I took the outfit to the waterfront before the sun got its rump over the hills beyond the river. The city remained somnolent, except for traffic headed the way we were. The nearer the river the worse it got. And the waterfront was a frenzied hive.
There were crows.
“Looks like they’ve been at it all night,” I said. “Which one is it, One-Eye?”
“That big one over there.”
I headed the direction he pointed. The barge was a monster, all right. It was a giant wooden shoe of a thing meant mainly to drift with the current. Travel would be slow on a fat, sluggish river like this. “It looks new.”
We moved in an island of silence and stares. I tried to read the faces of the laborers we passed. I saw little but a slight wariness. I noted a few armed men, as big as my visitors of yesterday, boarding some of the lesser barges. I eyed the stevedores marching aboard our craft. “Why the lumber, do you suppose?”
“My idea,” One-Eye said. “It’s to build mantlets. The only protection from missile fire they had was wicker screens. I’m surprised they listened and went to the bother and expense. Maybe they took me up on all my suggestions. We’re set if they did.”
“I’m not surprised.” I was now sure that not only had our arrival been foreseen, it had been calculated into the schemes of an entire city. That pirate infestation was more than a nuisance. These folks meant to hammer it down using a band of expendable adventurers.
I did not understand why they thought they had to run a game on us. That was our trade. And we had to go down that river anyway.
Maybe it was the way the society worked. Maybe they could not believe the truth.
With Frogface’s help it took about six minutes to straighten out the bargemaster and the committee of bigwigs waiting with him. I wrangled the promise of a huge fee on top of our passage. “We go to work as soon as we see the money,” I told them. Lo. It appeared almost magically.
One-Eye told me, “You could have held them up.”
“They’re desperate,” I agreed. “Must be something they have to get through. Let’s get to work.”
“Don’t you want to know what?”
“It doesn’t matter. We’re going anyway.”
“Maybe. But I’ll have Frogface look around.”
“Whatever.” I toured the main deck. Otto and Hagop tagged along. We talked upgraded defensibility. “We need a better idea of what we’re up against. We want to be prepared for pirate tactics. For example, we might set up engines behind the mantlets if they attack from small boats.”
I paused along the wharf side rail. It was obvious a convoy would follow our barge, which as obviously had been constructed to lead the way. Never would they get it back upriver. It had only enough oars to keep it pointed the right direction.
There were crows over the chaos. I ignored them. I had begun to suspect I was obsessed.
Then I spied an island of emptiness against a warehouse wall. People avoided it without noting what they were doing. A vague shape stood in shadow. Crows fluttered up and down.
I felt like someone was staring at me. Was it my imagination? No one else saw the damned crows. “Time I found out what the hell is going on. One-Eye! I need to borrow your new pet.”
I told Frogface to go over and take a gander. He went. And in a minute he was back, giving me a funny look. “What was I supposed to see, Captain?”
“What did you see?”
“Nothing.”
I looked over there. Nothing was what I saw now. But then I spotted the three big guys who had tried to talk to me yesterday. They had a bunch of cousins with them, getting in the way. They were watching our barge. I presumed they were interested in us still. “Got a translating job for you, runt.”
The biggest guy’s name was Mogaba. Him and his buddies wanted to sign on with the Company. He said there were more at home like them if I would have them. Then he claimed a right. He told me that all the big men I saw wandering around with sharp steel were descendants of the Black Company men who had served Gea-Xle in olden times. They were the Nar, the military caste of the city. I got the impression that to them I was something holy, the real Captain, a demigod.
“What do you think?” I asked One-Eye.
“We could use guys like them. Look at them. Monsters. Take all you can get if they’re for real.”
“Can Frogface find out?”
“You bet.” He instructed the imp, sent him scooting.
“Croaker.”
I jumped. I had not heard One-Eye coming. “What?”
