

Glen Cook - Black Company - Glittering Stone 04 - Soldiers Live


SOLDIERS LIVE
by Glen Cook
The Ninth Chronicle of the Black Company


Chapter 1  

An Abode of Ravens: When No Men Died

Four years passedand no one died. Not of violence or hazard of the 
calling, anyway. Otto and Hagop did pass on within days of each other, 
of natural causes associated with aging, last year. A few weeks ago one Tam
Duc, recruit in training, perished of the overconfident exuberance
of youth. He fell into a crevasse while he and his lance brothers
were riding their blankets down the long slick slope of the Tien
Myuen glacier. There were a few others. But not a one by an
unfriendly hand.

Four years has to be a record, though not the sort often
recalled in these Annals.

That much peace is impossible to believe.

Peace that prolonged becomes increasingly seductive.

Many of us are old and tired and retain no youthful fire in the
belly. But us old farts are not in charge anymore. And though we
were prepared to forget horror, horror was not as accomodating
toward us.

In those days the Company was in service to its own name. We
recognized no master. We counted the warlords of Hsien as our
allies. They feared us. We were supernatural, many recalled from
the dead, the ultimate Stone Soldiers. They dreaded the chance that
we might take sides in their squabbles over the bones of Hsien,
that once-mighty empire the Nyueng Bao recall as the Land of
Unknown Shadows.

The more idealistic warlords have hopes of us. The mysterious
File of Nine provide arms and money and let us recruit because they
hope we can be manipulated into helping them restore the golden age
that existed before the Shadowmasters enslaved their world so
cruelly that its people still call themselves the Children of the
Dead.

There is no chance we will participate. But we permit them the
hope, the illusion. We have to get strong. We have a mission of our
own.

By standing still we have caused the blossoming of a city. A
once-chaotic encampment has become ordered and has acquired names,
Outpost or the Bridgehead among those who came from beyond the
plain and what translates as Abode of Ravens amongst the Children
of the Dead. The place keeps growing. It has generated scores of
permanent structures. It is in the processing of acquiring a wall.
The main street is being paved with cobblestones.

Sleepy likes to keep everyone busy. She cannot stand a loafer.
The Children of the Dead will inherit a treasure when we finally go
away.


Chapter 2 

An Abode of Ravens: When the Baobhas Sang

Boom! Boom!
Somebody hammered on my door. I glanced at Lady. She had stayed up
late last night and so had fallen asleep while studying this
evening. She was determined to discover all the secrets of Hsien
magic and to help Tobo harness the startlingly plentiful
supernatural manifestations of this world. Not that Tobo needed
much help anymore.

This world has more real phantoms and marvellous beings hiding
in the bushes and behind the rocks and trees and on the edge of
night than any twenty generations of our own frightened peasants
could imagine. They gravitate toward Tobo as though he is some sort
of nightside messiah. Or amusing pet, maybe.

Boom! Boom! I would have to get off my butt myself. That looked
like a long, hard trek over there.

Boom! Boom! "Come on, Croaker! Wake up!" The door
swung inward as my visitor invited himself inside. The very devil
of my thoughts.

"Tobo . . . "

"Didn't you hear the baobhas singing?"

"I heard a racket. Your friends are always kicking up a
fuss about something. I don't pay any attention
anymore."

"When the baobhas sing it means somebody is going to die.
And there's been a cold wind off the plain all day and Big
Ears and Golden-Eye have been extremely nervous
and . . . it's One-Eye, sir. I just went
over to talk to him. He looks like he'd had another
stroke."

"Shit. Let me get my bag." No surprise, One-Eye
suffering a stroke. That old fart has been trying to sneak out on
us for years. Most of the vinegar went out of him back when we lost
Goblin.

"Hurry!"

The kid loved that old shit-disturber. Sometimes it seemed like
One-Eye was what he wanted to be when he grew up. In fact, it
seemed Tobo venerated everybody but his own mother, though the
friction between them diminished as he aged. He had matured
considerably since my latest resurrection.

"I'm hurrying as fast as I can, Your Grace. This old
body doesn't have the spring it did in the olden
days."

"Physician, heal thyself."

"Believe me, kid, I would if I could. If I had my druthers
I'd be twenty-three years old for the rest of my life. Which
would last another three thousand years."

"That wind off the plain. It has Uncle worried,
too."

"Doj is always worried about something. What does your
father say?"

"He and Mom are still at Khang Phi visiting Master
Santaraksita."

At a tender twenty Tobo is akeady the most powerful sorcerer in
all this world. Lady says he might possibly become a match for her
in her prime. Scary. But he has parents he calls Mom and Dad still.
He has friends he treats like people, not objects. He accords his
teachers respect and honor instead of devouring them just to prove
that he is stronger. His mother raised him well, despite having
done so in the environment of the Black Company. And despite his
innate rebellious streak. I hope he will remain a decent human
being once he comes into his full powers.

My wife does not believe that is possible. She is a pessimist
about character. She insists that power corrupts. Inevitably. She
has only her own history by which to judge. And she sees only the
dark side of everything. Even so, she remains one of Tobo's
teachers. Because, despite her bleak outlook, she retains the silly
romantic streak that brought her here with me.

I did not try to keep up with the boy. Time definitely has
slowed me. And has left me with an ache for every one of the
thousands of miles this battered old corpse has trudged. And it has
equipped me with an old man's talent for straying off the
subject.

The boy never stopped chattering about the Black Hounds, fees,
hobs and hobyahs and other creatures of the night that I have never
seen. Which is all right. The few he has brought around have all
been ugly, smelly, surly, and all too eager to copulate with humans
of any sex or sexuality. The Children of the Dead claim that
yielding is not a good idea. So far discipline has held.

The evening was chill. Both moons were up. Little Boy was full.
The sky was totally clear except for a circling owl being pestered
by what appeared to be a brace of night-flying rooks. One of those,
in turn, had some smaller black bird skipping along behind it,
darting in and out as it prosecuted reprisals for some corvine
trangression. Or just for the hell of it, the way my sister-in-law
would do.

Likely none of the flyers were actual birds.

A huge something loomed beyond the nearest house. It made
snorting noises and shuffled away. What I made out looked vaguely
like the head of a giant duck. The earliest of the conquering
Shadowmasters had possessed a bizarre turn of humor. This big,
slow, goofy thing was a killer. Among the worst of the others were
a giant beaver, a crocodile with eight legs and a pair of arms and
many variations of the themes of killer cattle, horses and ponies,
most of which spend their daytimes hiding underwater.

The most bizarre beings were created by the nameless
Shadowmaster now recalled as the First One or the Master of Time.
His raw material had consisted of shadows off the glittering plain,
which in Hsien are known as the Host of the Unforgiven Dead. It
seems appropriate that Hsien be called the Land of Unknown
Shadows.

A long feline roar ripped the night. That would be Big Ears or
his sister Cat Sith. By the time I reached One-Eye's place
the Black Hounds had begun to vocalize, too.

One-Eye's house was scarcely a year old. The little
wizard's friends raised it after they completed their own
places. Before that One-Eye and his girlfriend, Tobo's
grandmother Gota, lived in an ugly, smelly little stick-and-mud
hut. The new place was of mortared stone. It had a first rate
thatch roof above its four large rooms, one of which concealed a
still. One-Eye might be too old and feeble to weasel his way into
the local black market but I am sure he will continue distilling
strong spirits till the moment his own spirit departs his wizened
flesh. The man is dedicated.

Gota kept the house spotless via the ancient device of bullying
her daughter Sahra into doing the housework. Gota, still called the
Troll by the old hands, was as feeble as One-Eye. They were a
matched pair in their passion for potent beverages. When One-Eye
gave up the ghost he would be drawing a gill of the hard stuff for
his honey.

Tobo poked his head back outside. "Hurry up!"

"Know who you're talking to, boy? The former
military dictator of all the Taglias."

The boy grinned, no more impressed than anyone else is these
days. "Used to be" is not worth the breeze on which it
is scribbled.

I tend to philosophize about that, probably a little too much.
Once upon a time I was nothing and had no ambition to be anything
more. Circumstance conspired to put immense power into my hands. I
could have ripped the guts out of half a world had that been my
inclination. But I let other obsessions drive me. So I am here on
the far side of the circle, where I started, scraping wounds,
setting bones and scribbling histories nobody is likely to read.
Only now I am a lot older and crankier. I have buried all the
friends of my youth except One-Eye . . . 

I ducked into the old wizard's house.

The heat was ferocious. One-Eye and Gota had trouble keeping
warm even in summer. Though summers in southern Hsien seldom become
hot.

I stared. "You sure he's in trouble?"

Tobo said, "He tried to tell me something. I didn't
understand so I came for you. I was afraid." Him. Afraid.

One-Eye was seated in a rickety chair he had built for himself.
He was motionless but things stirred in the corners of the room,
usually only visible at the edge of my eye. Snail shells cluttered
the floor. Tobo's father, Murgen, calls them brownies after
little folk recalled from his youth. There had to be twenty
different races of them around, from no bigger than a thumb to half
a man high. They really did do work when nobody was looking. That
drove Sleepy crazy. It meant she had to work harder to think up
chores to keep the Company's villains out of trouble.

An overpowering stench pervaded One-Eye's house. It came
from the mash for his still.

The devil himself looked like a shrunken head the shrinker had
not bothered to separate from its body. One-Eye was a little bit of
a thing. Even in his prime he had not been big. At two hundred and
some years old, with both legs and most of one arm in the grave, he
looked more like a shriveled monkey than a human being.

I said, "I hear tell you're trying to get some
attention again, old man." I knelt. One-Eye's one eye
opened. It focused on me. Time had been kind in that respect. His
vision remained good.

He opened his toothless mouth. At first nothing came out. He
tried to raise a mahogany spider of a hand. He did not have the
strength.

Tobo shuffled his feet and muttered at the things in the
corners. There are ten thousand strange things infesting Hsien and
he knows every one by name. And they all worship him. For me this
intersection with the hidden world has been the most troubling
development of our stay in the Land of Unknown Shadows.

I liked them better when they were still unknown.

Outside Skryker or Black Shuck or another Black Hound began
raising a racket. Others replied. The uproar moved southward,
toward the shadowgate. I willed Tobo to go investigate.

He stayed put, all questions and nags. He was about to become a
major pain in the ass. "How's your grandmother?"
I asked. Preemptive strike. "Why don't you
check?" Gota was not in the room. Usually she was,
determinedly trying to do for One-Eye even though she had grown as
feeble as he was.

One-Eye made a noise, moved his head, tried to raise that hand
again. He saw the boy leave the room. His mouth opened. He managed
to force out words in little bursts. "Croaker. This is
the . . . last . . . She's
done. I feel it. Coming. Finally."

I did not argue with him, did not question him. My error. We had
been through similar scenes a half dozen times. His strokes were
never quite fatal. It seemed fate had some last role for him in the
grand design.

Whatever, he had to work his way through his standard soliloquy.
He had to warn me against hubris because he could not get it into
his head that not only am I no longer the Liberator, the military
dictator of all the Taglias; I have abdicated claim to captaincy of
the Black Company. The Captivity did not leave me rational enough
for that task. Nor had my understudy, Murgen, come through
sufficiently unscathed. The burden now rests upon Sleepy's
sturdy little shoulders.

And One-Eye had to ask me to look out for Gota and Tobo. Over
and over he would remind me to watch out for Goblin's wicked
tricks even though we had lost Goblin years ago.

I suspect that, should there be any afterlife at all, those two
will meet up about six seconds after One-Eye croaks and they will
pick up their feud right where they left it in life. In fact, I am
a little surprised Goblin has not been around haunting One-Eye. He
threatened to often enough.

Maybe Goblin just cannot find him. Some of the Nyueng Bao say
they feel lost because the shades of their ancestors cannot find
them to watch over them and give advice inside their dreams.

Kina cannot find us, either, apparently. Lady has not had a bad
dream in years.

Or maybe Goblin killed her.

One-Eye beckoned with one desiccated finger.
"Closer."

Kneeling in front of him, opening my kit, I was about as close
as I could get. I took his wrist. His pulse was weak and rapid and
irregular. I did not get the impression that he had suffered a
stroke.

He murmured, "I am not. A fool. Who doesn't know.
When he is. And what. Has happened. You listen! You watch out. For
Goblin. Little Girl. And Tobo. Didn't see him dead. Left him
with. Mother of Deceit."

"Shit!" That never occurred to me. I was not there.
I was still one of the Captured when Goblin stuck the sleeping
Goddess with the standard. Only Tobo and Sleepy had witnessed that.
And anything they knew had to be suspect. Kina was the Queen of
Deceivers. "A good idea, old man. Now, what do I have to do
to get you to get up and fetch me a drink?"

Then I started as something that looked like a small black
rabbit peeked at me from under One-Eye's chair. This was a
new one. I could call Tobo. He would know what it was. There are
uncounted varieties of the things, huge and small, some gentle and
many definitely not. They just gravitate toward Tobo. In only a few
cases, generally involving the most disagreeable sorts, has he
taken Lady's advice and bound them to his personal
service.

The Children of the Dead worry about Tobo. Having suffered a few
hundred years under the heels of the Shadowmasters they are
paranoid about outsider sorcerers.

So far the warlords have remained reasonable. None of them want
to spark the ire of the Soldiers of Darkness. That might cause the
Company to align itself with a rival. Status quo and balance of
force are cherished and jealously nurtured by the File of Nine.
Terrible chaos followed the expulsion of the last Shadowmaster.
None of the warlords want the chaos to return, though what Hsien
has now resembles nothing so much as lightly organized anarchy. But
not a one is willing to yield a minimum of power to another
authority, either.

One-Eye grinned, revealing dark gums. "Not going to. Trick
me. Captain."

"I'm not the Captain anymore. I'm retired.
I'm just an old man who pushes paper as an excuse to keep
hanging around with the living. Sleepy is the boss."

"Still. Management."

"I'm about to manage your scruffy old
ass . . . " I trailed off. His eye had
closed. He made a statement by beginning to snore.

Another hoot and holler arose outside, some close by, more far
away toward the shadowgate. The snail shells creaked and rustled
and, though I never saw a one touched by anything, rocked and spun
around. Then I heard the distant bray of a horn.

I rose and retreated, not turning my back. One-Eye's lone
remaining pleasure--other than staying drunk--was tripping the unwary
with his cane.

Tobo reappeared. He looked ghastly.
"Captain . . . Croaker. Sir. I
misunderstood what he tried to tell me."

"What?"

"It wasn't him. It was Nana Gota."


Chapter 3 

An Abode of Ravens: A Labor of Love

Tobo's
grandmother, Ky Gota, had died happy. As happy as the Troll could
die, which was drunker than three owls drowned in a wine cask. She
had enjoyed a vast quantity of extremely high-potency product
before she went. I told the boy, "If it's any
consolation she probably didn't know a thing." Although
the evidence suggested she knew exactly what was happening.

I did not fool him. "She knew it was coming. The Greylings
were here." Something behind the still chittered softly in
reponse to the sound of his voice. Like the baobhas, the greylings
are a harbinger of death. One of a great many in Hsien. Some of the
things that had been howling in the wilderness earlier would have
been, too.

I said the things you say to the young. "It was probably a
blessing. She was in constant pain and there was nothing I could do
for her anymore." The old woman's body had been a
torment to her for as long as I had known her. Her last few years
had been hell.

For a moment Tobo looked like a sad little boy who wanted to
bury his face in his mother's skirt and shed some tears. Then
he was a young man whose control was complete again. "She did
live a long life and a fulfilled one, no matter how much she
complained. The family owes One-Eye for that."

Complain she had, often and loudly, to everyone about everything
and everyone else. I had been fortunate enough to miss much of the
Gota era by having gotten myself buried alive for a decade and a
half. Such a clever man am I. "Speaking of family,
you'll have to find Doj. And you'd better send word to
your mother. And as soon as you can you'll need to let us
know about funeral arrangements." Nyueng Bao funerary customs
seem almost whimsical. Sometimes they bury their dead, sometimes
they burn them, sometimes they wrap them and hang them in trees.
The rules are unclear.

"Doj will make the arrangements. I'm sure the
Community will demand something traditional. In which case my place
is somewhere out of the way."

The Community consists of those Nyueng Bao associated with the
Black Company who have not enlisted formally and who have not yet
disappeared into the mysterious reaches of the Land of Unknown
Shadows.

"No doubt." The Community are proud of Tobo but
custom demands that they look down on him for his mixed blood and
lack of respect for tradition. "Others will need to know,
too. This'll be a time of great ceremony. Your grandmother is
the first female from our world to pass away over here. Unless you
count the white crow." Old Gota seemed much less formidable
in death.

Tobo's thoughts were moving obliquely to mine.
"There'll be another crow, Captain. There'll
always be another crow. They feel at home around the Black
Company." Which is why the Children of the Dead call our town
the Abode of Ravens. There are always crows, real or unknown.

"They used to stay fat."

The unknown shadows were all around us now. I could see them
easily myself, though seldom clearly and seldom for more than an
instant. Moments of intense emotion draw them out of the shells
where Tobo taught them to hide.

A renewed racket arose outside. The little darknesses stirred
excitedly, then scattered, somehow disappearing without ever
revealing what they were. Tobo said, "The dreamwalkers must
be hanging around on the other side of the shadowgate
again."

I did not think so. This evening's racket was
different.

An articulate cry came from the room where we had left One-Eye.
So the old man had been faking his snooze after all.
"I'd better see what he wants. You get Doj."

"You don't believe it." The old man was
agitated now. He was angry enough to speak clearly, without much
huffing and puffing. He threw up a hand. One wrinkled, twisted
ebony digit pointed at something only he could see. "The doom
is coming, Croaker. Soon. Maybe even tonight." Something
outside howled as if to strengthen his argument but he did not hear
it.

The hand fell. It rested for several seconds. Then it rose
again, one digit indicating an ornate black spear resting on pegs
above the doorway. "It's done." He had been
crafting that death tool for a generation. Its magical power was
strong enough for me to sense whenever I considered it directly.
Normally I am deaf, dumb and blind in that area. I married my own
personal consultant. "You run into. Goblin. Give him. The
spear."

"I should just hand it over?"

"My hat, too." One-Eye showed me a toothless grin.
For the entirety of my time with the Company he had worn the
biggest, ugliest, dirtiest, most disreputable black felt hat
imaginable. "But you got. To do it. Right." So. He
still had one practical joke to pull even though it would be on a
dead man and he would be dead himself long before it could
happen.

There was a scratch at the door. Someone entered without
awaiting invitation. I looked up. Doj, the old swordmaster and
priest of the Nyueng Bao Community. Associated with the Company but
not of it for twenty-five years now. I do not entirely trust him
even after so long. I seem to be the only doubter left, though.

Doj
said, "The boy said Gota . . . "

I
gestured. "Back there."

He nodded understanding. I would focus on One-Eye because I
could do nothing for the dead. Nor all that much for One-Eye, I
feared. Doj asked, "Where is Thai Dei?"

"At Khang Phi, I assume. With Murgen and Sahra."

He
grunted. "I'll send someone."

"Let Tobo send some of his pets." That would get
some of them out from under foot--and have the additional
consequence of reminding the File of Nine, the master council of
warlords, that the Stone Soldiers enjoy unusual resources. If they
could detect those entities at all.

Doj paused at the doorway to the back. "There's
something wrong with those things tonight. They're like
monkeys when there's a leopard on the prowl."

Monkeys we know well. The rock apes haunting the ruins lying
where Kiaulune stands in our own world are as pesky and numerous as
a plague of locusts. They are smart enough and deft enough to get
into anything not locked up magically. And they are fearless. And
Tobo is too soft of heart to employ his supernatural friends in a
swift educational strike.

Doj vanished through the doorway. He
remained spry although he was older than Gota. He still ran through
his fencing rituals every morning. I knew by direct observation
that he could defeat all but a handful of his disciples using
practice swords. I suspect the handful would be surprised
unpleasantly if the duel ever involved real steel.

Tobo is the only one as talented as Doj. But Tobo can do
anything, always with grace and usually with ridiculous ease. Tobo
is the child we all think we deserve.

I chuckled.

One-Eye murmured, "What?"

