Soldiers Live

by Glen Cook

  I needed not die to get sent to hell. I had an instant to pick which torture I wanted to suffer for the rest of my existence.

  I slapped Booboo with my bad hand. She did not let up. I punched her. She rocked. Blood gushed from her nose. She did not ease up on the yellow silk cloth. I drew the dagger that is with me all the time, that normally gets used only when I am eating. I reached out and pricked the skin right under her left eye.

  And still she did not stop.

  The white crow said, “This is Kina’s revenge, Croaker.”

  Which hell?

  Lady was almost gone.

  I stabbed the girl in the arm.

  She hardly even bled.

  I stabbed again, trying for the elbow joint.

  No good.

  I tried to cut the tendons in her wrists.

  All the while Arkana was still trying to pull her off from behind or to break her grip on the silk cloth or to cut that cloth.

  I launched as violent a blow as I could manage. When that did nothing but rock the girl’s head back again I lost control. As the saying goes, I saw red.

  When Arkana finally stopped me I had stabbed my own daughter more than twenty times. I had not killed her, though. Yet. But she had given up her hold on the strangling cloth.

  Possibly too late. Lady was hacking and gasping, still choking. I got down and started trying to clear her windpipe. There seemed to be some damage to her larynx.

  Arkana remained calm. She summoned help.

  “Where did Booboo get the strangling scarf?” I asked. “She didn’t have it before we went south.” She had been stripped naked, scrubbed down, and dressed in new clothing. Then she had been placed in this room. So someone had brought her the rumel. A secret Deceiver. “We need to find out exactly who visited her.” I did not want it to be Suruvhija, though she was instantly the logical suspect. Except for the fact that she was a woman. Hitherto, my wife and daughter had been the only women we knew to have been admitted to the secret brotherhood.

  Still, this was a time of great changes. Suruvhija’s sorrow and slowness of wit could be an act.

  They do not call them Deceivers for nothing.

  139

  Taglios:

  The Great General

  The villain was not a Deceiver after all. He did not understand what a Deceiver was. He being Suruvhija’s son Bhijar, whom Booboo had pulled in with her “love me” effect, working him only when no one else was around. She had sent him to a secret member of the Strangler brotherhood. He had gotten the killing scarf there. That had happened while we were in the air, coming home from the glittering plain.

  The boy received only what punishment his mother thought was appropriate. The Deceiver who supplied the rumel, though, soon went the way of his Goddess. Along with a number of friends. There would be no mercy for Stranglers until the last was dead.

  While others rooted out the truth I stayed busy with Lady and Booboo. I soon realized that I did not have the skills to save either. I summoned the best physicans from the Land of Unknown Shadows. To a man they told me what I did not want to hear.

  Sorcery was the only hope for either woman. And Tobo was the only one with a command of the appropriate sorcery. Arkana and Shukrat could not help much. They knew little about the healing arts.

  I told Suvrin, “Regardless of my personal motives, the boy is one of us. We can’t leave him in a Taglian cell.”

  Suvrin had a little too much of the politician in him. Too much of the kind of mind willing to let an individual go so the rest will not be inconvenienced. He wanted to avoid a confrontation with Aridatha Singh.

  I continued, “You do need to get into the Annals, Captain. You need to understand completely what it means to be a brother of the Black Company.”

  “Maybe I do. Until I do I’ll run things the way I am now.”

  I did not argue. I had not expected any other answer. I met Shukrat outside, shook my head. She tested her sleep spell on the men Suvrin sent after me to make sure I behaved. That spell worked perfectly.

  Shukrat and I went looking for the Great General.

  Arkana kindly flew high cover.

  We were going to bust Tobo out.

  The flaw in that plan was, we did not know where Tobo was being held.

  So we had to go ask Aridatha. Being more careful than Tobo had been when it came to invading the Great General’s quarters. Shukrat prepared the way with her sleep spell. It all started out so well I was hard pressed not to look on the dark side and expect a trap.

  Singh was not easy to handle unconscious. At least not easy for a gimp old man and a mite of a teenage girl. Nevertheless, we got him aboard my post before he was missed, then took him way up high into the clouds, and through, into the moonlight.

  I had Shukrat wake him up.

  “We need to talk, Aridatha. And you need to stay calm while we do. Because it’s almost a mile down to the ground.”

  Singh was a cool one. He collected himself. “What do you want?”

  “Tobo. Where is he? I’m asking, counting on you to continue being concerned about Taglios. About what new fighting would do to the city.”

  Singh did not say anything.

  I told him, “You’re doing a good job of riding the tiger. But that tiger is going to get a chance to run wild if I end up having to drop your ass from a mile up in the sky.”

  He considered that, suspecting that I might not be bluffing. “You could start a new war.”

  “You could.”

  “The man tried to assassinate me.”

  “He won’t do that again,” Shukrat told him. “We’re going to have a talk, Tobo and me. When we’re done he’ll stop doing stupid things forever.” She did not sound like she had any doubts. She did make it sound like Tobo had a surprise coming.

  I said, “To lay your mind at rest, it won’t trouble me a bit if we get into a new fight with you people. I don’t have much left to live for. I can burn Taglios to the ground without compunction. Unlike some, I don’t love the place. It’s done nothing to win my heart.”

