked a belief that they had to stay alert. Keeping ready to repel an attack would grind a force down after several days.
Sahra wandered in. Late and uninterested in the discussion. To no one in particular she said, “It’s started to rain.”
Because that was important news that might have a serious impact on operations, Swan stepped out for a look.
The sky was overcast. The smell of rain was in the air. But it was not raining now and did not look likely to start until well after nightfall, which was only a short while away. Swan went back inside shaking his head.
That Sahra might have been speaking figuratively or metaphorically became evident a short while later, when a patrol brought in news that the Grove of Doom had been cleansed of Deceivers.
“Even of the Daughter of Night and the Goblin thing?” Sleepy demanded.
“We didn’t find their bodies, Captain. And there were plenty of bodies there. All with their heads missing. Maybe those two managed to escape.”
“Maybe. I wish Tobo would get the hell back here. I really hate this being blind.”
“You’re totally spoiled,” Swan told her.
“And loving every minute of it. Tso Lien. More work for your recon people. Find out what happened. And find out if we can run anybody down. Keeping in mind that it would please Mogaba no end to lead us into a lethal trap.”
“It shall be done, my Captain.”
Swan sneered at Tso Lien’s flowery response. The man hailed from a province where styles of speech were as important as what was being said. He was another of those fiercely competent professional officers who had wanted to shed the feudal chains of Hsien in hopes of making his fortune.
Swan wondered if the men from the Land of Unknown Shadows might not begin concentrating more on staying alive than on winning a war. Their future fortunes were in Company hands already, hidden in that cemetery.
87
Glittering Stone:
Fortress with No Name
Oh, so alert the observing eyes when Lady and I opened the shadowgate. I tossed in several unnecessary steps just for drama and confusion. Then we were moving again, flickering southward along the shielded road toward Shivetya’s great wintry fastness.
The entire plain seemed a chill, grey, wintry place, lacking all glitter. The standing stones seemed old and tired and not much interested in making any effort to proclaim the glories of the past. I did not spot any new ones. Not once did the wind grow warmer than the heart of a loan shark. We saw patches of ice and snow.
Tobo suggested the plain was getting its weather from somewhere where the season was less comfortable than our own.
“You think?” I said. “With the Khatovar gate busted completely?” There was no sense of menace to the plain today. Could the shadows have become that few?
Shukrat said, “Only, it would be the heart of summertime at home, now.”
I grunted. I adjusted my flying log to make more speed. The kids had no trouble keeping up. I heard Lady curse in the distance as Howler’s carpet fell behind. Howler could not hurry because his conveyance nearly filled the protected area. He had to be cautious.
As we neared Shivetya’s fortress, Tobo shouted, “It’s safe to go up now!” He and Shukrat shot toward the sun. Or where the sun would have stood had the weather not been vile.
“Don’t you dare!” Murgen barked.
“Too late, buddy. Hang on.” I was rising already, though not with the derring-do of some immortal teenager. When Murgen squawked I said, “You don’t like the ride, get off and walk.”
In moments we had a god’s-eye view of the glittering plain.
It was not a view I had seen before, nor was it one I had heard described. From a half mile up the plain resembled the floor inside the main chamber of the fortress. That did not surprise me. But the plain’s boundaries did.
Each of the sixteen sectors centered on a shadowgate. Each had its own weather, season and time of day, which became obscured and confused approaching the midway points between shadowgates.
“It’s like looking at the rest of the universe from inside a crystal ball,” Murgen said.
“How come you never mentioned that it looks like this?”
“Because I never saw it like this. Maybe from the ghost realm you can’t see this.”
From up there color came to the plain. Never before had I
seen so much color in the place of glittering stone.
Tobo and Shukrat shot past us, headed down, whooping with glee. I said, “Fun time is over.” Howler’s carpet had come into view, creeping along the line of the road down from our own world’s shadowgate.
We entered the fortress through a hole in its roof. That seemed the only damage that never repaired itself. Maybe the guardian demon found a hole more useful than a dry floor. Certainly he had no cares about weather.
Although it was daytime outside, our agent on the scene, ancient Baladitya, was napping. These days he probably spent more time snoozing then he spent awake.
By the time Murgen and I set down, Shukrat was involved in a bitter argument with Nashun the Researcher and the First Father. She and the Voroshk sorcerers used their native tongue, of course, but exact words were of no consequence. At heart the squabble was as old as humanity itself, fug-headed antiques locking horns with omniscient youth.
“Smells in here,” Murgen observed.
It flat-out stank. Evidently the Voroshk were waiting for the serving staff to clean up after them. “Guess Shivetya doesn’t have a sense of smell. If I was him I’d stop feeding them till they learned to take care of their chores.” Baladitya, I noted, kept up his share of the housework despite tendencies toward absentmindedness and single-mindedness.
The racket raised by Shukrat and her relatives finally disrupted the copyist’s snores.
Baladitya was a hairy old scarecrow desperately in need of a change of clothing. His ragged apparel was all that he had ever worn in my experience. He was almost as bad as the Howler, although less densely wrapped.