"Just thinking how my baby grew up."

"That's funny?"

"Like a broken broom handle pounded up the shit
chute."

"You should. Learn to appreciate. Cosmic. Practical
jokes."

"I . . . "

The cosmos was spared my rancor. The street door opened to
someone even less formal than Uncle Doj. Willow Swan invited
himself inside. "Shut it quick!" I snapped. "That
moonlight shining off the top of your head is blinding me." I
could not resist. I recalled him when he was a young man with
beautiful long blond hair, a pretty face and a poorly disguised
lust for my woman.

Swan said, "Sleepy sent me. There're
rumors."

"Stay with One-Eye. I'll deliver the news
myself."

Swan bent forward. "He breathing?"

With his eye shut One-Eye looked dead. Which meant he was laying
back in the weeds hoping to get somebody with his cane. He would
remain a vicious little shit till the moment he did stop
breathing.

"He's fine. For now. Just stay with him. And holler
if anything changes." I put my things back in my bag. My
knees creaked as I rose. I could not manage that without putting
some of my weight on One-Eye's chair. The gods are cruel.
They should let the flesh age at the rate the spirit does. Sure,
some people would die of old age in a week. But the keepers would
hang around forever. And I would not have all these aches and
pains. Either way.

I limped as I left One-Eye's house. My feet hurt.

Things scurried everywhere but where I was looking. Moonlight
did not help a bit.


Chapter 4 

The Grove of Doom: Night Songs

The drums had
begun at sunset, softly, a dark whispering promise of a shadow of
all night falling. Now they roared boldly. True night had come.
There was not even a sliver of moon. The flickering light of a
hundred fires set shadows dancing. It appeared that the trees had
pulled up their roots to participate. A hundred frenzied disciples
of the Mother of Night capered with them, their passion
building.

A hundred bound prisoners shivered and wept and fouled
themselves, fear unmanning some who had believed themselves heroic.
Their pleas fell upon unhearing ears.

A looming darkness emerged from the night, dragged by prisoners
straining at cables in the hopeless hope that by pleasing their
captors they might yet survive. Twenty feet tall, the shape proved
to be a statue of a woman as black and glistening as polished
ebony. It had four arms. It had rubies for eyes and crystal fangs
for teeth. It wore a necklace of skulls. It wore another necklace
of severed penises. Each taloned hand clutched a symbol of her
power over humanity. The prisoners saw only the noose.

The beat of the drums grew more swift. Their volume rose. The
Children of Kina began to sing a dark hymn. Those prisoners who
were devout began to pray to their own favored gods.

A skinny old man watched from the steps of the temple at the
heart of the Grove of Doom. He was seated. He no longer stood
unless he had to. His right leg had been broken and the bone
improperly set. Walking was difficult and painful. Even standing
was a chore.

A tangle of scaffolding rose behind him. The temple was
undergoing restoration. Again.

Standing over him, unable to remain still, was a beautiful young
woman. The old man feared her excitement was sensual, almost
sexual. That should not be. She was the Daughter of Night. She did
not exist to serve her own senses.

"I feel it, Narayan!" she enthused. "The
imminence is there. This is going to reconnect me with my
mother."

"Perhaps." The old man was not convinced. There had
been no connection with the Goddess for four years. He was
troubled. His faith was being tested. Again. And this child had
grown up far too headstrong and independent. "Or it may just
bring the wrath of the Protector down on our heads." He went
no farther. The argument had been running from the moment that she
had used some of her raw, completely untrained magical talent to
blind their keepers for the moments they had needed to escape the
Protector's custody three years ago.

The girl's face hardened. For a moment it took on the
dread implacability apparent on the face of the idol. As she always
did when the matter of the Protector came up, she said,
"She'll regret mistreating us, Narayan. Her punishment
won't be forgotten for a thousand years."

Narayan had grown old being persecuted. It was the natural order
of his existence. He sought always to make sure that his cult
survived the wrath of its enemies. The Daughter of Night was young
and powerful and possessed all of youth's impetuosity and
disbelief in its own mortality. She was the child of a Goddess!
That Goddess's ruling age was about to break upon the world,
changing everything. In the new order the Daughter of Night would
herself become a Goddess. What reason had she to fear? That
madwoman in Taglios was nothing!

Invincibility and caution, they were forever at loggerheads, yet
were forever inseparable.

The Daughter of Night did believe with all her heart and soul
that she was the spiritual child of a Goddess. She had to. But she
had been born of man and woman. A flake of humanity remained as a
stain upon her heart. She had to have somebody.

Her movements became more pronounced and more sensual, less
controlled. Narayan grimaced. She must not forge an interior
connection between pleasure and death. The Goddess was a destroyer
in one avatar but lives taken in her name were not taken for
reasons so slight. Kina would not countenance her Daughter yielding
to hedonism. If she did there would be punishments, no doubt
falling heaviest upon Narayan Singh.

The priests were ready. They dragged weeping prisoners forward
to fulfill the crowning purpose of their lives, their parts in the
rites that would reconsecrate Kina's temple. The second rite
would strive to contact the Goddess, who lay bound in enchanted
sleep, so that once again the Daughter of Night would be blessed
with the Dark Mother's wisdom and far-seeing vision.

All things that needed doing. But Narayan Singh, the living saint
of the Deceivers, the great hero of the Strangler cult, was not a
happy man. Control had drifted too far away. The girl had begun
altering the cult to reflect her own inner landscape. He feared the
chance that one of their arguments would not heal afterward. That
had happened with his real children. He had sworn an oath to Kina
that he would bring the girl up right, that they both would see her
bring on the Year of the Skulls. But if she continued growing ever
more headstrong and self-serving . . . 

She could restrain herself no longer. She hurried down the
steps. She plucked a strangling scarf from the hands of one of the
priests.

What Narayan saw in the girl's face then he had seen only
one place before, in his wife's face, in her passion, so long
ago that it seemed to have happened during an earlier turn around
the Wheel of Life.

Saddened, he realized that when the next rite started she would
throw herself into the torture of the victims. In her state she
might become too involved and spill their blood, which would be an
offense the Goddess would never excuse.

He was becoming extremely troubled, was Narayan Singh.

And then he became more troubled still as his wandering eye
caught sight of a crow in the crotch of a tree almost directly
behind the deadly rite. Worse, that crow noticed him noticing it.
It flung itself into the air with a mocking cry. A hundred crow
voices immediately answered from all over the grove.

The Protector knew!

Narayan yelled at the girl. Attention much too focused, she did
not hear him.

Agony ripped through his leg as he climbed to his feet. How soon
would the soldiers arrive? How would he ever run again? How would
he keep the Goddess's hope alive when his flesh had grown so
frail and his faith had worn so threadbare?


Chapter 5 

An Abode of Ravens: Headquarters

Outpost was a
quiet city of broad lanes and white walls. We had adopted the
native custom of whitewashing everything but the thatch and
decorative vegetation.

On holidays some locals even painted each other white. White had
been a great symbol of resistance to the Shadowmasters in times
gone by.

Our city was artificial and military, all straight lines,
cleanliness and quiet. Except at night, if Tobo's friends got
to brawling amongst themselves. By day, noise was confined to the
training fields where the latest bunch of native would-be
adventurers were learning the Black Company way of doing business.
I was remote from all that except for patching up training mishaps.
No one from my era was involved anymore. Like One-Eye I am a relic
of a distant age, a living icon of the history that makes up so
much of the unique social adhesive we used to hold the Company
together. They rolled me out on special occasions and had me give
sermons that began, "In those days the Company was in service
to . . . "

It was a spooky night, the two moons illuminating everything
while casting conflicting shadows. And Tobo's pets were
increasingly disturbed about something. I began to catch
straightforward glimpses of some when they became too distracted to
work at staying out of sight. In most cases I was sorry.

The uproar up toward the shadowgate rose and fell. There were
lights up there now, too. A couple of fireballs flew just before I
reached my destination. I began to feel uneasy myself.

Headquarters was a two-story sprawl at the center of town.
Sleepy had filled it with assistants and associates and
functionaries who kept track of every horseshoe nail and every
grain of rice. She had turned command into a bureaucratic exercise.
And I did not like it. Of course. Because I was a cranky old man
who remembered how things used to be in the good old days when we
did things the right way. My way.

I do not think I have lost my sense of humor, though. I see the
irony in having turned into my own grandfather.

I have stepped aside. I have passed the torch to someone
younger, more energetic and tactically brighter than I ever was.
But I have not abandoned my right to be involved, to contribute, to
criticize and, particularly, to complain. It is a job somebody has
to do. So I exasperate the younger people sometimes. Which is good
for them. It builds character.

I strode through the ground-floor busywork Sleepy uses to shield
herself from the world. Day or night there was a crew on duty,
counting those arrowheads and grains of rice. I should remind her
to get out into the world once in a while. Putting up barriers will
not protect her from her demons because they are all inside her
already.

I was almost old enough to get away with talk like that.

Irritation crossed her dry, dusky, almost sexless face when I
walked in. She was at her prayers. I do not understand that. Despite
everything she has been through, much of which puts the lie to
Vehdna doctrine, she persists in her faith.

"I'll wait till you're done."

The fact that I had caught her was what irritated her. The fact
that she needed to believe even in the face of the evidence was
what embarrassed her.

She rose, folded her prayer rug. "How bad is he this
time?"

"Rumor got it wrong. It wasn't One-Eye. It was Gota.
And she's gone. But One-Eye is in a pickle about something
else he thinks is going to happen. About which he was less than
vague. Tobo's friends are being more than normally weird so
it's entirely possible it isn't One-Eye's
imagination."

"I'd better send someone after Sahra."

"Tobo is taking care of it."

Sleepy considered me steadily. She may be short but she has
presence and self-confidence. "What's on your
mind?"

"I'm feeling some of what One-Eye is. Or maybe I
just naturally can't stand a prolonged peace."

"Lady nagging you about going home again?"

"No. Murgen's last communion with Shivetya has her
worried." To say the least. Modern history had turned cruel
back in our home world. The Deceiver cult has rebounded in our
absence, making converts by the hundred. At the same time
Soulcatcher tormented the Taglian Territories in a mad and mainly
fruitless effort to root out her enemies, most of whom were
imaginary until she and Mogaba created them through their zeal.
"She hasn't said so but I'm pretty sure
she's afraid Booboo is manipulating Soulcatcher
somehow."

Sleepy could not stifle a smile. "Booboo?"

"Your fault. I picked it up from something you
wrote."

"She's your daughter."

"We have to call her something."

"I can't believe you two never picked a
name."

"She was born before . . . " I
like "Ghana." It was good enough for my grandmother.
Lady would have demurred. It sounded too much like Kina.

And although Booboo might be a nightmare stalking, Booboo was
Lady's daughter and in the land where she had grown up
mothers always named the daughters. Always. When the time was
right.

This time will never be right. This child denies us both. She
stipulates that our flesh quickened her flesh but she is animated
by an absolute conviction that she is the spiritual daughter of the
Goddess Kina. She is the Daughter of Night. Her sole purpose for
existing is to precipitate the Year of the Skulls, that great human
disaster that will free her slumbering soulmother so she can resume
working her wickedness upon the world. Or upon the worlds,
actually, as we had discovered once my quest for the
Company's ancient origins had led us to the time-wracked
fortress on the plain of glittering stone lying between our world
and the Land of Unknown Shadows.

Silence stretched between us. Sleepy had been Annalist a long
time. She had come to the Company young. Its traditions meant a
great deal to her. Consequently she remained unfailingly courteous
to her predecessors. But internally, I am sure, she was impatient
with us old farts. Particularly with me. She never knew me well.
And I was always taking up time wanting to know what was going on.
I have begun putting too much emphasis on detail now that I do not
have much to do but write.

I told her, "I don't offer advice unless you
ask."

That startled her.

"Trick I learned from Soulcatcher. Makes people think
you're reading their minds. She's much better at
it."

"I'm sure she is. She's had all that time to
practice." She puffed air out of expanded cheeks.
"It's been a week since we've talked. Let's
see. Nothing to report from Shivetya. Murgen's been at Khang
Phi with Sahra so he hasn't been in touch with the golem.
Reports from the men working on the plain say they're
suffering from recurring premonitions of disaster."

"Really? They said it that way?" She had her
pontifical moments.

"Roughly."

"What's the traffic situation?"

"There is none." She looked puzzled. The plain had
seen no one cross for generations before the Company managed the
passage. The last, before us, had been the Shadowmasters who had
fled the Land of Unknown Shadows for our world back before I was
born.

"Wrong question. I guess. How're you coming with
preparations for our return?"

"That a personal or professional question?"
Everything was business with Sleepy. I do not recall ever having
seen her relax. Sometimes that worried me. Something in her past,
hinted at in her own Annals, had left her convinced that that was
the only way she could be safe.

"Both." I wished I could tell Lady that we would be
going home soon. She had no love for the Land of Unknown
Shadows.

I am sure she will not enjoy the future wherever we go. It is an
absolute certainty that the times to come will not be good. I do
not believe she understands that yet. Not in her heart.

Even she can be naive about some things.

"The short answer is that we can probably put a reinforced
company across as early as next month. If we can acquire the
shadowgate knowledge."

Crossing the plain is a major undertaking because you have to
carry with you everything you will need for a week. Up there there
is nothing to eat but glittering stone. Stone remembers but stone
has little nutritional value.

"Are you going too?"

"I'm going to send scouts and spies, no matter what.
We can use the home shadowgate as long as we only put through a few
men at a time."

"You won't take Shivetya's word?"

"The demon has his own agenda."

She would know. She had been in direct communion with that
Steadfast Guardian.

What I knew of the golem's designs made me concerned for
Lady. Shivetya, that ancient entity, created to manage and watch
over the plain--which was an artifact itself--wanted to die. He
could not do so while Kina survived. One of his tasks was to ensure
that the sleeping Goddess did not awaken and escape her
imprisonment.

When Kina ceased to exist, my wife's tenuous grasp on
those magical powers critical to her sense of self-worth and
identity would perish with her. What powers Lady boasted, she
possessed only because she had found a way to steal from the
Goddess. She was a complete parasite.

I said, "And you, believing the Company dictum that we
have no friends outside, don't value his
friendship."

"Oh, he's perfectly marvelous, Croaker. He saved my
life. But he didn't do it because I'm cute and I jiggle
in the right places when I run."

She was not cute. I could not imagine her jiggling, either. This
was a woman who had gotten away with pretending to be a boy for
years. There was nothing feminine about her. Nor anything
masculine, either. She was not a sexual being at all, though for a
while there had been rumors that she and Swan had become a midnight
item.

It turned out purely platonic.

"I'll reserve comment. You've surprised me
before."

"Captain!"

Took her a while, sometimes, to understand when someone was
joking. Or even being sarcastic, though she had a tongue like a
razor herself.

She realized I was ribbing her. "I see. Then let me
surprise you one more time by asking your advice."

"Oh-oh. You'll have them sharpening their skates in
hell."

"Howler and Longshadow. I've got to make
decisions."

"File of Nine nagging you again?" The File of Nine--"File" from military usage--was a council of warlords,
their identities kept secret, who formed the nearest thing to a
real ruling body in Hsien. The monarchy and aristocracy of record
were little more than decorative and, in the main, too intimate
with poverty to accomplish much if the inclination existed.

The File of Nine had only limited power. Their existence barely
assured that near-anarchy did not devolve into complete chaos. The
Nine would have been more effective had they not prized their
anonymity more than their implied power.

"Them and the Court of All Seasons. The Noble Judges
really want Longshadow." The imperial court of Hsien--consisting of aristocrats with less real world power than the File
of Nine but enjoying more a demonstrative moral authority--were
obsessively interested in gaining possession of Longshadow. Being
an old cynic I tended to suspect them of less than moral ambitions.
But we had few dealings with them. Their seat, Quang Ninh City, was
much too far away.

The one thing the peoples of Hsien held in common, every noble
and every peasant, every priest and every warlord, was an
implacable and ugly thirst for revenge upon the Shadowmaster
invaders of yesteryear. Longshadow, still trapped in stasis
underneath the glittering plain, represented the last possible
opportunity to extract that cathartic vengeance. Longshadow's
value in our dealings with the
Children of the Dead was phenomenally disproportionate.

Hatreds seldom are constrained to rational scales.

Sleepy continued, "And hardly a day goes by that I
don't hear from some lesser warlord begging me to bring
Longshadow in. The way they all volunteer to take charge of him
leaves me nurturing the sneaking suspicion that most of them
aren't quite as idealistically motivated as the File of Nine
and the Court of All Seasons."

"No doubt. He'd be a handy tool for anybody who
wanted to adjust the power balance. If anyone was fool enough to
believe he could manage a puppet Shadowmaster." No world
lacks its villains so self-confident that they don't believe
they can get the best end of a bargain with the darkness. I married
one of those. I am not sure she has learned her lesson yet.
"Has anyone offered to fix our shadowgate?"

"The Court is actually willing to give us someone. The
trouble with that is that they don't actually have anyone
equipped with the skills to make the needed fixes. Chances are, no
one has those skills. But the knowledge exists in records stored at
Khang Phi."

"So why don't
we? . . . "

"We're working on it. Meantime, the Court do seem to
believe in us. And they absolutely do want some kind of revenge
before all of Longshadow's surviving victims have been
claimed by age."

"And what about the Howler?"

"Tobo wants him. Says he can handle him now."

"Does anybody else think so?" I meant Lady.
"Or is he overconfident?"

Sleepy shrugged. "There's nobody telling me
they've got anything more they can teach him." She
meant Lady, too, and did not mean that Tobo suffered from a teen
attitude. Tobo had no trouble taking advice or instruction when
either of those did not originate with his mother.

I asked anyway. "Not even Lady?"

"She, I think, might be holding out on him."

"You can bet on it." I married the woman but I
don't have many illusions about her. She would be thrilled to
go back to her old wicked ways. Life with me and the Company has
not been anything like happily ever after. Reality has a way of
slow-roasting romance. Though we get along well enough. "She
can't be any other way. Get her to tell you about her first
husband. You'll marvel that she came out as sane as she
did." I marveled every day. Right before I gave in to my
astonishment that the woman really had given up everything to ride
off with me. Well, something. She had not had much at the time and
her prospects had been grim. "What the hell is
that?"

"Alarm horns." Sleepy bolted out of her seat. She
was spry for a woman treading hard on the heels of middle age. On
the other hand, of course, she was so short she did not have a lot
of real getting up to do. "I didn't order any
drills."

She had an ugly habit of doing that. Only the traitor Mogaba,
when he had been with us, had had as determined an attitude about
preparedness.

Sleepy was too serious about everything.

Tobo's unknown shadows began raising their biggest uproar
yet.

"Come on!" Sleepy snapped. "Why aren't
you armed?" She was. She always was, although I never have
seen her use a weapon more substantial than guile.

"I'm retired. I'm a paper pusher these
days."

"I don't see you wearing a tombstone for a
hat."

"I had an attitude problem once upon a time, myself,
but . . . "

"Speaking of which. I want a reading in the
officers' mess before lights out. Something that tells us all
about the wages of indolence and the neglect of readiness. Or about
the fate of ordinary mercenaries." She was in brisk motion,
headed for the main exit, overtaking staffers who were not dawdling
themselves. "Make a hole, people. Make a hole. Coming
through."

Outside, people were pointing and babbling. The moonlight and a
lot of fire betrayed a pillar of black, oily smoke boiling up from
just below the gate to the glittering plain. I stated the obvious.
"Something's happened." Clever me.

"Suvrin's up there. He has a level head."

Suvrin was a solid young officer with maybe just a tad of
worship for his captain. You could be confident that neither
accidents nor stupid mistakes would happen on Suvrin's
watch.

Runners gathered, ready to carry Sleepy's instructions.
She gave the only order she could till we knew more. Be alert. Even
though to a man we believed that there was no way major trouble
could come at us from off the plain.

The thing that you know to be true is the lie that will kill
you.


Chapter 6 

An Abode of Ravens: Suvrin's News

Suvrin did not
arrive until after midnight. By then even our dullards understood
that there was significance to the agitation of the hidden folk and
the crows whose presence gave our settlement its local name. Arms
had been issued. Men with fireball poles now perched on every
rooftop. Tobo had warned his supernatural friends to stay out of
town lest taut human nerves snap and cause them harm.