  Arkana said, “If he kills you there won’t be anyone to look out for the Radisha.” The Radisha had become regent despite tradition because Aridatha Singh insisted. Strongly. And nobody wanted to argue with the Great General. Even out in the provinces resistance to the new order seemed to be weakening, almost as if it was just too much trouble to fight over all of this when things were going so well otherwise.

  Arkana did not give a rat’s ass about the Radisha’s welfare. She just wanted Aridatha to survive this incident.

  “Just tell us where Tobo is,” I said. “Shukrat and I will bring him out.” Slowly, slowly, I tilted my post forward. Timing its arrival well, a gap in the clouds appeared below, allowing the moonlight to get through and reflect off the surface of the river. We discovered that, when he could actually see how high he was, Aridatha Singh had a fear of heights. It proved to be one of those fears which evades reason’s control.

  We set him down on the north bank of the river. Arkana stayed with him. I wondered if she would find the nerve to betray her interest.

  140

  Taglios:

  Brain Surgery

  Before Tobo could help me with my women, I, with the help of the best physicians and surgeons among the Children of the Dead, had to bring him back from his head wound. His Taglian captors had done nothing for him. He was two-thirds of the way down the path to a lonely grave.

  There were no other Nyueng Bao with the Company anymore. The handful who had reached Taglios with us had stolen away to their native swamps soon afterward.

  Tobo required delicate surgery to clear a dozen dangerous bone chips off the surface of his brain. I did most of the work myself, using my fellow surgeons as my other hand. The job took twelve hours. Shukrat was there every second. Sometimes I thought the ghost of the boy’s mother was looking over my shoulder.

  I collapsed moments after we finished, my physical and emotional reserves utterly spent.
Some kind souls saw to it that I got into a bed.

  141

  Taglios:

  Family Matters

  It had to be afternoon. Storm season thunder rocked the old Greys barracks. The roaring hiss of the deluge ate up almost all other sound. The air was cool to the point of feeling nippy. I told myself to enjoy the cool while I could. Once the rain stopped the heat would return. And the air would be damp enough to steam vegetables.

  A whole different, pounding roar developed as wild winds began to slam and kick the barracks. Hail had begun to fall. Heavily. The streets would be filling with Taglian children determined to harvest the ice. Some surely would be injured by large hailstones. It happened frequently.

  Shukrat came in. She did not look cheerful. Suruvhija followed her, bringing food and drink.

  I asked, “How bad is it? Is it infection?”

  Shukrat was puzzled for a moment. “Oh. No. Tobo is all right. He was even awake for a minute a little while ago.”

  So. The way she did not go on told me where the real problem lay.

  When I jumped up, nearly injuring myself in my haste, she barked, “Take it easy! Getting in a dangerous hurry won’t help.” And, when I failed to calm myself enough to suit her, “You won’t be fit to help anybody if you show up emotionally too ragged to cope.”

  She was right. An old man like me, in my professions, got plenty of exposure to that truth. Not only fear, but most emotion, is the mind killer. We do stupid things when we let emotion take over. Then we are forced to endure the consequences for the rest of our days.

  I took deep breaths and drank cold water. I told myself I could handle even the worst news because I have been dealing with bad news all my life. “Lead on,” I told Shukrat.

  Soldiers live. Bad news is part of the life.

  Arkana and the white crow were with Lady and Booboo when I arrived. Suruvhija had gotten there ahead of me. She slipped out right away, with a murmur of gratitude for excusing her son from the worst consequences of his actions.

  It was not a good day for me physically either. I was having to use my cane.

  Both of my women were lying on their backs, making no noise. I saw no immediate cue as to what the crisis might be. The crow paced back and forth on a shelf above Lady’s cot. Arkana perched on a chair beside my daughter.

  I went to my wife first.

  Lady was breathing. Barely. And having to work extremely hard at it, gasping and fighting for every breath. I groaned. “I may have to cut her throat open below the obstruction.” The operation might save her life but her vanity would be sorely tested. The results are never pretty.

  I felt relieved as I turned to the girl. And guilty, because I felt so much relief.

  Soldiers live.

  Booboo was gone. But it had only just happened.

  That ripped my guts out.

  Arkana told me, “There was someone with her every minute, Pop. It was like she just didn’t want to make it.” She made me take the chair.

  “Oh, I understand that part. She didn’t have any reason to go on. We took everything that meant anything away from her. But knowing she wanted out, in here,” and I tapped my temple, “doesn’t do anything to stop the bleeding in here,” tapping my chest. I drew a deep breath, let it go in a long sigh. “Tell Suruvhija to come back in.”

  Once the little Shadar woman returned, I told her, “Buy as much ice as you can get. I want to pack my daughter in ice.” I touched Booboo. She was still warmer than the surrounding air.

  Shukrat asked, “What’s up? What’re you going to do?”

  “I’m going to take her down to the ice cave.” We had to go back to get the Children of the Dead back across the plain and to keep our word to Shivetya. Maybe sooner was better than later.

  The white crow made a little sound, simply a device for getting my attention.