“Those Nar are the real thing. Tell him, Frogface.” The imp piped away in that high Goblin voice. The Nar were indeed descendants of our forebrethren. They did form a separate caste, a warrior cult built around the myths the Company left behind. They kept their own set of Annals and observed the ancient traditions better than we did. Then Frogface hit me with the kicker.
Somebody called Eldon the Seer, a famous local wizard, foretold our coming months ago, about the time we were crossing those shaggy-backed hills headed for D’loc Aloc. The Nar (a word meaning black) had initiated a series of contests and trials to select the best man of each hundred to rejoin the father standard and make the pilgrimage to Khatovar. If we would have them.
Eldon the Seer had deciphered our mission from afar, too.
I do not like it when things are going on that I do not understand. Understand?
Mogaba was chosen commander of the delegation by virtue of being the champion of the caste.
While the Nar prepared for a holy hadj the lords and merchants of Gea-Xle began setting up to use us to break through a pirate blockade that had become impenetrable in recent years.
The great hope from the north. That was us.
“I don’t know what to say,” I told One-Eye.
“I’ll tell you one thing, Croaker. You aren’t going to be able to tell those Nar guys no.”
I did not have that inclination. These pirates, about whom nobody would say much, sounded increasingly nasty. Somewhere down the line, without it having been stated explicitly, I had come on the notion that they had big magic they could call out when the going got hairy. “Why not?”
“Those guys are serious, Croaker. Religious serious. They’d do something crazy like throw themselves on their swords because the Captain found them inadequate to march with the Company.”
“Come on.”
“Really. I mean it. It’s a religious thing with them. You’re always telling about old ways. When the standard was a tutelary deity and whatnot. They’ve gone the other direction from what we did. The Company that went north turned into your basic gang of cutthroats. The kids they left behind turned them into gods.”
“That’s scary.”
“Better believe.”
“They’re going to be disappointed in us. I’m the only one left who takes the traditions seriously.”
“Horseapples, Croaker. Spit and polish and beating the drum for the olden days ain’t all there is to it. I got to go find that little geek Goblin and see if he can stop pouting long enough for us to do a layout on how we work this scow if it gets hit. Hell. The pirates know everything that’s going on up here. Maybe our reputation will scare them into letting us slide through.”
“Think so?” It sounded like a nice idea.
“No. Frogface! Get over here. Acts like a damned kid, getting into things. Frogface, I want you to stick with Croaker. You do what he tells you just like if he was me. Got it? You don’t and I’ll paddle your butt.”
For all its talents, the imp had the mind of a five-year-old. With an attention span to match. It told One-Eye it would behave and help me, but I did not expect that to be easy.
I went down to the wharf and accepted thirty-two recruits into our brotherhood of arms. Mogaba was so pleased I thought he might hug me.
They were a damned impressive thirty-two men, every one a monster and quick and lithe as a cat. If they were the mongrel children of the men who had served in Gea-Xle, what must those old-timers have been like?
First thing after I swore them in, Mogaba asked if it was all right if his caste brothers did guard duty aboard the other boats. So they could tell their sons that they had followed the hadj as far as the Third Cataract.
“Sure. Why not?” Mogaba and his boys had my head spinning. For the first time since I got stiffed with the job, I really felt like I was the Captain.
The gang dispersed to get their gear and to spread the good news.
I noted the master of the barge watching from up forward. He was wearing a big poo-eating grin.
Things were going just dandy for his crowd. They thought they had us by the short hairs and broken to the bridle.
“Hey, Croaker. Here comes your prodigal girlfriend.”
“You too, Pup? I ought to toss you in the river.” If I could run the imp down. He had the energy of a five-year-old, too. I spotted her by the commotion she caused. Or the lack of it. Where she passed men paused to look and sigh and shake their heads wistfully. It did not occur to them to whistle, catcall, or make crude remarks. I looked around and picked a victim. “Murgen!”
Murgen ambled over. “What do you need?”
“When Lady gets here show her her quarters. The attached room is for her guests.”
“I thought . . . ”
“Don’t think. Just do.” I made myself scarce. I was not yet ready for the inevitable battle.