Everyone of stature available gathered to await Suvrin's
report. A couple of subalterns took turns running up to the
headquarters' roof to check the progress of the torches
descending the long scarp from the shadowgate. Local boys, they
seemed to feel that their great adventure had begun at last.

They were fools.

An adventure is somebody else slogging through the mud and snow
while suffering from trench foot, ringworm, dysentery and
starvation, being chased by people with their hearts set on murder
or more. I have been there. I have done that, playing both parts. I
do not recommend it. Be content with a nice farm or shop. Make lots
of babies and bring them up to be good people.

If the new blood remain blind to reality after we move out I
guarantee that their naivete will not long survive their first
encounter with my sister-in-law, Soulcatcher.

Suvrin finally arrived, accompanied by the runner Sleepy had
sent to meet him. He seemed surprised by the size of the assembly
awaiting him.

"Get up front and talk," Sleepy told him. Always
direct and to the point, my successor.

Silence fell. Suvrin looked around nervously. He was short,
dark, slightly pudgy. His family had been minor nobility. Sleepy
had taken him prisoner of war four years ago, just before the
Company climbed onto the glittering plain, headed this way. Now he
commanded an infantry battalion and seemed destined for bigger
things because the Company was growing. He told us,
"Something came through the shadowgate."

Jabber jabber, question question.

"I don't know what. One of my men came to tell me he
thought he'd seen something sneaking around in the rocks on
the other side of the gate. I went to look. After four years of
nothing happening I assumed it would be just a shadow or one of the
Nef. The dreamwalkers visit us all the time. I was wrong. I never
got a good look at the thing but it seemed to be a large animal,
black and extremely fast. Not as big as Big Ears or Cat Sith but
definitely faster. It was able to pass through the shadowgate
without help."

I felt a chill. I tried to reject my immediate suspicion. It was
not possible. Nevertheless, I said, "Forvalaka."

"Tobo, where are you?" Sleepy demanded.

"Here." He sat with several Children of the Dead,
officers in training.

"Find this thing. Catch it. If it's what Croaker
said, I want you to kill it."

"That'll be easier said than done. It's
already squabbled with the Black Hounds. They backed off.
They're just trying to keep track of it now."

"Then kill it, Tobo." There was no "try
to" or "do whatever you can" with this
Captain.

I told him, "Ask Lady to help you. She knows those things.
But before anybody does anything, we need to set up some kind of
protection for One-Eye." If it was a shape-shifting,
man-eating werepanther from our homeworld, it could be only one
monster. And that creature hated One-Eye with the deepest and most
abiding passion imaginable because One-Eye had slain the only
wizard capable of helping it regain its human form.

"You think it really is Lisa Bowalk?" Sleepy
asked.

"I get that feeling. But you told me it escaped from the
plain through the Khatovar gate. And it couldn't get
back."

Sleepy shrugged. "That's what Shivetya showed me.
It's possible that I just assumed it couldn't get back
onto the plain."

"Or maybe it made new friends out there."

The little woman spun, barked, "Suvrin?"

Suvrin understood. "I left them on maximum
alert."

I said, "Tobo will have to check the seals on the gate. We
don't want it leaking shadows because whatever it was broke
through." Though the boy would not be able to do much to stem
a real flood. That honor would have to go to his hidden folk
friends. Lack of technical knowledge about shadowgates was the main
reason we continued to reside in the Land of Unknown Shadows.

"I understand that, Croaker. Can I get to work
here?"

I was underfoot. Being considered useless is irksome.

That condition was familiar to most of us whom Soulcatcher had
beguiled and captured and managed to leave buried for fifteen
years. Our Company had changed during our slumber. Even Lady and
Murgen, who had maintained tenuous connections with the outside
world, found themselves marginalized now. Murgen did not mind.

The culture of the Company has become quite alien. Almost no
northern flavor remains. Just a few little quirkss in how things
are done, and my own proud legacy, an interest in hygiene that is
completely foreign to these climes.

These southerners did not enjoy a proper terror of the
forvalaka. They insisted on picturing it as just another spooky
nightstalker like Big Ears or Paddlefoot, which they consider
essentially harmless. Near as I can tell they appear harmless only
because their victims seldom survive to report any contrary
facts.

"A reading from the First Book of Croaker," I told
the assembly. It was after midnight. There had been no uproar for a
while. The shadowgate was not leaking the Unforgiven Dead. Tobo was
trying to pinpoint the intruder but was having difficulties. It was
moving around a lot, scouting, plainly unsure how it should view
the fact that it had fallen right in among us. "In those days
the Company was in service to the Syndic of Beryl."

I told them about another forvalaka, long ago and far away and
way more cruel than this one ever could be. I wanted them to
worry.


Chapter 7 

An Abode of Ravens: Night Visitor

Lady and I sat up
with One-Eye. Gota had been laid out in the same room. Candles
surrounded her. "I see no obvious change in the
woman."

"Croaker! Hush!"

"I hear a difference, though. She hasn't complained
about anything since we got here."

Playing deaf, One-Eye took a long drink of his product, closed
his eye, nodded off. Lady whispered, "It's probably
best if he naps."

"Not very lively bait."

"Carrion's good enough to draw this thing. What it
wants to kill really only exists inside itself. One-Eye is just its
symbol." She rubbed her eyes.

I winced. She looked so old, my love. Grey hair. Wrinkles. Jowls
developing. Broadening in the beam. The deterioration had been
swift since Sleepy rescued us.

Lucky for me there was no mirror handy. I really do not like to
look at that fat, old, bald guy who goes around claiming to be
Croaker.

The shadows in the room were restless. They made me nervous.
From the beginning of our association with Taglios, shadows have
been cause for terror. A shadow in motion meant death could have
hold of you any moment. Those sad but cruel monsters off the plain
had been the lethal instruments by which the Shadowmasters had
earned their fame and had enforced their wills. But here, in the
Land of Unknown Shadows, the hidden folk who lurked in the dark
were shy but not ordinarily unfriendly--if treated with respect. And
even those manifestations owning a history of wickedness and malice
now worshipped Tobo and harmed no mortal closely associated with
the Company. Unless that mortal was dim enough to irk Tobo
somehow.

Tobo lived as much in the world of the hidden folk as he did in
ours.

In the distance the spectral cat Big Ears again mouthed his
unique call. Native legend says only the creature's
prospective victims ever hear that chilling cry. A couple of the
Black Hounds bayed. Legend suggests you do not want to hear their
voices, either. Interviews with locals lead me to believe that
before Tobo arrived only ignorant peasants really believed in most
such perils of the night and the wild. Educated folk at Khang Phi
and Quang Ninh had been stunned by what the boy had summoned from
the shadows.

I glanced at the spear above the door. One-Eye had worked on
that for decades. It was as much work of art as weapon. "Hon.
Didn't One-Eye start crafting that spear because of
Bowalk?"

She paused in her knitting, stared up at the spear, mused,
"Seems to me Murgen wrote that One-Eye intended to use it on
one of the Shadowmasters but ended up sticking Bowalk with it
instead. During the siege. Or was
that? . . . "

My knees creaked as I rose. "Whatever. Just in
case." I took the spear down. "Damn. It's
heavy."

"If the monster does get this far, try to keep in mind
that we'd rather catch it than kill it."

"I know. It was my bright idea." The wisdom of which
I had begun to doubt. I thought it might be interesting to see what
would happen if we could force it to change back into the woman it
had been before it had become fixed in its cat shape. I wanted to
ask her questions about Khatovar.

Always assuming that the invader was the dread forvalaka, Lisa
Daele Bowalk.

I sat down again. "Sleepy says she's ready to send
spies and scouts across."

"Uhm?"

"We've been avoiding the facts a long time."
This was hard. It had taken me an age to work up to it. "The
girl . . . Our
child . . . "

"Booboo?"

"You, too?"

"We have to call her something. The Daughter of Night is
so unwieldy. Booboo works without being an emotional
calthrop."

"We have to make some decisions."

"She'll . . . "

Black Hounds, Cat Sith, Big Ears and numerous other hidden folk
began to give voice. I said, "That's inside the
wall."

"Headed this way." She set her knitting aside.

One-Eye's head rose.

The door exploded inward before I finished turning to face
it.

A plank floated toward me in slow motion, slapped me across the
belly hard enough to set me down on the floor on my butt. Something
huge and black with blazing angry eyes followed the board but lost
interest in me in midleap. Still falling backward onto my back I
scored its flank with One-Eye's spear. Flesh parted. Rib
bones appeared. I tried to thrust on into the beast's belly
but did not have enough leverage. It screamed but could not alter
its momentum.

Burning pain seared deep into my left shoulder, not three inches
from the side of my neck. The forvalaka was not responsible,
though. Friendly fire was. My sweet wife had discharged a fireball
projector while I was between her and her target. There was plenty
of fire left, though, when that ball, its flight path altered,
clipped the panther's tail two inches from its root.

The monster's scream continued. It flung its head back
while still airborne. Its whole frame was in the position heralds
call rampant.

It hit One-Eye.

The old man made no obvious effort to defend himself. His chair
went over. It shattered into kindling wood. One-Eye skidded along the dirt floor. The forvalaka ploughed into
Gota, tipping the table on which she had been laid out. Lady loosed
another fireball. It missed. I fought to get around onto my hands
and knees, then to get the head of the spear up, between me and the
monster. It fought for its footing while trying to turn at the same
time. It slammed into the far wall. I got my feet under me, started
to stumble around.

Lady missed again.

"No!" I shrieked. My feet tangled. I came close to
landing on my face again. I tried to do three things at once and,
naturally, did none of them well. I wanted to get hold of One-Eye,
I wanted to get my spearhead back up, I wanted to get the hell out
of that house.

Lady did not miss again. But this fireball was a puny one, a
near dud. It hit the monster right between the eyes. And just
ricocheted off, taking a few square inches of skin along with it,
leaving a patch of skull bone exposed.

The forvalaka screamed again.

Then One-Eye's still blew up. Which is what I had expected
from the moment Lady's fireball had gone through the
wall.


Chapter 8 

Taglios: Trouble Follows

Mogaba knew there
was trouble seconds after he left his rooms, so austerely furnished
in shabby regrets. Palace staffers pushed to the sides of the
corridors as he passed. Without exception they were scuttling away
from the Privy Council Chamber. They must have heard rumors that
had not yet reached his ears. Rumors they were sure would displease
the Protector, which meant that, soon, someone would be making life
unpleasant for someone else and these people hoped to be well out
of the way before he started.

"Pride," he said, in a normal, conversational voice
to a young Grey runner trying to ease past without attracting
notice. "Pride is what did me in."

"Yes sir." Color drained from the young
Shadar's face. He did not yet have a beard to hide behind.
"I mean, no sir. I'm
sorry . . . "

Mogaba was gone, indifferent to the apprentice soldier. Similar
incidents occurred each time he passed through the Palace. He spoke
to almost everyone. Those who had watched the habit develop
understood that he was talking to himself and did not expect any
reply. He was pursuing a running debate with his own guilts and
ghosts--unless he was spouting proverbs and aphorisms, most of the
meanings fairly obvious but a few convolute and obscure. He was
particularly fond of "Fortune smiles. And then
betrays." He just could not get into bed comfortably with the
truth that he had made that bed himself. He still had difficulty
separating "ought to be" from "the way things
really are." He was no fool, though. He knew he had
problems.

He was certain that he had a much more solid grip on reality
than did his employer, though.

Soulcatcher, however, took the view that she was a virtual free
agent and refused to be wedded to any particular reality. She
believed in creating her own by making her imaginings come
true.

Some were quite mad. Few, however, lasted beyond the heated
moment of conception.

Mogaba heard crows arguing ahead. Crows infested the Palace
these days. Soulcatcher was fond of crows. She allowed no one to
harass or harm them. Of late bats had made a claim on her
affections as well.

When the crows became vocal the few servants still around
started moving much faster. Unhappy crows meant unhappy news.
Unhappy news was guaranteed to produce an extremely unhappy
Protector. When Soulcatcher was unhappy she did not care who
suffered the consequences. But someone surely would.

Mogaba stepped into the council chamber and waited. She would
talk to him when she was ready. Ghopal Singh of the Greys and
Aridatha Singh of the City Battalions--no relation: Singh was the
most common surname in Taglios--were there already. Which meant
that Soulcatcher must have been haranguing them about their failure
to root out enough enemies, again, before the bad news arrived.

Mogaba exchanged glances with both men. As he believed himself
to be, they were good men trapped by impossible circumstances.
Ghopal had a flair for enforcing the law. Aridatha was equally
talented at keeping the peace without enraging the populace. Both
men managed despite Soulcatcher, who loved both chaos and
despotism and inflicted each with verve and ferocity, driven by the
dictates of whimsy.

The woman seemed to materialize suddenly. It was a talent she
used to disconcert lesser beings. A lesser man than Mogaba might
have been numbed by the sight of her. The woman had a body the
wonders of which seemed highlighted rather than concealed by the
tight black leather she wore. Nature had blessed her with superb
raw materials. Her vanity had driven her, over the centuries, to
keep making improvements through cosmetic sorceries.

"I'm not happy," Soulcatcher announced. Her
voice was petulant, that of a spoiled child. Today her look was
younger than usual, as though she wanted to spark every young
man's fantasy. Although the preening crow on the tall chair
back behind her was a distraction once she settled.

"May I ask why?" Mogaba asked. His voice was calm,
untroubled. Life in the Palace at Taglios consisted of a
disorganized stumble from crisis to crisis. He no longer became
emotionally involved. Soulcatcher would turn on him someday. He had
made his peace with that already. He would face it calmly when it
came. He deserved no better.

"There is a huge Deceiver festival being celebrated in the
Grove of Doom. Right now. Tonight." This voice was cool,
calm, rational. Masculine. You got used to the changes after a
while. Mogaba seldom noticed anymore. Aridatha Singh, only recently
promoted, still found the unpredictable chorus disconcerting. Singh
was a sound officer and good soldier. Mogaba hoped he lasted long
enough to become accustomed to the Protector's quirks.
Aridatha deserved better than he was likely to get.

"That's definitely not good news," Mogaba
agreed. "Seems I recall you wanting to harvest the timber
there while obliterating every last trace of the holy place. Selvas
Gupta talked you out of it. Said it would set a bad
precedent." Gupta had had secret encouragement from the Great
General, who had not cared to waste manpower and time clearing a
forest. But Mogaba loathed Selvas Gupta and his smugly holy
attitude of superiority.

Gupta was the current Purohita, or official court chaplain and
religious adviser. Purohita was a post that had been forced upon
the Radisha Drah twenty years earlier by the priesthoods at a time
when the princess had been too weak to defy them. Soulcatcher had
not yet abolished it. But she had little patience with the men who
occupied it.

Selvas Gupta had been Purohita for a year, which incumbency
exceeded that of all his predecessors since the establishment of
the Protectorate.

Mogaba was confident that slimy little snake Gupta would not
last out the week.

Soulcatcher gave him a look which offered the impression that
she was peering deep inside him, sorting his secrets and motives.
Having paused just long enough to suggest that she was not being
fooled, she said, "Get me a new Purohita. Kill the old one if
he argues about it." She had an ancient custom of being
unpleasant toward priests who disappointed her. Which ran in the
family. Her sister had slain hundreds in a single massacre a
generation earlier. The exemplary demonstrations of both sisters,
however, never seemed sufficient to convince the survivors that
they ought to abandon their scheming. They were stubborn. It seemed
likely that Taglios would come up short of priests before it ran
short of conspiracies.

The crow hopped down onto Soulcatcher's shoulder. She
lifted gloved fingers to offer it some tidbit.

"Did you have a response in mind? Something involving my
colleagues?" Mogaba nodded toward the Singhs in turn. He
suffered little jealousy of either man and did respect each for his
abilities. Time and persistent adversity had ground the rough edges
off of his once potent sense of self-appreciation.

"These gentlemen were here already, regarding another
matter, when the news from the Grove arrived." She offered
the crow another morsel.

Mogaba's eyes narrowed the tiniest fraction. He was not to
be made privy to that matter?

But he was. Soulcatcher used a cackling crone's voice.
"The Greys found several slogans painted on walls
today." The crow cawed. Elsewhere, other crows began
squabbling.

"Not uncommon," Mogaba replied. "Every idiot
with a brush, a pot of paint and enough education to string five
characters together seems to be compelled to say something if he
discovers a blank piece of wall."

"These were slogans from the past." This was the
voice the Protector used when she was focused entirely on business.
It was a male voice. A voice like Mogaba imagined his own to be.
"Three said `Rajadharma.' "

"I've heard the Bhodi cult is making a comeback,
too."

Ghopal Singh added, "Two said `Water Sleeps.'
That's not Bhodi. And they weren't stray graffiti left
over from four years ago."

A thrill, half fear, half excitement, coursed through Mogaba. He
stared at the Protector. She said, "I want to know
who's doing it. I want to know why they've decided to
do it right now."

Mogaba thought both Singhs looked cautiously pleased, as though
glad to have potential real enemies to chase instead of just
irritating people who would otherwise remain indifferent to the
Palace.

The Grove of Doom was outside the city. Everything outside was
Mogaba's province. He asked, "Was there some particular
action you wished me to take in regard to the Deceivers?"

Soulcatcher smiled. When she did that, just that way, every
minute of her many centuries shone through. "Nothing. Not a
thing. They're scattering already. I'll let you know
when. It'll be when they're not ready." This
voice was cold but was filled with her evil smile. Mogaba wondered
if the Singhs knew how seldom anyone saw the Protector without her
mask. It meant that she meant to involve them in her schemes too
deeply for them to escape the association.

Mogaba nodded like a dutiful servant. It was all a game to the
Protector. Or possibly several games. Maybe making a game of it was
how you survived spiritually in a world where everyone else was
ephemeral.

Soulcatcher said, "I want you to help catch rats.
There's a shortage of carrion. My babies are going
hungry." She offered her black-winged spy another treat. This
one suspiciously resembled a human eyeball.


Chapter 9 

An Abode of Ravens: The Invalid

Am I still
alive?" I did not need to ask. I was. Pain was a dead
giveaway. Every square inch of me hurt.

"Don't move." That was Tobo. "Or
you'll wish you hadn't."

I already wished I did not have to breathe.
"Burns?"

"Lots of burns. Lots of banging around, too."

Murgen's voice said, "You look like they whipped
your ass with a forty-pound ugly stick, then slow-roasted what was
left over an open pit."

"I thought you were at Khang Phi."

"We came home."

Tobo said, "We kept you unconscious for four
days."

"How is Lady?"

Murgen told me, "She's in the other bed. In a lot
better shape than you."

"She ought to be. I didn't shoot her. The cat get
her tongue?"

"She's asleep."

"What about One-Eye?"

Tobo's response was barely audible. "One-Eye
didn't make it, Croaker."

After a while, Murgen asked, "You all right?"

"He was the last."

"Last? Last what?"

"The last one who was here when I joined. The
Company." I was the real Old Man now. "What happened to
his spear? I've got to have his spear in order to finish
this."

"What spear?" Murgen asked.

Tobo knew what spear. "I have it at my place."

"Was it damaged by the fire?"

"Not much. Why?"

"I'm going to kill that thing. Like we should have a
long time ago. You don't let that spear out of your sight.
I've got to have it. But right now I'm going to sleep
for a while some more." I had to go where the pain was not,
just for a time. I had known One-Eye would leave us someday. I
thought I was ready for that. I was wrong.

His passing meant more than just the end of an old friend. It
marked the end of an age.

Tobo said something about the spear. I did not catch it. And the
darkness came back before I remembered to ask what had become of
the forvalaka. If Lady had caught or killed it I had gotten myself
worked up for nothing . . . But I guess I knew
it could not be that easy.

There were dreams. I remembered everyone who had gone before me.
I remembered the places and times. Cold places, hot places, weird
places, always stressful times, swollen with unhappiness, pain and
fear. Some died. Some did not. It makes no sense when you try to
figure it out. Soldiers live. And wonder why.

Oh, it's a
soldier's life for me. Oh, the adventure and glory!