  I said, “She’s first in my heart. If that’s what it takes to save her, then I’ll put her down there with you, too.”

  Suruvhija was gone. I hoped she got no grief trying to buy ice. If anyone tried to keep her from getting the money I would be tempted to break some bones.

  I did not reflect on what my response, as Captain, would have been toward an underling with my present attitude. The Words Immortal are: That Was Different.

  The first ice arrived not much later. Booboo had chosen the perfect time and season to die. We bundled her in a quarter ton of hailstones, inside heavy blankets, which we sewed shut. Lady’s flying post, slaved to Arkana’s, was just able to hoist the weight.

  The fly of indecision bit me. I wanted to get the girl into the safety of the cavern before nature had its way. But I did not want to be away from Tobo and my wife and run the risk of disaster here.

  Shukrat assured me, “I’ll damned well make sure Tobo is all right. And as soon as he’s able I’ll have him help Lady. If you’re not back. Now go. Do what you have to do.”

  “Come on, Pop,” Arkana told me. “Once we put on some altitude that ice isn’t going to melt nearly so fast.”

  “Yeah. Shukrat. If anything happens... get more ice. Come on down. Maybe Shivetya can help.”

  Before we left I did have to visit Suvrin, to let him know what was going on and arrange it so he would know what to do if the fates ordained that this was the time when Croaker would not be coming back.

  Even when you fly with the wind it takes a long time to get from Taglios to the fortress with no name. It seems to take forever when worry is your most intimate traveling companion. The white crow was not good for much of anything but an emergency source of provender. Arkana was a dutiful daughter, more helpful than she needed to be, but she was just too young. Most of her earnest conversation seemed so naive, or even foolish, that it became hard to recall a time when I was that age, still idealistic and hurling myself at life headlong, believing that truth and right must inevitably triumph.

  I kept my opinions to myself. After everything she had suffered already Arkana did not deserve to have her surviving optimism skewered by my bitter cynicisms.

  Perhaps her youthful shallowness was useful as a shield. It might help her shake off those early traumas. I have known people like that, who live only in the present moment.

  142

  Glittering Stone:

  Bitter Desserts

  Soon after we placed Booboo in the cave of the ancients, a scant few yards from her aunt, I was stricken by a series of horrible thoughts.

  What got me nervous in the first place was the way the imprisoned Soulcatcher’s gaze seemed to follow me everywhere as we brought the girl in and settled her, while Arkana set the stasis spells on her — as relayed to her by the white crow.

  Paranoia struck deep.

  Soulcatcher had control of the bird. And she knew all the ins and outs of the sorcery necessary to lock someone into the ice caverns — or to release a prisoner. She could let herself go.

  The bird was not right there when that thought hit me. Else she would have known that I had realized the possibility. I covered up before it noticed.

  I stood in the weak, sourceless, pale cold light and stared for a long time, without really seeing. My baby. Hard to believe.

  “I never knew you, darling.” A tear rolled down. I thought of all the cold, hard men I had known and wondered what they would think if they could see me now, having turned into a maudlin old man.

  They might be envious of the fact that I had hung around long enough to become an old man.

  The white crow came flapping in from wherever it had been, landed on my right shoulder. Wings slapped my face, stinging. “Goddamnit!” It had not taken the liberty before.

  I do not know how long I wallowed in self-pity before the bird stirred me. Far longer than I realized at the time. The crow brought me back to this world of real trials and deep pain. “Arkana. We’d better head back now.” My separation from Lady would be more than a week long before we reached Taglios.

  It was going to be longer than that.

  A
rkana did not respond.

  “Arkana?”

  Arkana was not there.

  The flying posts were not there.

  Emotion is the mind killer.

  In my worry about my women I had forgotten that my adopted daughter was the one Voroshk with a brain. The one who had said she was going to bide her time and pick her moment.

  That moment had come and gone, it seemed. There was nobody down in that cavern but me and the scruffy white bird.

  She had not been completely cruel. She took the key to the shadowgates so the gimp old man had no way to get away but she did not make him climb all the way up out of that hole. Only part of the way. She left my flying post just far enough up to give herself a few hours’ head start. Just long enough that I had no chance to catch her.

  Shivetya manna makes a tiresome diet, however good you feel for the first few hours after you eat. Self-pity and self-accusation make bitter desserts. And a crow haunted by your oldest and dearest enemy makes for a somewhat less than ideal partner in exile.

  After the anger faded and the despair subsided I helped myself to Baladitya’s writing materials and went to work on bringing the Annals up to date.

  There was no time in that place so I do not know how long that took. It seemed longer than it probably was. I began to worry because nobody came to see why we had failed to return. I feared that meant there was no one who could come. The most likely someones who might not be able to come being Tobo or Lady.

  But Shukrat was healthy. How come she did not show up?

  With no one else there I found myself talking to the crow more and more. And more as time went by, in an effort to defeat the gathering despair.

  Shivetya watched from his huge wooden throne, evidently amused by my predicament. While I was amused by Soulcatcher’s.

  She did have the knowledge to get herself out of the ice cavern. She just did not have the hands. And I thought that was delicious.