It took me longer to recuperate than it had that time I almost
got killed outside Dejagore. Even with Tobo applying his own best
healing spells, learned from One-Eye, and urging his
edge-of-the-eye friends to help as well. Some of those were
supposed to be able to bring a fossil back to life. I felt like a
fossil, like I had not enjoyed the advantage of the stasis that had
frozen the others while we were prisoners under the plain. There
was a lot of confusion inside me. I could no longer figure out how
old I am. My best guess is fifty-six, give or take a few years,
plus all that time underneath the earth. And fifty-six years,
brother, was a pretty damned good run--particularly for a guy in my
racket. I ought to appreciate every second, including all the
misery.

Soldiers live. And wonder why.


Chapter 10 

An Abode of Ravens: Recovery

Two months had
passed. I felt ten years older but I was up and around--and moving
like a zombie. I had indeed been roasted well-done by a jet of
almost pure alcohol blowing through the hole that had been drilled
by Lady's errant fireball. Everybody kept telling me how much
the gods must love me, that I had no business being alive. That had
I not been turned the way I was, with the forvalaka positioned
perfectly to absorb a lot of the blast, there would not have been
much left of me but bones.

I was not entirely convinced that that might not have been the
better outcome.

Persistent pain does little to buoy one's optimism or
elevate one's mood. I began to develop a certain sympathy for
Mother Gota's perspective.

I did manage a smile when Lady began to rub me down with healing
unguents. "Silver linings," she told me.

"Oh, yes indeed. Yes indeed."

"Would you look at that? Maybe you're not as old as
you think."

"It's all your fault, wench."

"Sleepy's worried about you wanting to avenge
One-Eye."

"I know." I did not have to be told. I had had to
put up with people like me when I was Captain.

"Maybe you should tone it down."

"It's got to be done. It's going to be done.
Sleepy's got to understand that." Sleepy is all
business. Her world does not include much leeway for emotional
indulgence.

She thinks I just want to use One-Eye's death as an excuse
to visit the Khatovar shadowgate, basing her judgment on the fact
that I had tramped through Hell for a decade trying to get to that
place.

The woman is hard to fool. But she can also get fixed on one
idea to the exclusion of other possibilities.

"She doesn't want to make any more
enemies."

"More? We don't have any. Not out here. They may not
like us much but they all kiss our asses. They're scared to
death of us. And they get more scared every time another White Lady
or Blue Man or wichtlin or whatnot lumbers out of folklore and
joins Tobo's entourage."

"Uhn. Is that the spot? I saw something Tobo called a
wowsey with the Black Hounds yesterday." That is my honey.
She can see those things clearly, even over here. "It's
as big as a hippo but looks like a beetle with a lizard's
head. A lizard with big teeth. To quote Swan, `It looks like
it fell out of the ugly tree and hit every single branch on the way
down.' "

Willow Swan seemed to be cultivating a new image as a churlish
but colorful old man.

Somebody has to step in and take One-Eye's place. Though I
was sort of thinking about picking up the stick myself.

"What do we know about the forvalaka?" I asked. I
had avoided asking for specifics before. I knew the damned thing
got away. That was all I needed to know until I was prepared
mentally to start planning the conclusion of its tale.

"It left its tail behind. It suffered severe burns and
several deep wounds and I blinded it partially with my last
fireball. It lost several teeth. Tobo has created a number of
fetishes using those and bits of flesh torn off by the Black Hounds
while it was fleeing toward the shadowgate."

"But it did have what it takes to get back to
Khatovar."

"It did."

"Then it's going to be as hard to kill as the Limper
was."

"Not anymore. Not with what Tobo has."

"He had your help?"

"I'm ancient in the ways of wickedness. Am I not?
Didn't you write something like that a time or
two?"

"Especially after I got to know
you . . . Ouch!
Well . . . as long as you're a bad girl
like you're being a bad girl right
now . . . " I do not recall if I did
write the exact words she claimed but I know I recorded those
approximate sentiments many years ago. Without exaggerating.
"I'm going to go after it."

"I know." She did not argue. They were humoring me.
They wanted to keep me quiet. Sleepy was involved in touchy
negotiations with the File of Nine. The Court of All Seasons and
the monks of Khang Phi were behind us already. The warlords of the
File remain unconvinced that it would be wise to give us what we
want even though the Company has grown to the point where it has
become a serious burden on Hsien's economy. And poses a
threat, if the notion of conquest happens to take root. I, myself,
do not see one warlord, or even a cabal of warlords, out there, who
would stand much more chance than smoke in a high wind if the
notion did take us. Most of the warlords are clear on that,
too.

They still want Maricha Manthara Dhumraksha--our Shadowmaster
Longshadow--desperately. Their hunger for revenge borders on racial
obsession. They are not forthcoming about the evils Longshadow
visited upon their forbears but we have our sources inside Khang
Phi. Longshadow's cruelties had been as capricious as any
wickedness of Soulcatcher's but far more terrible for their
victims. The need to haul the Shadowmaster up before a tribunal
colored every consideration of the warlords, the legal and noble
courts, even the several spiritual traditions of Hsien. Maricha
Manthara Dhumraksha was the one thing they all agreed upon. Nor did
I ever sense a hint of a chance some rogue would try to acquire
control of Longshadow in an effort to amplify his own power.

Sleepy did not want a short-tempered, foulmouthed but still
influential former Captain stumbling around being sarcastic and
opinionated while she was trying to wring the one last concession
she wanted out of the File of Nine. She was confident that our
years of good behavior would tilt the scale. And if it did not,
well, she was the kind of planner who always had a secondary scheme
in motion. In fact, she was that wonderful kind of villain for whom
the public and obvious scheme might well be only a tertiary effort
meant primarily as a smoke screen. Our Sleepy was one wicked little
girl.

There are no great sorcerers in the Land of Unknown Shadows.
"All Evil Dies There an Endless Death" means that they
have persecuted the talented since the flight of the
Shadowmasters. But Hsien does not lack or disdain knowledge. There
are several huge monasteries--of which Khang Phi is the
greatest--dedicated to the preservation of knowledge. The monks do
not sort it into good and evil knowledge, nor do they make moral
judgments. They take the position that no knowledge is evil until
someone chooses to do evil with it.

Even though it has been engineered to wreak havoc upon the human
body, a sword is strictly inert metal until someone chooses to pick
it up and strike. Or chooses not to do so.

There are, of course, a thousand sophistries spewed by those who
wish to deny individuals the opportunity to choose. Which is an
arrogant presumption of a divine scale.

This is what happens when you get old. You start thinking.
Worse, you start telling everybody what you think.

Sleepy was nervous lest I express an unfortunate opinion to one
of the Nine, whereupon, in high dudgeon, the offended party would
abandon all sensibility and self-interest and deny to us forever
the knowledge we need to repair the shadowgate opening on our
native world. She misapprehends my ability to evoke the unfriendly
response.

Before the werepanther came I might have stumbled. I might have
expressed an actual opinion to a member of the File, some of whom
are amongst the most reprehensible generals I have ever
encountered. I doubt that, given the opportunity to rule
unchallenged, many of them would be more enlightened than the hated
Shadowmasters.

People are strange. The Children of the Dead are among the
strangest.

I will not upset anyone. I will be diligently supportive of any
policy Sleepy sets. I want to leave this Land of Unknown Shadows. I
have things to accomplish before I hand these Annals over for the
last time. Settling up with Lisa Daele Bowalk is just one. There is
the Great General, Mogaba, the darkest traitor ever to stain the
Company's history. There is Narayan Singh. For Lady, there is
Narayan and Soulcatcher. For both of us there is our child. Our
wicked, wicked child.

I asked, "Is there anything besides Longshadow we could
offer the File of Nine? Sweeten it just enough to make them move
over beside Khang Phi and the Court of All Seasons?"

My sweetie shrugged. "I can't imagine what."
She smiled enigmatically. "But it may not matter."

I did not pay sufficient attention. Sometimes I overlook the new
truths. These days my Company is managed by sly children and
devious old women, not straightforward stalwarts like myself and
the men of my time.


Chapter 11 

An Abode of Ravens: Exercise Session

As soon as I
healed enough I asked Uncle Doj to let me resume the martial arts
exercises I had given up many years ago. "Why are you
interested now?" he asked. Sometimes I think he is more
suspicious of me than I am of him.

"Because I have time. And
the need. I'm as weak as a puppy. I want to get my strength
back."

"You chased me away when I offered."

"I didn't have time then. And you were so much more
abrasive."

"Ha." He smiled. "You're too
kind."

"You're right. But I'm a prince."

"A Prince of Darkness, Stone Soldier." He knew that
would get my goat. "But a lucky prince." The old fart
indulged in a smirk. "Several of your contemporaries have
approached me recently, also motivated by anticipation of those
hardships that can no longer be that far ahead."

"Good." Did he know something I did not? Probably a
lot. "When and where?"

His grin became evil, revealing bad teeth. Which made me wonder
if Sleepy had found anybody to fill the dentistry vacancy left by
One-Eye's passing. The old fool had not bothered taking on
apprentices.

"When" was the crack of dawn and "where"
was the unpaved street outside Doj's small house, which he
shared with Tobo's uncle Thai Dei and several bachelor
officers of local origin. My fellow victims were Willow Swan, the
brothers Loftus and Cletus, who remain the Company's
principal architects and engineers, and the exiled ruling prince
and princess of Taglios, the Prahbrindrah Drah and his sister the
Radisha Drah. Those are not names, they are titles. Even after
decades I do not know their personal designations. And they show no
inclination to share.

"Where's your pal Blade?" I asked Swan. For a
while Blade had been Sleepy's military envoy to the File of
Nine, but I had heard that he had been recalled after
One-Eye's death. I had not seen him around, though.

"Old Blade's got too much on his plate for anything
like this."

Loftus and Cletus both grumbled under their breaths but did not
clarify. I had not seen much of them lately, either. I supposed
they were working themselves to death building a city from scratch.
Suvrin, who arrived just in time to hear what they mumbled, nodded
vigorously. "She's going to work us all till
there's nothing but grease spots left." I am not sure
about Suvrin. I have no trouble imagining him going around
endlessly repeating the silent mantra, "Every day in every
way I am going to become a better soldier."

"Well, old Blade never was real ambitious," Swan
replied. "Except when it came to carving up priests."
He seemed to know what he was talking about even if it was not
obvious to me.

Clete said, "If we're getting the straight shit from
Shivetya there'll be a whole new crop in need of culling
when we get home."

The Prahbrindrah Drah and his sister edged closer, eager for
hard news from home. Sleepy took no trouble to keep them posted.
She did not have much of a diplomatic streak. I had best remind her
that she will need their amity once we are back across the
plain.

They were not handsome, those two. And the Radisha looked more
like the Prince's mother than his sister. But he had been
under the ground with me while she rode the Taglian tiger and tried
not to lose its reins to Soulcatcher. They strove to remain
unobtrusive here, the Prince because he had been our active enemy
in the field, the Princess because she had turned on us at the very
last moment of our victory over the last Shadowmasters.

Sleepy fixed her for that.

Technically, the Radisha was our prisoner. Sleepy had abducted
her. She and her brother will become tools of the Company once
Sleepy stages our return. Everyone agrees. But I suspect that the
royals have reservations.

"Rajadharma." I said, bowing slightly. I could not
resist the taunt, reminding them both that by attempting to betray
us they had ended up failing to fulfill their duty to their
subjects.

"Liberator." The Radisha returned a tiny bow. I
swear, the woman gets homelier by the month. "You appear to
be healing well."

"I've got a knack for coming back. But my bounce
sure ain't as fast or as high as it used to be. Guess
it's old age creeping up." I lied and told her,
"You're looking well yourself. You both are. What have
you been doing? I haven't seen you for a while."

The Prahbrindrah Drah said nothing. He remained inscrutable. He
had been quiet and unexpressive since our resurrection. We had
gotten along well, once. But times change. Neither of us were the
men we had been during the Shadowmaster wars.

"You're lying like a snake's belly," the
Radisha told me. "I'm old and I'm ugly and
I'm still ashamed of myself . . . But
you're telling the lie my soul wants to hear. Forget
rajadharma, though. That accusation has no power to hurt me
anymore. From outside. I still crucify myself. I know what I did.
At the time I thought it was the right thing. The Protector
manipulated me using my sense of rajadharma. Once we get back there
you'll see us in a different light."

Rajadharma means the ruler's obligation to serve the
ruled. When the word is thrown into a ruler's face, or is
used as an epithet, it is a savage accusation of failure.

The Radisha is a hard, stubborn little woman. Unfortunately, she
will have to get the better of a hard, stubborn, crazy, almost
supremely powerful sorceress if she wants to fulfill her
expectations for herself.

I glanced at her brother. The Prince's expression had not
changed but I sensed that he thought he appreciated the
difficulties more fully than his sister did.

Uncle Doj whacked something with a practice sword. The loud
crack ended our chatter. "Your canes, please. On the count,
commence the Crane Kada." He did not bother to explain what
that was to the new guy.

Maybe two decades ago I had observed and briefly joined the
Nyueng Bao exercises. Murgen was Annalist then. He had had Gota,
Doj and his wife Sahra's brother, Thai Dei, living with him.
Doj expected me to remember.

About all I recalled of the Crane Kada was that it constituted
the first and simplest of a dozen slow-motion dances incorporating
all the formal steps and strokes of Doj's school of fencing.
The old priest led from up front, his back to his pupils. Although
he was the eldest of us all, he moved with a precision and grace
that verged on beauty. But when Thai Dei and Tobo joined us
briefly, later, both outshone the old man. It was hard not to stop
just to appreciate Tobo's mastery.

The boy made me feel clumsy and inept just standing still.

Everything came so easily for him.

He had all the talents and skills he could possibly need. If any
question remained, it concerned his character. A lot of good people
had worked hard to make sure that he became a virtuous and upright
man. Which he did appear to be. But he was a blade not yet tested.
True temptation had not yet whispered in his ear.

I missed a step badly, stumbled. Uncle Doj laid his cane across
the seat of my trousers as vigorously as if I had been an
adolescent. His face remained bland but I suspected that he had
wanted to do that for a long time.

I tried to concentrate.


Chapter 12 

Glittering Stone: Steadfast Guardian

The being on the
huge wooden throne in the heart of the fortress at the center of
the stone plain is a construct. Possibly he was created by the
gods, who fought their wars upon that plain. Or perhaps his
creators were the builders who constructed the plain--if they were
not gods themselves. Opinions vary. Stories abound. The demon
Shivetya himself is not disposed to be unstinting with the facts,
or is, at best, inconsistent in their distribution. He has shown
his latest chronicler several conflicting versions of ancient
events. Old Baladitya has abandoned all hope of establishing an
exact truth and, instead, seeks the deeper range of meaning
underpinning what the golem does reveal. Baladitya understands that
in addition to being foreign territory the past is, as history, a
hall of mirrors that reflect the needs of souls observing from the
present. Absolute fact serves the hungers of only a few
disconnected people. Symbol and faith serve the rest.

Baladitya's Company career duplicates his prior life. He
writes things down. When he was a copyist at the Taglian Royal
Library he wrote things down. Now, nominally, he is a prisoner of
war. Chances are he has forgotten that. In reality he is freer
today to pursue his own interests than ever he was at the
library.

The old scholar lives and works around the demon's feet.
Which has to be as close to personal heaven as a Gunni historian
can imagine. If the historian does not remain too determinedly
wedded to Gunni religious doctrine.

Shivetya's motives for refusing categorical declarations
may stem from bitterness about his lot. By his own admission he has
met most of the gods face-to-face. His recollections concerning
them are even less flattering than those spicing most of Gunni
mythology, where few of the gods are extolled as role models.
Almost without exception the Gunni deities are cruel and selfish
and untouched by any celestial sense of rajadharma.

A tall black man stepped into the light cast by
Baladitya's lamps. "Learned anything exciting today,
old-timer?" The copyist's fuel expenses are prodigal.
He is indulged.

The old man did not respond. He is almost deaf. He exploits his
infirmity to its limits. Not even Blade insists that he share
routine camp chores any longer.

Blade asked again but the copyist's nose remained close to
the page on which he was writing. His penmanship is swift and
precise. Blade cannot decipher the complicated ecclesiastical
alphabet, except for some of those characters it shares with the
only slightly simpler common script. Blade looked up into the
golem's eye. That appeared to be about the size of a
roc's egg. The adjective "baleful" fit it well.
Not even naive old Baladitya has ever proposed that the demon be
delivered from the restraint guaranteed by the daggers nailing its
limbs to the throne. Neither has the demon ever encouraged anyone
to release it. It has endured for thousands of years. It has the
patience of stone.

Blade tried another approach. "I've had a runner
come from the Abode of Ravens." He prefers the native name
for the Company's base. It is so much more dramatic than
Outpost or Bridgehead and Blade is a dramatic man fond of dramatic
gestures. "The Captain says she expects to acquire the needed
shadowgate knowledge shortly. Something is about to break loose in
Khang Phi. She wants me to get cracking getting more treasure
brought up. She wants you to finish finding everything out.
She'll be moving soon."

The copyist grunted. "He's easily bored, you
know."

"What?" Blade was startled, then angry. The old man
had not heard a word.

"Our host." The old man did not lift his eyes from
the page. It would take them too long to readjust.
"He's easily bored." Baladitya cared nothing
about the Company's plans. Baladitya was in paradise.

"You'd think we'd be a change that would
distract him."

"He's been distracted by mortals a thousand times
before. He's still here. None of those people are, except
those remembered in stone." The plain itself, though older
and vastly slower than Shivetya, might have a mind of its own.
Stone remembers. And stone weeps. "Their very empires have
been forgotten. How much chance is there that this time will be
different?"

Baladitya sounded a little empty. Not unreasonable, Blade
thought, considering the fact that he looked into the time abyss
represented by the demon all the time. Talk about vanity and
chasing after wind!

"Yet he's helping us. More or less."

"Only because he believes we're the last mayflies
he'll see. Excepting the Children of Night when they raise up
their Dark Mother. He's convinced that we're his last
chance to escape."

"And all we got to do to get his help is skrag the nasty
Goddess, then put his ass away for the long night." The
demon's gaze seemed to drill right through him.
"Nothing to it. Piece of cake, as Goblin used to say. Though
the saying doesn't make any literal sense." Blade
lifted his fingers to his eyebrow in a salute to the demon. Whose
eyes seemed to be smouldering now.

"God killing. That should be perfect work for
you."

Blade was unsure if Baladitya had spoken or Shivetya had entered
his mind. He did not like what the observation implied. It echoed
too closely Sleepy's thinking, which is why his posh job in
Khang Phi is gone and he has charge of operations on the plain,
having abandoned banquets and down mattresses for iron rations and
a bed of cold and silent stone shared only with unhappy, withered
dreams, a crazy scholar, miscellaneous thieves and a house-sized
lunatic demon half as old as time.

All his adult life Blade has been driven by a hatred for
religion. He has an especial abhorrence for its retailers.
Considering his current whereabouts and present occupation it seems
likely that he should have restrained his impulse to share his
opinions.

Blade could have sworn that, for an instant, a smile played
across the demon's features.

Blade chose not to comment.

He is a man of few words. He believes there is little point to
speech. He believes the golem eavesdrops on his thoughts. Unless it
has become so bored with ephemerals that it no longer pays
attention.

That hint of amusement again. Blade's speculation is not
valid. He should know better. Shivetya is interested in every
breath every brother of the Black Company takes. Shivetya has
anointed these men as the death-givers.

"You need anything?" Blade asked the old man,
resting a hand on his shoulder briefly. "Before I head down
below?" The contact is entirely contrived. But Baladitya
cares nothing about the touch, genuine or not.

Baladitya lifted his pen from his right hand with his left,
flexed his fingers. "I suppose I should eat something. I
can't recall when last I put fuel on the fire."

"I'll see that you get something." The
something was sure to be rice and spice and golem manna. If there
was anything Blade regretted about his life, it was having lived
most of it in a part of the world where a majority of the
population include a vegetarian diet within their religion and
those who do not mainly eat fish or chicken. Blade is ready to
start at whichever end of a spit-roast pig and not stop until he
reaches the other.

Blade's command, the thieves, the Company pathfinders,
includes twenty-six of the outfit's brightest and most
trusted youngsters, all Children of the Dead. They need to be both
smart and trustworthy because Sleepy wants to exploit the treasures
in the caverns beneath the plain and because they really have to
understand that the plain itself will not forgive them if they do
the wrong thing. Shivetya has extended his favor. Shivetya sees
everything and knows everything inside the gates of his universe.
Shivetya is the soul of the plain. No one comes or goes without
Shivetya's countenance, or at least his indifference. And in
the unlikely event that Shivetya remained indifferent to an
unauthorized theft, there was nowhere for a thief to run but back
to the shadowgate opening on the Land of Unknown Shadows. That was
the only shadowgate under control and functioning properly. That
was the only shadowgate not certain to kill the thief.

It was a long stroll across the great circle surrounding the
crude throne. That floor is anything but crude. It is an exact
one-eightieth scale representation of the plain outside, less the
memorial pillars that were added in a later age by men who failed
to possess even mythologized recollections of the builders.
Hundreds of manhours have gone into clearing the accumulated dirt
and dust off its surface so Shivetya can more clearly discern every
detail of his kingdom. Shivetya's throne rests upon a raised
wheel one-eightieth the size of this.

Decades ago, Soulcatcher's tampering triggered an
earthquake that battered the fortress and split its floor into a
vast crevasse. Outside the plain the disaster destroyed cities and
killed thousands. Today the only memorial of what had been a gap in
the floor a dozen yards wide and thousands of feet deep is a red
stripe meandering past the throne. It dwindles every day. As does
Shivetya, the mechanism ruling the plain heals itself.

The great circular model of the plain rises half a yard above
the rest of the floor, which exists at the level of the plain
outside.

Blade dropped off the edge of the wheel. He strode to a hole in
the floor, the head of stairs leading down. They descend for miles,
through caverns natural and created. The sleeping Goddess Kina lies
at the deepest level, patiently awaiting the Year of the Skulls and
the beginning of the Khadi Cycle, the destruction of the world. The
wounded Goddess Kina.

Shadows stirred along the nearby wall. Blade froze. Who? No way
that could be his people. Or, what?

Fear speared through Blade. Shadows in motion often presaged
cruel, screaming death. Had those things found a way into the
fortress? Their merciless feasting was not a horror he cared to
witness ever again. And in particular he did not want to be the
main course.

"The Nef," Blade told himself as three humanoid
shapes emerged from the darkness. He recognized them despite never
having seen them before. Hardly anyone did, outside of dreams. Or
maybe nightmares. The Nef were incredibly ugly. Though they might
have been wearing masks. The several descriptions available did not
agree except as to ugliness. He counted them off. "The
Washane. The Washene. The Washone." Names Shivetya had given
Sleepy years ago. What did they mean? Did they mean anything at
all? "How did they get in here?" The answer might be
critical. Killer shadows might exploit the same opening.

As the Nef always did, they tried to communicate something. In
the past their efforts inevitably failed. But this time their
appeal seemed obvious. They did not want Blade to go down those
stairs.

Sleepy, Master Santaraksita, and others who have been in contact
with Shivetya believe that the Nef are artificial reproductions of
the beings who created the plain. Shivetya brought them into
existence because he longed for a connection with something
approximating those whose artifice had wrought the great engine and
its pathways between the worlds, because he was lonely.

Shivetya has lost his will to live. If he should perish,
whatever he has created himself will go with him. The Nef are not
yet prepared to embrace oblivion, despite the endless horror and
tedium existence upon the plain imposes.

Blade spread his hands at his sides in a gesture of
helplessness. "You guys need to polish your communication
skills." Not a sound came from the Nef but their growing
frustration became palpable. Which had been a constant from the
first time anyone had dreamt of them.

Blade stared. He did try to understand. He considered the
ironies of the Black Company's adventure across the
glittering plain. He was an atheist himself. His journey had
brought him face-to-face with a complete ecology of supernatural
entities. And Tobo and Sleepy, whom he considered reliable
witnesses otherwise, claimed actually to have seen the grim Goddess
Kina who, myth suggested, lay imprisoned a mile beneath his
feet.

Sleepy, of course, faced her crises of faith. A devout
Vehdna monotheist, she never, ever encountered any worldly
sustenance for her beliefs. Though supportive evidence is thin, the
Gunni religion only creaks badly under the burden of the knowledge
we have unearthed. The Gunni are polytheists accustomed to having
their gods assume countless aspects and avatars, shapes and
disguises. So much so that, in some myths, those gods seem to be
murdering or cuckolding themselves. The Gunni have the flexibility
to look at every discovery, as Master Santaraksita has, and declare
new information to be just another way of proclaiming the same old
divine truths.

God is god, whatever his name. Blade has seen those sentiments
inlaid in the wall tiles in several places in Khang Phi.

Whenever anyone strays far from Shivetya, a ball of earthy brown
glow tags along. It hovers above and behind one shoulder or
another. The ball does not shed much light but in what otherwise
would be utter darkness they are sufficient. They are the
golem's doing. Shivetya has powers he has forgotten how to
use. He might be a small god himself if he was not nailed to his
ancient throne.

Blade descended nearly a thousand steps before he encountered
anyone headed upward. This soldier carried a heavy pack.
"Sergeant Vanh."

The soldier grunted. Already he was winded. No one made more
than one trip a day. Blade gave Vanh the bad news because he might
not run into him again for days. "Had a message from the
Captain. We have to step it up. She's almost ready to
move."

Vanh mumbled the sorts of things soldiers always do. He
continued his climb. Blade wondered how Sleepy planned to haul off
the mountain of treasure already accumulated up top. It was, for
sure, enough to finance a pretty good war.

Another thousand steps downward, repeating his message several
times. He left the stair at the level everyone called the Cave of
the Ancients because of the old men interred there. Blade always
stopped to visit his friend Cordy Mather. It was a ritual of respect.
Cordy was dead. Most of the others confined in the cave remained
alive, enmeshed in stasis spells. Somehow, during the long
Captivity, Mather had shed the spells confining him. And success
had cost him his life. He had not been able to find his way
out.

Most of the old men in the cave meant nothing to Blade or the
Company. Only Shivetya knew who they were or why they had been
interred. Certainly they had irked someone armed with the power to
confine them. Several corpses, though, had been Company brothers
when still alive. Several others had been captives before
Soulcatcher buried the Company. Death had found them because,
evidently, Cordy Mather had tried to wake them up. Touching the
Captured without sorcerous precautions inevitably caused the death
of the touched.

Blade resisted the urge to kick the sorcerer Longshadow. That
madman was a commodity of incalculable worth in the Land of Unknown
Shadows. The Company had grown strong and wealthy because of him.
It continued to prosper. "How you doing, Shadowmaster? Looks
like you'll be here a while yet." Blade assumed the
sorcerer could not hear him. He could not recall having heard
anything when he was under the enchantment himself. He could not
recall having been aware in any way, though Murgen said there were
times when it looked like the Captured were aware of their
surroundings. "They haven't pushed the bidding high
enough yet. I hate to admit it but you really are a popular guy. In
your own special way." Not a generous or forgiving or even
empathetic man, Blade stood with hands on hips staring down at
Longshadow. The sorcerer looked like a skeleton barely covered by
diseased skin. His face was locked into a scream. Blade told him,
"They still say, `All Evil Dies There an Endless
Death.' Especially when they're talking about
you."

Not far from Longshadow is the Company's other insane
sorcerer prisoner, the Howler. This one presents a greater
temptation. Blade saw no value whatsoever to keeping Howler alive.
The little shit has a history of treachery that goes way, way back
and a character unlikely to change because of this confinement. He
survived a similar Captivity before. That one endured for
centuries.

Tobo did not need to learn any of the Howler's evil crap.
And Tobo's education was the only excuse Blade had heard for
letting the little ragbag live.

Blade paid his deepest respects to Mather. Cordy was a good
friend for a long time. Blade owes Cordy his life. He wished the
evil fortune had befallen him. Cordy wanted to live. Blade believes
he is proceeding on inertia.

Blade continued his descent into the earth, past the treasure
caverns that were being looted to finance the Company's
homegoing, it was hoped on a spectacularly memorable scale.

Blade is not much given to emotional vapors or seizures of fear.
He has a cool enough head to have survived for years as a Company
agent inside Longshadow's camp. But as he moved deeper into
the earth he began to twitch and sweat. His pace slackened. He
passed the last known cavern. Nothing lay below that but the
ultimate enemy, the Mother of Night herself. She was the enemy who
would still be waiting once all the other, lesser adversaries had
been brushed aside or extinguished.

To Kina, the Black Company is an annoying buzz in the ear, a
mosquito that has gotten away with taking a sip or two of blood and
has not had the good sense to get the hell away.

Blade slowed again. The light following him kept weakening.
Where once he could see clearly twenty steps ahead now he could see
only ten, the farther four seeming to be behind the face of a
thickening black fog. Here the darkness seemed almost alive. Here
the darkness felt as though it was under much greater pressure, the
way water seemed to exert more as you swam deeper beneath its
surface.

Blade found it harder to breathe. He forced himself to do so,
deeply and rapidly, then went on, against the insistence of
instinct. A silver chalice took form in the fog, just five steps
below. It stood about a foot tall, a simple tall cup made of noble
metal. Blade had placed it there. It marked the lowest step he had
yet been able to reach.

Now each step downward seemed to take place against the
resistance of liquid tar. Each step brought the darkness crushing
in harder. The light from behind was too weak to reach even one
step beyond the chalice.

Blade makes this effort frequently. He accounts it exercise for
his will and courage. Each descent he manages to make it as far as
the chalice mostly by being angry that he cannot push past it.

This time he tried something different. He threw a handful of
coins collected from one of the treasure caves. His arm had no
strength but gravity had not lost its power nor had sound been
devoured by the darkness. The coins tinkled away down the
stairwell. But not for long. After a moment it sounded like they
were rolling around on a floor. Then they were silent. Then a tiny
little voice from far, far away cried, "Help."


Chapter 13 

The Land of Unknown Shadows: Traveling
Hsien

The physical
geography of the Land of Unknown Shadows closely recollects that of
our own world. The essential differences stem from the impact of
man.

The moral and cultural topographies of the worlds are completely
different, though. Even the Nyueng Bao still have trouble making
any real connection here--despite the fact that they and the
Children of the Dead share common ancestors. But the Nyueng Bao
escaped Maricha Manthara
Dhumraksha and his kin centuries ago, then developed as a
cultural island constantly washed by alien waves.

Hsien proper spans roughly the same territories as what were
known as the Shadowlands at home when things were going well for
the Shadowmasters. The farther reaches of Hsien, that none of us
have visited, are more heavily populated than our own. In olden
times every town here boasted its kernel of resistance to the
Shadowmasters. Few of those groups communicated because of travel
restrictions imposed by the master race. Still, when the uprising
did come there were local champions enough to ensure success.

The flight of the last Shadowmasters left a power vacuum. The
resistance chieftains anointed themselves to fill it. Hsien remains
in the custody of their descendants, scores of warlords in constant
conflict, few of whom ever get any stronger. Any who appear to be
gaining strength are torn apart by their neighbors.

The File of Nine is an anonymous, loose assembly of senior
warlords, supposedly drawn one each from the nine provinces of
Hsien. This is not true and never has been--though few outside the
Nine know it. That is just one more fiction helping keep the
current state of chaos alive.

Popularly, the File of Nine is seen as a cabal of secret masters
who control everything. The File of Nine would love that to be true
but, in reality, they have very little power. Their situation
leaves them with few tools they can use to enforce their will. Any
real effort to impose anything would betray their identities. So
they mostly issue bulls and pretend to speak for Hsien. Sometimes
people listen. And sometimes they listen to the monks of Khang Phi.
Or to the Court of All Seasons. So each must be wooed.

The Black Company is feared mainly because it is a joker in the
warlord deck. It has no local allegiance. It could jump any
direction for any alien reason. Worse, it is reputed to include
powerful wizards assisting skilled soldiers led by competent
commanders and sergeants, none of whom are at all handicapped by
excesses of empathy or compassion.

What popularity the Company enjoys essentially arises from its
capacity to deliver the last Shadowmaster to the justice of Hsien.
And among peasants, from the fact that nervous warlords have reined
in their squabbles amongst themselves considerably while they have
this unpredictable monster crouched, growing rapidly, to their
south.

All the lords and leaders of Hsien, in the last, would prefer
that the Company went away. Our presence places too much strain on
the state of things as they are and always have been.

I attached myself to the deputation headed for Khang Phi even
though I was not yet completely recovered. I would never be
one-hundred percent again. I had some blurring in my right eye. I
had acquired some truly intimidating burn scars. I would never
regain the full range of motion in the fingers of my right hand.
But I was convinced that I could be an asset in our negotiations
for the shadowgate secrets.

Only Sahra agreed with me. But Sahra is our foreign minister.
Only she has the patience and tact to deal with such fractious folk
as the File of Nine--part of whose problem with us is that our women
do more than cook and lie on their backs.

Of course, of Lady, Sleepy, Sahra and the Radisha I suspect only
Sahra can heat water without burning it. And she may have forgotten
how by now.

The Company on the move, bound for the intellectual heart of
Hsien, was a terror to behold, judging by the response of peasants
along the way. And that despite the fact that our party, guards
included, numbered just twenty-one. Human souls.

Tobo's shadowy friends surrounded and paced us, in such
numbers that it was impossible for them to remain unseen all the
time. Old fears and superstitions exploded in our wake, then terror
ran ahead far faster than we could travel. People scattered when we
approached. It made no difference that Tobo's night pals were
well-behaved. Superstition completely outweighed any practical
evidence.

Had we been more numerous we would not have gotten past Khang
Phi's gate. Even there, among supposed intellectuals, the
fear of the Unknown Shadows was thick enough to slice.

Sahra had had to agree, long ago, that neither Lady nor One-Eye
nor Tobo would enter the Repose of Knowledge. The monks were
particularly paranoid about sorcerers. Hitherto it had suited
Sleepy to comply with their wishes. And none of those three were
part of our party when we arrived at the Lower Gate of Khang
Phi.

There was a strange young woman in our midst. She used the name
Shikhandini, Shiki for short. She could easily arouse almost any
man who did not know she was Tobo in disguise. Nobody bothered to
tell me what or why but Sahra was up to something. Tobo was,
obviously, an extra card she wanted tucked up her sleeve. Moreover,
she suspected several of the Nine of harboring evil ambitions which
would soon flower.

What? Men of power possessed of secret agendas? No! That does
not seem possible.

Khang Phi is a center of learning and spirituality. It is a
repository for knowledge and wisdom. It is extremely ancient. It
survived the Shadowmasters. It commands the respect of all the
Children of the Dead, throughout the Land of Unknown Shadows. It is
neutral ground, a part of no warlord's demesne. Travelers
bound toward Khang Phi, or returning home therefrom, are in theory
immune.

Theory and practice are sometimes at variance. Therefore we
never let Sahra travel without obvious protection.

Khang Phi is built against the face of a mountain. It rises a
thousand whitewashed feet into the bellies of permanent clouds. The
topmost structures cannot be seen from below.

At the same site in our world a barren cliff broods over the
southern entrance to the only good pass through the mountains known
as the Dandha Presh.

A life misspent making war left me wondering if the place had
not begun its existence as a fortress. It certainly commanded that
end of the pass. I looked for the fields necessary to sustain its
population. And they were there, clinging to the sides of the
mountains in terraces like stairsteps for splay-legged giants.
Ancient peoples carried the soil in from leagues away, a basket at
a time, generation after generation. No doubt the work goes on
today.

Master Santaraksita, Murgen and Thai Dei met us outside the
ornate Lower Gate. I had not seen them for a long time, though
Murgen and Thai Dei attended the funeral ceremonies for Gota and
One-Eye. I missed them because I was unconscious at the time. Fat
old Master Santaraksita never went anywhere anymore. That elderly
scholar was content to end his days in Khang Phi, pretending to be
the Company's agent. Here he was among his own kind. Here he
had found a thousand intellectual challenges. Here he had found
people as eager to learn from him as he was eager to learn from
them. He was a man who had come home.

He welcomed Sleepy with open arms. "Dorabee! At
last." He insisted on calling her Dorabee because it was the
first name he had known her by. "You must let me show you the
master library while you're here! It absolutely beggars that
pimple we managed in Taglios." He surveyed the rest of us.
Merriment deserted him. Sleepy had brought the ugly boys along. The
kind of guys he believed would use books for firewood on a chilly
night. Guys like me, who bore scars and were missing fingers and
teeth and had skin colors the likes of which were never seen in the
Land of Unknown Shadows.

Sleepy told him, "I didn't come for a holiday back
in the stacks, Sri. One way or another I've got to get that
shadowgate information. The news I'm getting from the other
side isn't encouraging. I need to get the Company back into
action before it's too late."

Santaraksita nodded, looked around for eavesdroppers, winked and
nodded again.

Willow Swan leaned back, looked up, asked me, "Think you
can make it to the top?"

"Give me a few days." Actually, I am in better shape
now than I was that evil night. I have lost a lot of weight and
have put on muscle.

I still get winded easily, though.

Swan said, "Lie all you want, old man." He
dismounted, handed his reins to one of the youngsters beginning to
swarm around. They were all boys between eight and twelve, all as
silent as if they had had their vocal cords cut. They all wore
identical pale brown robes. Parents unable to provide for them had
donated them to Khang Phi as infants. These had surpassed a
particular milestone on their path to becoming monks. We were
unlikely to see anyone younger.

Swan picked up a stone two inches in diameter. "I'm
going to throw this when we get up top. I want to watch it
fall."

Parts of Swan never grew up. He still skips stones across ponds
and rivers. He tried to teach me the art coming to Khang Phi. My
hand and fingers will no longer conform to the shape of a proper
skipping stone. There is a lot they cannot accomplish anymore.
Managing a pen while writing is chore enough.

I miss One-Eye.

"Just don't bomp some asshole warlord on the noggin.
Most of them don't like us much already." They were
afraid of us. And they could find no way to manipulate us. They
kept giving us provisions and letting us recruit in hopes we will
go away eventually. Leaving Longshadow behind. We did not inform
them that local financing would not be needed to underwrite our
campaign beyond the plain.

After four hundred years it has become a given: You keep
everybody outside just a little bit nervous. And you do not tell
them anything they do not need to know.

Longshadow. Maricha Manthara Dhumraksha. He has several other
names here as well. None indicate popularity.
As long as we have the ability to deliver him in chains the
warlords will tolerate almost anything. Twenty generations of
ancestors cry out for justice.

I suspect Longshadow's wickedness has grown with the
retelling, thereby making giants of the heroes who drove him
out.

Though they are soldiers themselves the warlords do not
understand us. They fail to recognize the fact that they are
soldiers of a different breed, drawn on by a smaller destiny.


Chapter 14 

The Land of Unknown Shadows: Khang Phi

Swan and I stood
looking out a window outside the conference hall where we would
engage the File of Nine in negotiations. Eventually. It took them a
while to sneak into Khang Phi, then change their disguises so their
identities would remain unknown. We saw nothing below but mist.
Swan did not waste his stone. I said, "I thought I was back
in shape. I was wrong. I ache all over."

Swan said, "They say some people here go their whole lives
without ever moving more than a floor or two after they finish
their apprenticeship and get their assignments."

"Kind of people that balance out you and me," I
said. Swan had not traveled as far as I had but at a world's
remove an extra few thousand miles does not seem important. I tried
to make out the rocky ground we had traversed approaching Khang
Phi. The mist just seemed darker when I looked down.

"Thinking about taking the easy way back down?" Swan
asked.

"No. I'm thinking being isolated like this might
leave you with a very limited worldview." Not to mention the
impact of the scarcity of females in Khang Phi. The few there are
belong to an order of celibate nuns who care for the donated
infants, the very old and the very sick. The rest of the population
consists of monks, all of whom were donated and all of whom are
sworn to chastity, too. The more fanatic brothers render themselves
physically incapable of yielding to temptation. Which makes most of
my brothers shudder and consider them more bizarre than
Tobo's shadowy friends. No soldier likes the thought of
losing his best friend and favorite toy.

"A narrow view can be as much a strength as a weakness,
Liberator," a voice observed from behind us. We turned.
Sleepy's friend, Surendranath Santaraksita, was joining us.
The scholar has gone native, adopting local garb and assuming the
Khang Phi haircut--which is no hair at all--but only a deaf and blind
man would take him for a local monk. His skin is more brown and
less translucent than that of any native and his features are
shaped more like mine and Swan's. "That mist and their
narrowness of vision allows the monks to avoid forming worldly
attachments. Thus their neutrality remains beyond
reproach."

I did not mention Khang Phi's one-time role as an
apologist for and collaborator with the reign of the Shadowmasters.
That embarrassing dab of history was being expunged by the acids of
time and relentless lie.

Santaraksita was happy. He was convinced that in this place
learned men did not have to prostitute themselves to temporal
powers in order to remain scholars. He believed even the File of
Nine deferred to the wisdom of the eldest monks. He was unable to
see that if the Nine acquired more power Khang Phi's
relationship to the File would soon lapse into subservience. Master
Santaraksita is brilliant but naive.

"How's that?" I asked him.

"These monks are so innocent of the world that they
don't try to impose anything on it."

"Yet the File of Nine presume to speak from here."
The File enjoy issuing bulls which are, more often than not,
ignored by the population and warlords.

"They will, yes. The Elders want them to. In hopes that a
little wisdom will rub off before their power becomes more than
symbolic."

I said nothing about leading horses to water. I made no
observations concerning the wisdom of backing a cabal of secret
masters in preference to one strongman or the remnant aristocracy
of the Court of All Seasons. I did admit, "It does look like
they're trying to do what's best for Hsien. But I
don't trust anybody who'll bet their pot on guys who
hide behind masks." No need to tell him the File have no
secrets from us. Little that they do or discuss goes unremarked by
Tobo's familiars. None of their identities are secrets to
us.

We operate on the assumption that both the File and the other
warlords have placed spies among our recruits. Which explains why
there is little resistance to our recruiting amongst the Children
of the Dead.

It is not difficult to identify most of the spies. Sleepy shows
them what she wants them to see. Being a spiteful, vengeful little
witch, I am sure she plans to use those spies cruelly at some later
time.

She worries me. She has her own old hatreds to redress but their
objects escaped life unpunished a long time ago. But there is
always the chance she might choose somebody else to take the heat,
which would not be to the Company's advantage.

I asked Santaraksita, "What did you want?"

"Nothing special." His face went coolly neutral. He
is Sleepy's friend. I make him uncomfortable. He has read my
Annals. Despite what Sleepy has dragged him through he cannot yet
come to grips with the cruel realities of our sort of life. I am
sure that he will not go home with us. "I did hope to see
Dorabee again before you went into conference. It could be
important."

"I don't know what happened to her. Shiki's
missing, too. They were supposed to meet us here." Local
mores made it impossible for women to share quarters with men. Even
Sahra has to room separately from Murgen, though they are legally
married. And Shikhandini's presence saddled Sahra with
special obligations. She wanted the holy men distracted but not to
the point where they went berserk. Just enough, maybe, so they
would give way on a subtle point or two. Though distraction would
not be Shiki's principal mission.

Master Santaraksita wrung his hands briefly, then folded his
arms. His hands disappeared into the sleeves of his robe. He was
worried. I looked closer. He knew something. I glanced at Swan.
Swan shrugged.

Murgen and Thai Dei puffed into the room. Murgen demanded,
"Where are they?" Thai Dei looked worried but said
nothing. He would not. The man seldom says anything. It was a pity
his sister could not learn from his example.

Thai Dei knew something, too.

"Haven't shown yet," Swan said.

"The File of Nine will be angry," I added.
"Are Sleepy and Sahra dealing some kind of game?"

Santaraksita backed away nervously. "The Unknowns
aren't here yet, either."

My companions were a diverse bunch. Once Sleepy arrived we would
include five races. Six counting Santaraksita as one of us. Sleepy
believes our sheer diversity intimidates the File of Nine.

Sleepy entertains other notions even more strange.

I do not know why she thought cowing them would mean anything.
All we needed from them was their permission to research the
knowledge needed to mend and manipulate shadowgates. The monks of
Khang Phi were willing to share that knowledge. The stronger we
grow the more eagerly the monks want us gone. They are more
frightened of the heresies we propagate than they are of any armies
we might bring back later.

The latter dread keeps the warlords awake at night. But they do
want us gone, too, because the stronger we grow here the more real
and immediate a threat do they perceive. And I do not blame them
for thinking that way. I would do so myself, in their boots. The
entirety of human experiences argues on behalf of suspicion of
strangers laden with weapons.

The womenfolk made their advent. Willow Swan spread his arms
wide and declaimed dramatically, "Where have you been?"
He struck a second pose and tried the line another way. Then he
went with a third. Making fun.

Sahra told Thai Dei, "Your daughter kept flirting with the
acolytes we encountered along the way."

I glanced at Shiki, frowned. The girl seemed almost ethereal,
not at all vampish. I blinked but the fuzzy quality did not go
away. I blamed my damaged eye. The girl seemed more a distracted
ghost than a boy in disguise having fun with a role.

In Hsien's eyes Thai Dei passed as Shiki's father
because it was well known that Sahra had just the one son. Her
brother, Thai Dei, has managed to remain so obscure that even at
the Abode of Ravens the locals never raise a question about the
fact that the seldom-seen Shikhandini would have had to have been
born while her father was buried beneath the plain. Nor did anyone
seem much inclined to ask what had become of the girl's
mother. She could be dismissed with a few vague, angry mutters.

Shiki was always empty-headed, always in minor trouble, always
considered a threat only to the equilibrium of young men's
minds.

Shiki solidified. She pouted. She said, "I wasn't
flirting, Father. I was just talking." Her words should have
been argumentative but just sounded flat, rote.

"You were told not to speak to the monks. That's the
law here."

"But Father . . . "

The act never stopped once it started. There might be watchers.
But it was an act. And a pretty good one, at least to those of us
unaccustomed to dealing with very young women.

Master Santaraksita kept whispering to Sleepy. He must have said
something she wanted to hear because her face lit up like a beacon.
She did not bother to report to the Annalist, though. These
Captains are all alike. Always playing their hands close to their
chest. Except for me, of course. I was a paragon of openness in my
time.

Thai Dei and his daughter continued to squabble till he issued
some loud diktat in heated Nyueng Bao that left her sulking and
silent.


Chapter 15 

The Land of Unknown Shadows: The Secret
Masters

An old, old monk
opened the door to the meeting chamber. The task was a great chore
for him. He beckoned with one frail hand.

This was my first visit to Khang Phi but I knew him by his
robes, which were dark orange edged with black. They distinguished
him as one of the four or five eldest of Khang Phi. His presence
made it clear that Khang Phi's monks were deeply interested
in this meeting's outcome. Otherwise some midlevel
sixty-year-old would have handled the door and then would have hung
on to manage the acolytes who were supposed to attend to the
comfort of both us and the Nine. Master Santaraksita smiled. Maybe
he had had something to do with this meeting having been invested
with importance.

Sahra approached the old man. She bowed, murmured a few words.
He responded. They knew one another and he did not disdain her for
her sex. The monks might be wiser than I had thought.

We soon learned that she had asked if everyone could reduce the
ceremony that attends all functions of the Children of the Dead.
Formalities imbue every occasion with elaborate ritual. People must
not have had much that was practical to do during the reign of the
Shadowmasters.

We barbarians do not know the proper forms. The Children of the
Dead hoist their noses around us--then sigh in relief because
uncomfortable business gets handled quickly when the Black Company
is on the far side of the carpet.

Our host scowled at Shikhandini. He was old and bitter and
narrow. But! Behold! Not so old and bitter and narrow that a
shimmering smile from a beautiful girl would not put a momentary
twinkle in his eye. Never that old.

From earliest times our enemies have accused us of fighting
dirty, of dealing in trickery and treachery. And they are right.
Absolutely right. We are shameless. And this was about as dirty as
we could get, having Tobo vamp these old men. They knew women only
in the most academic fashion. It was easier than plinking blind men
with arrows.

It was all so effortless. Shiki just seemed to float around, not
quite all there, not paying much attention, showing none of the
enjoyment I expected of Tobo. I mean, what man his age does not
enjoy making fools of wise old men? Everything I knew about Tobo
suggested he would enjoy that more than most.

I was getting curious. What was going on? Sleepy claimed the kid
was along because she wanted a wizard handy. Just in case. Being
paranoid. Having been made that way by lifetimes of treachery from
outside. And Khang Phi law would keep Tobo out if he came as
himself. She wanted me to believe.

There would be more. Much, much more. I understand the sneaky
little witch better than she suspects. And I approve,
thoroughly.

"Move," Sleepy said. She was uncomfortable in Khang
Phi. The place is infested with the trappings of strange
religions.

The chamber we entered undoubtedly served some high ceremonial
purpose when not on loan to the File of Nine. That end where the
warlords waited could pass for an altar and its associated clutter.
The warlords had seated themselves above us, in front of the
possible altar, where five large stone seats were in place
permanently. Seven of the Nine were on hand. Chairs had been
dragged in for the surplus pair, presumably the junior members of
the quorum. All seven wore masks and disguises, which seems to be
customary with secret masters--and here possibly a legacy of the
Shadowmasters who had found masks and disguises very fashionable.
In this case that was a waste of effort. But they did not need to
know that. Not right away.

Lady has a talent for rooting out true names and identities. She
learned in a deadly school. She has taught Tobo some of her tricks.
He unearthed the identities of the members of the File, using his
supernatural friends. Knowing who we might find, in the event we
developed a corporate inclination to surprise somebody, should
prove to be a valuable bargaining tool.

Sahra had dealt with the File before. They were accustomed to
her impatience with ceremony. They paid attention when she stepped
forward.

Master Santaraksita trailed her by three paces. He would serve
as a specialist translator. Though the Children of the Dead and the
Nyueng Bao spoke the same language in times past, separation and
circumstance have conspired to make misunderstandings common.
Santaraksita would have to point out those instances when the
parties were using the same word with different meanings.

Sleepy moved a few steps forward but stayed closer to the rest
of us than to the warlords.

Sleepy started humming. She was determined to appear cheerful
despite being surrounded by unrepentant heathens.

Sahra stepped forward again. She asked, "Are the File
ready to stop objecting to the Company gaining the knowledge we
need to repair shadowgates? You have to understand that we
won't leave Hsien without it. We're still prepared to
turn over the criminal Dhumraksha." The same offer had been
before the File all along. They wanted something more but never
articulated it--though supernatural espionage revealed that they
hoped to gain our support in establishing a much stronger File
position. Only they did not dare suggest that themselves before the
witnesses that always exist when negotiations take place in Khang
Phi.

The masks faced Sahra's way. None of the Unknowns
responded. You could sense their exasperation. Lately they had
begun to believe, on no creditable evidence, that they had some
power over us. Probably because we had not gotten into the sort of
pissing contest with any of our neighbors that would have
demonstrated the lethal inequalities between their forces and ours.
We would devour most of the local armies.

Sleepy stepped past Santaraksita, took position beside Sahra. In
passible local dialect she said, "I am Captain of the Black
Company. I will speak." Facing a warlord wearing a mask
surmounted by a crane's head, she continued, "Tran Thi
Kim-Thoa, you are Last Entered of the File." The warlords
stirred. "You are young. Possibly you know no one whose life
and pain would regain meaning if Maricha Manthara Dhumraksha came
back here to atone for his sins. I understand that. Youth is always
impatient with the pasts of its elders--seven when that past crushes
down upon youth's shoulders."

She paused.

Seven silk-clad butts shifted nervously, filling an extended
silence with soft rustles. All us Company people grinned, baring
our fangs. Exactly like those rock apes around Outpost, trying to
intimidate one another.

Sleepy had named the newest of the Nine. His identity would be
no secret to the other eight. They had chosen him when last there
was an opening in their circle. He would be ignorant of their
identities--unless some of the older warlords had chosen to reveal
themselves. Each warlord normally knew only those elected to the
File after themselves. By naming the Last Entered, Sleepy offered
another threat while endangering just the one Unknown.

Sleepy beckoned. "Croaker." I stepped forward.
"This is Croaker. He was Captain before me and Dictator to
All the Taglias. Croaker, before us we have Tran Huu Dung and six
others of the File of Nine." She did not specify this
Tran's position in the File. His name caused another stir,
though.

She beckoned Swan. "This is Willow Swan, a longtime
associate of the Black Company. Willow, I present Tran Huu Nhan and
six others of the File of Nine. Tran is a common patronym in Hsien.
There are a lot of Trans among the Nine, none of them related by
blood."

The next name she offered, after introducing Willow Swan, was
Tran Huu Nhang. I began to wonder how they kept themselves sorted
out. Maybe by weight. Several of the File carried some surplus
poundage.

When Sleepy named the last of the Trans of the File, Tran
Lan-Anh, their spokesman, the First, interrupted her with a request
for time to confer. Sleepy bowed, offered him no further
provocation. We knew that he was Pham Thi Ly of Ghu Phi, an
excellent general with a good reputation among his troops, a
believer in a unified Hsien, but old enough to have lost his
zest for struggle. By the slightest of nods Sleepy let him know
that his identity was no secret, either.

Sleepy announced, "We have no interest in coming back to
Hsien once we return to the plain." As though that was some
dear secret we had held clutched close to our hearts forever. Any
spy among us would have reported that we just wanted to go home.
"Like the Nyueng Bao who fled to our world, we came here only
because we had no choice." Doj would not have accepted her
assessment of Nyueng Bao history, brief as it might be. In his eye
his immigrant ancestors had been a band of adventurers similar to
the forebrethren of the Black Company, who had gone forth from
Khatovar. "We're strong now. We're ready to go
home. Our enemies there will cringe, unmanned by the news of our
coming."

I did not believe that for an instant. Soulcatcher would be
pleased to see us. A good squabble would relieve the tedium of her
daily grind. Being an all-powerful ruler actually takes most of the
fun out of life. In the heyday of her dark empire, my wife had made
that discovery, too. Management trivia consumes you.

Lady hated it enough to walk away. But misses it now.

Sleepy said, "We lack only the knowledge to repair our
shadowgate, so that our world isn't overrun by the Host of
the Unforgiven Dead."

Our spokespeople never fail to harp on that point. It remains
central to every statement of our purpose. We would wear the Nine
down. They would give in so they would not have to hear about it
anymore. They were, however, extremely paranoid about the risk of
another otherworld invasion.

If they were hard asses they could try to outstubborn us, hoping
we would give up, go home, and have our shadowgate fall apart
behind us. That would end our threat permanently.

The power of the File lies in the anonymity of its members. When
warlords get together to plot they are restrained by the
possibility that among them is one of the Nine. The File publishes
any schemes it uncovers, thereby focusing the wrath of warlords not
included in the plan. It is a clumsy system but it has kept
conflict limited for generations by making it difficult to forge
alliances.

Sleepy could expose the File. If they were betrayed, chaos would
come baying right behind. Few warlords like having their ambitions
held in check--though restraints had to be imposed on all those
other villains.

The Unknowns did not like being bullied, either. Those whose
names had been betrayed soon grew so angry the elder monk placed
himself between parties as a reminder of where we were.

Being an old soldier, I began a swift inventory of resources
available for a fight if some warlord was dim enough to force one.
I was not reassured. Our greatest asset was missing.

Where did Shiki go? When did she go? Why?

I needed to keep a closer eye on my surroundings. An oversight
this big could turn fatal.

One masked warlord bounded out of his chair. He yipped and
slapped his buttocks. We gaped. Silence fell. The man began to
gather his dignity. A trill of faint high-pitched laughter sparkled
in the silence. Something with humming diamond wings darted about
too fast to be made out clearly. It left the room before anybody
could react.

Sahra observed, "Most of the Hidden Realm will follow us
when we leave. Possibly so much of it that Hsien will no longer be
the Land of Unknown Shadows."

Master Santaraksita murmured in her ear. That irked the warlords
and the old referee elder, too. The monk was particularly unhappy
because the ladies kept spinning those implied threats. But he was
cautious. The Company was up to something new. This was
frightening. Had the outsiders run out of patience? All Hsien
nurtures some fears of the sleeping tiger of the Abode of Ravens.
And we make a point of encouraging them.

When I looked around again there was Shikhandini.
How? . . . 

I studied her, expecting to see some deviltry suggested by her
stance or expression. There was nothing there. The kid was stone
cold indifferent.

Sahra waved Santaraksita away. He scurried over to Sleepy,
murmured some more. Sleepy nodded but did not do anything else.
That left the old scholar looking like he was about to panic.

Shiki's disappearance and reappearance made it more
obvious than ever that there was something going on. Obvious to the
former Captain, anyway. And the former Captain had been told
nothing beforehand.

The ladies were into one of their schemes. And that would be the
real reason they wanted Shiki along. Shiki brought an awesome array
of weapons into the game.

And they had had me convinced that they just wanted the magic
handy in case somebody suffered an impulse to be unpleasant, which
happens all too frequently when we are around.

The Radisha and the Prahbrindrah Drah still mourn their
treacherous impulses.

I told Swan, "This business was a lot more fun when I was
the one scheming and being mysterious."

The First of the File said, "Will you do us the courtesy
of withdrawing for a moment, Captain? Ambassador? I believe a
consensus may be within reach."

While we waited in the antechamber, Swan asked, "Why did
he bother asking us to leave? After what happened? Does he really
think we won't know what's going on in there?"
Things moved in the corners of my vision. Strings of shadow snaked
over the walls until I tried to look at them directly. Then, of
course, nothing was visible.

"Possibly he didn't catch all the
implications." Like the fact that something would be
eavesdropping on every word he spoke until the Black Company left
the Land of Unknown Shadows. At this late date anything he tried to
pull together would be a complete wasted effort.

"Let's go," Sleepy said. "Move out.
Croaker. Swan. Quit jacking your jaws and get moving."

"Moving where?" I asked.

"Downstairs. Home. Get going."

"But . . . " This was not what I
expected. A good Black Company trick ends up with lots of fire and
bloodshed, the vast majority of both not inflicted upon us.

Sleepy growled. It was a pure animal sound. "If I'm
going to be Captain I'm going to be Captain. I'm not
going to discuss or debate or request preapproval from the old
folks. Get moving."

She had a point. I had made it a few times myself, in my day. I
had to set an example. I went.

"Good luck," Sleepy told Sahra. She strode toward
the nearest stairwell. I followed. Presumably better trained by
Sleepy's predecessor, the others were clattering down those
ancient stairs already. Only Sahra and Master Santaraksita remained
behind, though Shiki did hover around Sahra briefly, as though
interested in a parting hug.

"Interesting," Sleepy observed. "It's
such a good mimic that it almost forgets itself."

She was talking to herself, not to the Captain-Emeritus. He no
longer needed an explanation. He had seen this stuff before. The
ladies were going to take the information that we needed.
Santaraksita had located it and had tagged it and now our own
people were in the process of collecting it. Tobo was somewhere
else, hard at work. One of his spooky friends was masquerading as
Shikhandini.

All of which meant that Sleepy was better prepared to travel
than I had supposed. You miss so much when you are laid up. Things
continued to stir in the corners. Movements persisted at the edge
of my vision. Always there was nothing to be seen when I looked
directly. Nevertheless . . . 

Khang Phi had been conquered. That unvanquishable fortress of
enlightenment had been taken and its occupants did not yet know.
Most might never find out--assuming the real Shikhandini
successfully completed the real mission given to Tobo by Sleepy and
Sahra. Hard to imagine becoming badly winded by running downhill. I
managed. Those stairs went down forever, much farther than when I
had gone up at a more leisurely pace. I began to develop cramps.
Behind me Sahra and Sleepy kept right on barking and mocking and
pushing like they were not almost as old as me.

I spent a lot of time wondering what had compelled me to come
along. I was too old for this shit. The Annals did not need to
record every little detail. I could have done this One-Eye's
way. "They went to Khang Phi and got the knowledge we needed
to fix the shadowgates."

Some deep-voiced bell bonged far above. No one had enough breath
to explain but no explanation was needed. An alarm was being
sounded.

Our fault?

Who else? Though I could imagine scenarios where the File of
Nine might be guilty of trying to snuff the Company brain
trust.

It did not matter. I reminded myself that Khang Phi is bereft of
arms. That the monks abhor violence. That they always yield to
strength, then seduce it with reason and wisdom.

Yes, sometimes it does take a while.

I did not feel reassured. I spend too much time hanging around
with guys like me.

The air began to whisper and rustle, like a gentle breeze in a
time of falling leaves. The sound started in the dimness far below.
It rose toward us, met and passed us before I had any real chance
to become afraid. I had a brief impression of passing
two-dimensional, black, transparent forms accompanied by a touch of
cold and a whiff of old mold, then autumn was gone on to adventures
far above.

At times the stairway passed behind the outer face of Khang Phi.
Windows presented themselves then. Each was filled with an
exquisite view of grey mist. Shapes moved within the greyness,
never defined. They did not need definition for me to know that I
had no interest in making the acquaintance of anything that did not
mind having a thousand feet of wet air beneath its toes.

Several times I saw Shikhandini drift downward or rise through
the fog. Once she saw me watching, paused, smiled and showed three
slim fingers in a delicate wave.

The genuine Tobo was not shy any digits.

What I did not see during our entire descent was even one member
of the Khang Phi community. They all had business elsewhere when we
passed by.

"How much farther?" I panted, thinking it was a good
thing I had lost all that weight while I was recuperating.

I got no answer. No one wanted to waste the breath.

It proved to be much farther than I had hoped. It always is when
you are running away.

Ten Finger Shikhandini was waiting with the horses and the rest
of our gang when we stumbled out of the unguarded Lower Gate.
Animals and escort were ready to travel. All we had to do was mount
up and go.

Tobo would sustain the Shiki role till we were home again. The
Children of the Dead did not need to know that he was she.

Tobo told his mother, "Sri Santaraksita refused to
come."

"I didn't think he would. That's all right. He
did his part. He'll be happier here after we're
gone."

Sleepy agreed. "He's found his paradise."

"Excuse me," I gasped. It had taken me three tries
and a boost from a helpful escort to get myself into the saddle.
"What did we just do?"

"We committed robbery," Sleepy told me. "We
went in there pretending we were going to appeal to the File of
Nine yet one more time. We got them all twisted out of shape by
naming some of their names, so they had nothing else on their minds
while we stole the books containing the information we need to get
home safely."

"They still don't know," Tobo said.
"They're still looking the other way. But that
won't last. The doppelgangers I left behind will fall apart
before long. Those things can't keep their minds on
business."

"Quit jawing and ride, then," Sleepy grumbled. I
swear. The woman was Annalist for fifteen years. She ought to have
a better appreciation of the Annalist's needs.

The mist surrounded us and seemed to move with us, unnaturally
dense. Tobo's work, probably. Shapes moved out there but did
not come too close. Until I looked back.

Khang Phi had vanished already. It might be a thousand miles
away or might never have existed at all. Instead I saw things I
would rather not, including several of the Black Hounds, big as
ponies, with high, massive shoulders like those of hyenas. For an
instant, as they began to lose color and focus, an even larger
beast with a head like a leopard's, but green, loomed out of
the mist between them. Cat Sith. It, too, wobbled away from
reality, like an exaggerated case of heat shimmer fading. The gleam
of its exposed teeth was the last to go.

With Tobo's help we evaporated into the landscape
ourselves.


Chapter 16 

Wastelands: Night's Children

Narayan Singh
released his grip on his rumel, the consecrated killing scarf of a
Strangler. His hands had become two aching, arthritic claws. Tears
filled his eyes. He was glad the darkness hid them from the girl.
"I never took an animal before," he whispered, drawing
away from the cooling carcass of the dog.

The Daughter of Night did not respond. She had to concentrate
hard to use her crude talents to misdirect the bats and owls
searching for them. The hunt had been on for weeks. Scores of
converts had been taken. The rest had scattered in time-honored
fashion. They would come together again after the hunters lost
interest. And the hunters did lose interest in them before long.
But this time the Witch of Taglios seemed determined to collar the
Daughter of Night and the living saint of the Deceivers.

The girl relaxed, sighed. "I think they've moved off
to the south." Her whisper contained no note of triumph.

        This should be the last dog." Narayan felt no sense
of accomplishment, either. He reached out, touched the girl
lightly. She didn't shake him off. "They've never
used dogs before." He was tired. Tired of running, tired of
pain.

"What's happened, Narayan? What's changed? Why
won't my mother answer me? I did everything right. But I
still can't feel her out there."

Maybe she was not there anymore, the heretical side of Narayan
thought. "Maybe she can't. She has enemies among the
gods as well as among men. One of those may
be . . . "

The girl's hand covered his mouth. He held his breath.
Some owls had hearing acute enough to catch his wheezing--should
they catch the girl off guard.

The hand withdrew. "It's turned away. How do we
reach her, Narayan?"

"I wish I knew, child. I wish I knew. I'm worn out.
I need someone to tell me what to do. When you were little I
thought you'd be queen of the world by now. That we
would've passed through the Year of the Skulls and
Kina's triumph and I would be enjoying the rewards of my
persistent faith."

"Don't you start, too."

"Start?"

"Wavering. Doubting. I need you to be my rock, Narayan.
Always, when everything else turns to filth in my hands,
there's been the granite of Papa Narayan." For once she
seemed not to be manipulating him. They huddled, prisoners of
despair. The night, once Kina's own, now belonged to the
Protector and her minions. Yet they were compelled to travel under
cloak of darkness. By day they were too easily recognized, she with
her pale, pale skin and he with his physical impairments. The
reward for their capture was great and the country folk were always
poor.

Their flight had led them southward, toward the uninhabited
wastelands clinging to the northern foothills of the Dandha Presh.
Peopled lands were far too dangerous right now. Every hand was
against them there. Yet there was no promise the wastelands would
be any friendlier. Out there it might be easier for the hunters to
track them.

Narayan mused, "Perhaps we should go into exile until the
Protector forgets us." She would. Her passions were furiously
intense but never lasted.

The girl did not reply. She stared at the stars, possibly
looking for a sign. Narayan's proposition was impossible and
they both knew it. They had been touched by the Goddess. They must
do her work. They must fulfill their destinies, however unhappy the
road. They must bring on the Year of the Skulls, however much
suffering they must endure themselves. Paradise lay beyond the pale
of affliction.

"Narayan. Look. The sky in the south."

The old Deceiver raised his eyes. He saw what she meant
immediately. One small patch of sky, due south, very low, rippled
and shimmered. When that stopped for half a minute an alien
constellation shone through.

"The Noose," Singh whispered. "It isn't
possible."

"What?"

"The constellation is called the Noose. We shouldn't
be able to see it." Not from this world. Narayan knew of it
only because he had been a prisoner of the Black Company at a time
when the constellation had been the subject of intense discussion.
It had some connection with the glittering plain. Beneath which
Kina lay imprisoned. "Maybe that's our sign." He
was ready to grasp any straw. He dragged his weary frame upright,
tucked his crutch under his arm. "South it is, then. Where we
can travel by day because there'll be no one to spot
us."

The girl said, "I don't want to travel anymore,
Narayan." But she got up, too. Travel was what they did, day
after month after year, because only by remaining in motion could
they evade the evils that would prevent them from fulfilling their
holy destinies.

An owl called from somewhere far away. Narayan ignored it. He
was, for the thousandth time, reflecting on the change of fortune
that had befallen them so swiftly, after life had gone so well for
several years. His whole life had been that way, one wild swing
after another. If he could cling to the tatters of his faith, if he
could persevere, soon enough fortune would smile on him again. He
was the living saint. His tests and trials had to be measured
accordingly.

But he was so tired. And he hurt so much.

He tried not to wonder why there was no sense whatsoever of
Kina's presence in the world anymore. He tried to concentrate
his whole will upon covering the next painful hundred yards. With
that victory in hand he could concentrate on conquering the hundred
yards that followed.


Chapter 17 

The Land of Unknown Shadows: The Abode of
Ravens

It took Tobo ten
days to teach himself everything he needed to become a master
shadowgate tinkerer. Those ten days seemed much longer for some of
us because the File of Nine, defying the express wishes of the
Elders of Khang Phi and the lords of the Court of All Seasons,
issued a bull declaring the Black Company to be the enemy of the
Children of the Dead. It encouraged all warlords to gather their
forces and march against us.

That trouble was slow developing. The warlords who were our
neighbors knew too much about us to try anything. Those who were
farther away were willing to wait until someone else moved first.
Most never bothered to call in their troops. And, characteristic of
Hsien's politics, the stream of volunteers, of money and
materials helping us become an ever greater threat to the Children
of the Dead, never slackened.

Tobo finished work on the Hsien-end shadowgate fourteen days
after our return from Khang Phi. Despite the war clouds, Sleepy was
in no hurry. Sahra assured her that it would be months before
anyone got started our way--if they ever did at all. She claimed the
warlords could not possibly agree that quickly and move that fast.
No need to hurry. Haste causes mistakes. Mistakes come back to
haunt you every time.

"You do a good job, you're guaranteed gonna have to
pay for it," I told Suvrin. The young Shadowlander had just
been informed of his latest honor: He was going to cross the
glittering plain to scout and to repair our home shadowgate. Right
after Tobo trained him. Tobo would not go himself because he did
not want to be separated from his pets. Filled with low cunning, I
asked, "How are your writing skills?"

He stared at me for several seconds, eyes big and brown and
round in a big round, brown face. "No. I don't think
so. I like it in the Company. But I don't plan to spend my
life here. This is a learning experience. This is training. But I
won't become a lord of mercenaries."

He surprised me, in several ways. I never heard anyone describe
their Company time quite that way, though many do join up fully
intending to desert just as soon as they are safely away from the
trouble that had them on the run. Nor had I noticed, ever, anyone
grasp so quickly what it could mean, in the long run, to be
approached about becoming the apprentice Annalist.

A stint as Annalist could be a step toward becoming Captain
someday.

I was teasing, mostly, but Sleepy did think a lot of Suvrin. The
suggestion might not be a joke to her.

"Have fun on the other side. And be careful. You
can't be careful enough where Soulcatcher is involved."
I went on and on. His patient blank expression and glazed eyes told
me he had heard it all before. I stopped. "And you'll
hear it all a hundred times more before you go. The Old
Woman'll probably write it all down in a scroll you'll
have to take along and read before breakfast every
morning."

Suvrin put on a feeble, insincere smile. "The Old
Woman?"

"Thought I'd try it out. I have a feeling it
isn't going to work."

"I think you can count on that."

I didn't expect to cross paths with Suvrin again this side
of the plain. I was wrong. Only minutes after we parted it occurred
to me that it might be useful if I sat in on the shadowgate
training.

It occurred to me that I ought to ask the Captain's
permission. I was able to resist the temptation.

Lady decided it might be good if she extended her own education,
too.


Chapter 18 

The Land of Unknown Shadows: Due South

Campfires burned
on the far slopes, opposite Outpost. Those pesky rock apes had
emigrated. The flocks of crows were expanding. Choosers of the
slain, I heard them called somewhere. The File of Nine had pulled a
half-ass army together far faster than our bemused foreign minister
had believed possible.

"At last," I said to Murgen, as he and I shared a
newly discovered jar of skullbuster. "To One-Eye." The
stuff just kept turning up. We were doing our best to make sure it
did not fall into the hands of the soldiers. In their hands strong
drink was likely to cause indiscipline. "Your old lady talked
like it'd be next year before they tried anything. If they
ever got anything going at all."

The advent of unfriendly forces had been no surprise, of course.
Not with Tobo handling intelligence.

"To One-Eye. She has been known to err, Captain." He
was starting to slur already. The boy could not hold his liquor.
"Upon rare occasions."

"Rare occasions."

Murgen hoisted his cup in a salute. "To One-Eye."
Then he shook his head. "I do love that woman,
Captain."

"Uhm." Oh-oh. I hoped we did not get maudlin here.
But I understood his problem. She got old. We spent fifteen years
in stasis, not aging a minute. A little payoff from the gods for
doing us so dirty the rest of the time, maybe. But Sahra, who meant
more to Murgen than life itself, who was the mother of his son, had
not been one of the Captured.

Which had been lucky for us. Because she had dedicated herself
to freeing Murgen. And eventually she succeeded. And freed me and
my wife and most of the Captured as well. But Sahra had grown and
had changed and had aged more than those fifteen years. And their
son had grown up. And even now, four years after our resurrection,
Murgen still had not adjusted completely.

"You can get by," I told him. "Bless One-Eye.
Put it all out of your mind. Exist in the now. Don't worry
about the then. That's what I do." In terms of
experience my wife had been ancient centuries before I was born.
"You did get to be the ghost that rode around with her and

shared her life, even if you couldn't touch her." I
live with ten thousand ghosts from my wife's past, few of
whom ever got discussed. She just did not want to talk about her
olden days.

Murgen grunted, mumbled something about One-Eye. He was having
trouble understanding me even though I was articulating with
especial precision. He asked, "You never were much of a
drinker, were you, Captain?"

"No. But I've always been a good soldier. I've
always done what's got to be done."

"I gotcha."

We were outside, of course, watching shooting stars and the
constellations of fires that marked the enemy encampment. There
seemed to be an awful lot of those fires. More than the reported
numbers deserved. Some genius of a warlord was playing games.

"They're not going to come," Murgen said.
"They're just going to sit there. It's all for
the benefit of the Nine. It's showmanship."

I blessed One-Eye and took another drink, wondered if Murgen was
repeating his wife's assumption or his son's. I cocked
my head in favor of my left eye. My night vision is questionable
even when I am sober.

Murgen said, "I don't think you can imagine the
level of fear over there right now. The boy does something to
terrorize them every night. He hasn't hurt a louse on one of
their heads yet but they're not stupid. They get the
message."

You got the Black Hounds strolling through your camp, eating out
of your cookpots, or maybe pissing in them, and you have dozens of
lesser night things pulling up tent pegs and starting fires and
stealing your boots and treasures, you have troubles that will
effect morale for sure. The soldiers will not believe the stories
you tell to soothe them, however clever you think you are.

"The thing is, if the leadership decides there'll be
war, they'll come." I knew. I have been with the
Company forever. I have seen men fight under incredibly bad
conditions. And, admittedly, I have seen men lose heart when
conditions seemed ideal. "To One-Eye. He was a big part of
the glue that held us together."

"One-Eye. You know the Fourth Battalion's going up
tonight?"

"Up?"

'To the plain. They're probably moving out right
now."

"Suvrin can't possibly have the shadowgate ready to
go yet."

Murgen shrugged. "I'm just saying what I heard.
Sahra telling Tobo. She got it from Sleepy."

Once again the Annalist had not been included in the planning
and decision-making. The Annalist was irked. In a former life he
had gained a lot of experience planning campaigns and managing
large groups of fractious people. The Annalist can contribute
still.

In a moment of clarity I understood why I was being left out.
Because of the thing that killed One-Eye. Its punishment was
unimportant to Sleepy. She did not want to waste time and resources
on it. Particularly the time needed to argue with me and those who
felt the way I do.

I mused. "Maybe I shouldn't try to avenge
One-Eye."

Murgen didn't mind an unexplained shift in topic. He was
listening more closely to his own soul, anyway. He did say,
"What're you talking about? It's got to be
done."

So he agreed with me. It occurred to me that he had known
One-Eye longer than anyone else but me. I still thought of him as
the new kid sometimes because he was almost the last man to join us
while we were still in service to the Lady, in that other world so
far away and so long ago that there were moments when I almost
waxed nostalgic for those bad old days.

"Here's one more to One-Eye. And I want to know when
we're going to start racking up some good old
days."

"They're in there, Captain. Here and there. They
just don't stick out."

I remembered one or two. But that only got me started thinking
about what might have been. About Booboo. And when I mix strong
spirits with thoughts of my daughter the weather turns maudlin
every time. And we see more and more of that weather as I get
older.

"You got any idea what Sleepy's strategy is?"
I asked. She would have one. Scheming and planning is supposedly
her long suit. Long enough for her to have outwitted the Radisha
and my sister-in-law.

"Not a clue. I knew more about what was going on when I
was a ghost."

"You don't go out of body anymore?"

"I'm cured. At least in this world."

Not good, I feared. His loose attachment to his flesh had been
the Company's most potent weapon for years. What would we do
if we could no longer see what was happening in places we were not
at?

You do get spoiled fast.

Something chittered in the darkness. For a moment I thought it
was mocking me. But then a huge fireball rolled up into the night
across the valley. The unseen thing's amusement was at the
expense of the soldiers over there.

"This jar's gone empty," I grumbled, leaning
back and shaking a last drop into the back of my mouth.
"I'm going to go see if I can't make another one
turn up where we found this one."


Chapter 19 

Glittering Stone: Sneak Away

Doj nodded
slightly as Lady and I rode past his place. When I glanced back a
minute later he was in the street with several Nyueng Bao henchmen.
He was wearing his sword, Ash Wand. Up ahead, Thai Dei,
Murgen's brother-in-law and bodyguard, strolled along the
street. He was armed, too. If he was moving, Murgen would be,
too.

I kept a wary watch behind. This had to be done before Sleepy
caught on. Before she could issue orders forbidding it. I would not
defy direct orders.

She and Sahra were down in the valley. Tran Huu Nhang had come
out under a flag of truce. I had a feeling he would announce that
the File of Nine had decided to accept reality. They would never
admit it but their army had been defeated without stepping onto the
field of battle. It was evaporating. The private soldiers were
unwilling to endure the persistent attentions of the Unknown
Shadows.

It was all pretty amusing--unless you were one of the Nine
determined to make a reputation for the File, or you were a crow
with hopes of getting fat. Amusing but handy. I was tired of
waiting for a chance to slip away. My need to settle with the
Bowalk monster had grown pretty powerful, though I hid it well. I
have a number of obsessions that I do not let show.

Officially, the Eleventh Battalion was rotating up to guard the
shadowgate. In reality, the Eleventh would be started through to
the fortress at the heart of the plain, after nightfall. My gang
would be up there much earlier, swiftly moving beyond any hope of
Sleepy turning us around. Tobo would cover our backtrail.

I made a sign I hoped would be seen and passed along. We needed
to move faster. Sleepy is a resourceful little witch. If there was
any way to beat me out of this she might have it figured out
already.

It did seem like she was out there by herself on the Bowalk
question. One-Eye had a lot more friends dead than he had had while
he was alive.

Tobo was at the shadowgate. But he was supposed to be keeping an
eye on his mother and the Captain. Before I could say anything,
though, he told me, "They're safe. The meet is a
face-saving scheme by the Nine. They've realized what they
did was stupid. There'll be a lot of ceremony but no
admission of anything, like even that they've got an army
over there that wanted to do us evil, and before they're done
they'll give Mom a bull that grants the Company permission to
find and use the shadowgate secrets." He grinned, a kid
excited. "I don't think they've been getting
enough sleep."

"And why are you here?"

"I have family going through. Don't I?"

Of course he did. I was on edge. "Let's keep moving,
people." With Nyueng Bao, old Company hands, my wife and
whatnot, I would have just over forty people joining my hunt. For a
while. If it dragged on I might not be able to hold them
together.

Tobo told me, "Make camp at the first circle. Even if it
seems like you can cover a lot more ground before it gets
dark." He told Lady, "It's important. Keep him in
check. The first circle. So I can catch up when I get
away."

Willow Swan called, "Hey, Croaker. If you stand right here
and look just right out of the side of your eye, you can see the
Nef. In broad daylight."

Swan was on the other side of the Hsien shadowgate. His voice
had a dampened, distant quality.

I gave him my best scowl. "Don't forget plain
discipline." Shivetya might be our ally and the soul of the
plain but there were perils up there even he could not master. The
Unforgiven Dead were as hungry for life as ever. Only the roads
and circles were safe. Extreme care had to be taken to avoid
piercing the protective boundaries. Their master spells would
repair them if you did. But you would not be alive to enjoy the
result. All that would be left of you was a desiccated husk that
had taken a while dying, screaming all the way.

Lately there seemed to be less shadow activity than in the past.
Possibly Shivetya had found a way to control them. Maybe even to
destroy them. They were a later accretion. He had no use for them.
He would love to be rid of them.

Which would be as wonderful for those sad but deadly monsters as
it would be for us. They would achieve the release of death at
least. A release Shivetya understood. It was a release he yearned
for himself.

I started barking at people. "Let's get that
equipment out and moving! Where are those mules? I thought I sent
them up here last week." When a lot of people agree with you,
you can move a lot of material without drawing much attention. I
started work on this as soon as I was sure Sleepy did not intend to
pursue it herself.

"Calm down," Tobo told me. And I did. Stunned.
Because a kid was saying it to a veteran. And was right.
"Come here. Lady, you too." He stepped away from the
road, to a rudely made wooden box balanced precariously atop a
jagged boulder.

"This same rock is over on the home side," I said.
"Your father had a bunker right over there where that bush
is. What have you got?"

The box contained what looked like four black glass cylinders a
foot long, two inches in diameter, equipped with a metal handle on
one end.

"These are keys. Like the Lance of Passion was. The kind
you need to get on and off the plain. I made new ones. It's
not hard if you have the specifications. Blade has one key. Suvrin
has two. One is in place in this gate here. We'll take it
away when we leave. Two more are with a couple of the battalion
commanders who went up already. You're going to take two with
you. Just in case."

He handed me one cylinder and gave the other to Lady. Mine
seemed heavier than an object its size ought to be. The handle was
silver. I asked, "You just drop it into the hole in the
plain, right?"

"Exactly. Remember your repair lessons?" He faced
Lady when he asked that. I did sit in on the classes but my wife
had gotten a lot better understanding of the process. It would have
to be a major emergency before we counted on me doing anything even
vaguely related to sorcery.

A stream of mules and men passed through the shadowgate. Each
got checked by a sergeant who must have spent his formative years
at Sleepy's headquarters. He wanted to make note of every
man, every animal, every fireball thrower and other major item of
equipment or weaponry. The Nyueng Bao, not really belonging to the
Company, were rude to him. I went over and was rude myself.
"You're gumming up the works, Sergeant. Go away. Or
I'll ask Tobo to sic one of the Black Hounds on
you."

The pack was not far off. Nobody could see them, of course, but
they made plenty of racket when they quarreled among themselves.
And that never stopped.

My threat had the desired effect. The keeper of inventories
departed so fast there was almost a whoosh. He would file an
official complaint. But that would end up far down the list of my
delinquencies.

Tobo overtook me. Most of my gang were through now. The kid
bowed to his father, formally polite. He and Murgen had a mutual
problem. Neither knew quite how to bridge the gap left by Murgen
having been buried during most of the years Tobo was growing
up.

The boy told me, in a voice his father was intended to hear,
"You'd better push it now. Mom just got word of what
you're doing. She'll keep her mouth shut for
Gota's sake. For now. But when she hears that Dad is in on it
she's going to boil over and head straight for the
Captain."

I gave Murgen an ugly look. Didn't tell the old lady you
were going out with the guys, eh? How did Tobo know what his mother
had just found out? The kid snapped his fingers, made a series of
hand gestures, said something obscure, apparently to empty air.

A pair of shadows raced across the slope, slanting down from the
southwest. They headed straight toward us. I saw nothing to cast
them. Then, suddenly, I had a face full of flapping wings, weights
on my shoulders and what felt like dragon's talons trying to
rip the meat off my collarbones. Ravens.

"They only look like crows," Tobo said.
"Don't ever forget that they're not." I
shuddered. I have lived with this stuff all around me, decade after
decade, but being exposed to it has not made it any less
creepy.

Tobo told me. "At my request they've agreed to
assume this shape. They'll be your eyes and ears wherever you
have to operate without me. They won't have the strategic
range you were used to with Dad but they can cover a few hundred
miles, fast, and they'll give you a strong tactical
advantage. Besides scouting they can carry messages. Be sure to
frame those carefully, clearly, without ambiguity, and try to keep
them short. Give them an absolutely crystal clear address. Name
names and make sure they know who the names belong to."

I turned my head right and left, caught glimpses from the sides
of my eyes. It was disconcerting, having those cruel beaks so
close. The eyes are the first things the Choosers of the Slain go
for on the battlefield.

One bird was black, the other white. They were bigger than the
local breed of raven. And the white one had not gotten the shape
quite right. It looked like one of its parents had been a startled
pigeon instead of a crow.

"If it turns out that I can't catch up and you need
to get in touch, they can find me easily."

I am sure I looked grim.

Grinning, Tobo told me, "And I thought they'd go
great with your costume. Mom told me you always had ravens on your
shoulders when you did Widowmaker, years ago."

I sighed. "Those were real crows. And they belonged to
Soulcatcher. The two of us had a sort of understanding in those
days. Enemy of my enemy kind of thing."

"You did bring the Widowmaker armor with you, didn't
you? And One-Eye's spear? You know you won't be able to
come back for anything you leave behind."

"Yes, yes. I have it." This Widowmaker costume armor
was not the same outfit that I had worn decades ago. That had
gotten lost during Sleepy and Sahra's Kiaulune wars.
Soulcatcher probably had it in her trophy chamber. This armor,
though mainly for show, came from Hsien's finest armories and
had a distinct native flavor. Its black, chitinous lacquer surface
boasted inlays of gold and silver symbols that Hsien associated
with sorcery and evil and darkness. Some reproduced arcane
characters of power once associated with the Shadowmasters. Others
went back to an age when Hsien's now-extinct Kina cult was
sending out Deceiver companies on crusade. All those symbols were
scary, at least in the world where first they had been
imagined.

Lady's reconstituted Lifetaker armor was uglier than mine.
The stuff on its exterior was less clearly defined and much more
creepy because she had insisted on being involved in its design and
creation. The inside of her head is filled with spiders.

She did not get any pretend-to-be Choosers of the Slain. She got
several ornate little teak boxes and a thin stack of sheets of the
strange rice paper preferred by the monks of Khang Phi.

"You have to go. I'll see that they don't send
a messenger to order you back."

I grunted. Except for Uncle Doj, who paused to murmur with Tobo,
I was the last of my gang through the Hsien shadowgate. Lady
squeezed my hand when I joined her on the risky side. She said,
"We're off, darling. Again." She seemed
excited.

"Again." I could not recall ever being excited by
moving out.

Murgen asked, "You want to show the standard
now?"

"Not until we're on the plain itself. We're
renegades here. Let's don't make Sleepy look
small." I had an idea, then. If I could come up with some
material . . . we could run up the old Company
standard. From before we adopted Soulcatcher's firebreathing
skull.

"Good," Doj told me, stepping through the gate.
"A bit of wisdom. That's really good."

I began the climb to the plain somewhat numbed by the
realization that I was the only living member of the company who
recalled our original banner. It had been no more cheerful than
today's was but it had been a lot busier. A field of scarlet
with nine hanged men in black and six yellow daggers in the upper
left and lower right quadrants, respectively, while the upper right
quandrant featured a shattered skull and the lower left boasted a
bird astride a severed head. It might have been a raven. Or an
eagle.

There was nothing in the Annals to suggest when or why that
banner had been adopted.


Chapter 20 

Glittering Stone: Mystic Roads

Different stars
tonight," Willow Swan said, lying back, staring at the
sky.

"Different everything," Murgen replied. "Find
me Little Boy or the Dragon's Eye."

There was no moon. There is always a moon up in the Land of
Unknown Shadows.

The sky on the plain . . . is changeable. It
may not boast the same constellation two nights running.

The weather is usually benign. Cold, of course. But seldom
rainy, or worse. In my experience. But I was not concerned about
rain or snow. Shadow weather worried me.

The sixteen shadowgates are equally spaced around the perimeter
of the plain. From each a road of stone of a different color from
the plain runs inward to the nameless fortress like a spoke in a
wagon wheel. I had seen only two of the roads. One was darker than
the surrounding plain, the other slightly lighter. At six-mile
intervals along the spokes there were large circles of
appropriately shaded material. Those got used as campgrounds though
that might not have been their original function. The plain has
changed with the ages. Man cannot leave anything alone. The roads
were once just mystical routes between worlds. Now they are the
only safety out there when the sun sets. When darkness falls the
killer shadows leave their hiding places. As we gagged down our
rough supper the little light glowing from charcoal fires revealed
dozens of black stains oozing over the invisible dome protecting
the circle.

"The Slugs of Doom," Murgen said through a mouthful
of bread, waving at a nearby shadow. "Much better than the
Host of the Unforgiven Dead."

"The man's suddenly developing a sense of
humor," Cletus said. "This worries me."

His brother Loftus said, "Be afraid, people. Very afraid.
The End Days are upon us."

"You saying it's bad jokes going to bring on the
Year of the Skulls?"

I observed, "If that was the case we'd've been
dead twenty years ago and the only thing you'd see up there
is Kina's ugly face."

"Speaking of ugly." Lady pointed.

We had staked our few square feet of turf at the edge of the
circle, where the road to the heart of the plain departed it. I had
placed the key given to me by Tobo in the socket in the stone where
circle and road came together. Every circle had the sockets. The
key sealed the road off. It would keep shadows who got past the
protective barriers anywhere else from being able to get us.

"The Nef," Murgen said.

The three creatures at the barrier were plain for everyone to
see. They were bipedal but their heads were dissimilar masses of
ugliness other Annalists have said they hoped were masks. I could
see why--though, seeing them, I got a powerful sense of deja vu.
Maybe I ran into them in a dream. I must have had a few while I was
buried. I said, "You know these guys, Murgen. See if you can
talk to them."

"Yeah. And after I do that I'll fly off to the
sun." No one had yet managed to communicate with the Nef,
though it was obvious the creatures desperately wanted to talk. We
were so alien to each other that communication was impossible.

"We must be getting a better grasp. We're seeing
them when we're awake. We are awake, aren't we?"
Historically, the Nef appeared only in dreams. Only in the past
year did guards at the shadowgate report catching glimpses the way
troops elsewhere made sightings of Tobo's pets.

Murgen ambled over warily. I observed. But I also started
keeping an eye on my ravens. Until nightfall they had been almost
somnolent, entirely indifferent to the world. The appearance of
shadows on the barrier turned them restless, even bellicose. They
hissed and coughed and produced a whole range of uncorvine noises.
Some form of communication was going on because the shadows
responded--though, clearly, not the way the ravens wanted.

The Unknown Shadows of Hsien did share a common ancestry with
the Host of the Unforgiven Dead.

Murgen marveled, "I think I'm actually getting what
they're trying to tell me."

"What's that?" My wife, I noticed, was
watching the Nef intently. Could they be making sense to her, too?
But she had no previous experience with the dreamwalkers. Unless
while she was a sort of dreamwalker herself, while we were
buried.

No, it had to be those three. They had studied us long enough to
figure out how to get through. Maybe.

Murgen said, "They want us not to keep heading toward the
center of the plain. They're saying we should take the other
road."

"Based on what's in the Annals, I'd say
they've been trying to get us to do something besides what we
want from the first time anybody dreamed them. They're just
never able to make themselves clear."

"That would've been me," Murgen said.
"And you're right. What I've never figured out,
though, is whether they're trying to save us trouble or are
pushing their own agenda. It seems to work out both
ways."

The tiniest hiss escaped my black raven. A warning. I turned.
Uncle Doj had appeared behind Murgen, two steps back, fully armed,
staring at the Nef. After watching them for a minute he drifted
around the circle to the right, not quite a quarter of the way.
Then he shuffled back and forth, squatted, rose up on his toes.

Then Lady went over there. She checked the view from multiple
angles herself. "There is a ghost of a road, Croaker."
She came back, dug out the key Tobo had given her. I walked back
with her. A socket for the key had appeared in the stone surface
when no one was watching. It was not there earlier. I had done a
one-hundred percent walkaround of the perimeter before we settled
down.

Doj said, "The boy told me not to let you waste time
trying to make time. Perhaps this is why."

"Murgen. You know about shortcuts and side roads on the
plain?"

"They're supposed to exist. Sleepy saw
them."

Vaguely, now, I recalled something from my own first passage
across the plain.

Lady wanted to plug in her key. I held her back. I said,
"All right. If you feel comfortable. Doj? What do you think?
Is it safe?" He was as near a real wizard as we had here.

"It doesn't feel wrong."

Not exactly a ringing endorsement. But good enough.

Lady lowered the key into place. In moments the ghost road
became more substantial, began to give the impression of a golden
glow that was not quite there when you tried to see it. My shoulder
ornaments were not pleased. They hissed and spat and retreated to
the far side of the circle, where they got into a squabble with
something large and dark oozing across the surface of our
protection.

Murgen said, "I think they want to enter the circle,
Captain. I think they want to cut across."

"Yeah?" The auxiliary road was now more plainly seen
than the main way. I mused, "We could hike straight across to
the first circle right behind the Khatovar shadowgate." I
went and started getting my gear together.

Doj told me, "Not before morning. Tobo told you that we
have to stay here overnight."

I glanced around. Obviously, the only way I would get anybody
moving again tonight would be by making myself extremely
unpopular.

Khatovar had been there for ages. It would be there after the
sun came up. My interest in Lisa Daele Bowalk went back farther
than my interest in that place, to a city called Juniper, before
she made the acquaintance of a Taken known as Shapeshifter. Justice
delayed a few hours more would not set the universe wobbling.

I sighed, dropped my stuff. I shrugged. "After breakfast,
then."

"Let them go through," Lady said.

"The Nef? You kidding?"

"Doj and I can handle them."

Interesting, her confidence. But it was misplaced. She knew
nothing about the Nef. Unless she had met them in her dreams.

I moved people away from potential trouble, creating a clear
path. "Everyone ready? Pull the key, then, Murgen." It
would be intriguing to see if the plain would let him.

Doj swung Ash Wand around in front of him, exposed eight inches
of blade.

The key came out of its seat. Murgen jumped back. The Nef leapt
into the circle. And streaked straight across, to the side road.
They hit it and never looked back.

"That's definitely weird," Willow Swan said.
The dream-walkers were in a hurry but nobody dwindles that fast.
Nor, normally, do they grow transparent as they go. "Slid
right back into dreamland."

I wondered, "You suppose I would've slid into
dreamland if I'd tried that road?" The road itself
began to fade.

Nobody disagreed. Doj mused, "Tobo did say to
stay put."

Middle of the night. Something wakened me. Felt like a tiny
earthquake. The stars above were dancing. After another jiggle they
settled down. And were no longer the stars that had been up there
when I laid down. This was a different sky altogether.

"That way!" Doj insisted. It was morning, we were up
and Doj insisted on heading back the way we had come.

"The fortress is that way."

"We don't want to go to the fortress," Lady
reminded me. "We want to go to Khatovar."

"Which isn't back that
way . . . is it?" Tobo had not caught up.
I was not thrilled about that.

Willow Swan suggested, "You can go look, Croaker. It
wouldn't take that long."

I was tired of arguing, particularly in front of a crowd. I did
not want my right to lead to become more questionable than it was
already. We all possessed guilty hearts. Me more than any because I
bought the Company mystique more than any. "I'll take
Swan's advice." I pointed here, there, choosing
companions. "You guys get to go with me. Mount up.
Let's go."

So we were off to the mule races.

"I don't believe it." I did not. Could not. My
eyes had to be liars.

Lying at the rim of the glittering plain I stared down at
another landscape with topography resembling that at Kiaulune and
at the Abode of Ravens. But here there was no bustling, recovering
Kiaulune. There was no fallen castle Overlook, formerly equipped
with towers from which Longshadow could look down onto the
glittering plain and see what was coming to get him. Nor was there
a whitewashed army town with neat ranks of fields on the slopes
below it. This country was feral. This country was much more damp
than the other two. Wild brush and scraggly trees advanced to
within yards of the crippled shadowgate. The works around that were
the only recognizable human handiwork visible, and they were in
ruins.

"Stay low," Doj advised when I started to rise,
which would silhouette me above the skyline. I knew better than
that. People who do know better generally get skragged that one
time they forget or let something slide. Which is why we pound it
in and pound it in and pound it in. "That jungle
doesn't mean that there aren't eyes
watching."

"You're right. I almost did a stupid. Anybody want
to guess how old that scrub down there is? I'd say between
fifteen and twenty with a bet that it's a lot closer to
twenty."

Murgen wondered, "What difference does it make?"

"The forvalaka broke through this shadowgate about
nineteen years ago. She got away. Soulcatcher was too busy burying
our asses to chase her, shadows did get after
her . . . "

"Oh. Yeah. She didn't go out alone when she
went."

"That's my guess. Shadows got out behind her and
wiped out everything we can see from here."

Murgen grunted. Lady nodded, as did Doj. They saw it the
same.

Khatovar. My destination for an age. My obsession. Destroyed
because we had not had the good sense to cut a young woman's
throat in a place now long ago and far away.

The quality of mercy has left me a great, sour role in the
theater of my own despair.

Though it is true that it had not seemed important at the time,
and we were real busy trying to get out of there with our asses
still attached.


Chapter 21 

Taglios: The Great General

Mogaba leaned
back, smiling. "I can't help wishing Narayan Singh
continued luck." Relaxed, content, for the first time in
years, he found life good. The Protector was in the provinces
indulging her passion for religious persecution. Therefore, she was
not around the Palace making life miserable for those who actually
hauled on the reins, riding the tiger whilst trying to keep the
mundane work of government simmering.

His mention of the living saint made Aridatha Singh flinch. It
was subtle but the reaction was there. And it was unique. Other
Singhs did not react to the name, other than with an obligatory
curse, perhaps. This demanded further examination.

Mogaba asked, "Any trouble out there?"

Aridatha said, "It's quiet. You have the Protector
out of town, making no ridiculous demands, things settle down.
People get too busy making a living to act up."

Ghopal was less upbeat. The Greys were out in the streets and
alleys every day. "Graffiti keeps turning up more and more.
`Water Sleeps' most often."

"And?" Murgen asked. His voice was soft but intense,
his eyes narrow.

"The other traditional taunts are all there. `All
Their Days Are Numbered.' `Rajadharma.' "

"And?" Mogaba seemed to have shifted characters the
way Soulcatcher did. Perhaps he was aping her style.

"That one, too. `My Brother Unforgiven.' "

That harsh indictment again. That accusation which always
disturbed the incomplete slumber of the part of him guilty about
betraying the Black Company to advance his own ambitions. No good
had come of it. His life had become enslaved by it. His punishment
was to move from one villain to another, always serving wickedness,
like a loose woman passing from man to man down a long decline.

Aridatha Singh, eager to move away from talk about Narayan Singh
and the Deceivers, interjected, "One of my officers reported
a new one yesterday. `Thi Kim is coming.' "

"Thi Kim? What is that? Or who?"

Ghopal observed, "It sounds Nyueng Bao."

"We don't see much of those people these
days."

"Since somebody snatched the Radisha right out of the
Palace . . . " Ghopal stopped. Mogaba had
begun to darken again, though that failure belonged to the Greys,
not to the army. He had been in the territories at the time.

"So. All the old slogans. But the Company all fled through
the shadowgate. And perished on the other side because they never
came back."

Ghopal knew little about the world outside his own narrow,
filthy streets. "Maybe some of them did survive and we just
don't know about it."

"No. They didn't. We would've heard. The
Protector's had people down there harvesting shadows since
they left." People who had been lured into her service by
cruelly false promises to teach them her ways and make them
captains in her great, unrevealed enterprise.

None of those collaborators survived long. Shadows were clever
and persistent. Quite a few found ways to escape from novices long
enough to destroy their tormenters and be destroyed themselves.

Soulcatcher made sure conditions for disaster remained ripe.

Mogaba closed his eyes, leaned back again, steepled his dark
fingers. "I've enjoyed not having the Protector
around." Getting those words out casually was difficult. His
throat was tight. His chest felt like a huge weight was pressing in
on it. He was afraid. Soulcatcher terrified him. And for that he
hated her. And for that he loathed himself. He was Mogaba, the
Great General, the purest, smartest, strongest of the Nar warriors
produced by Gea-Xle. For him fear was supposed to be a tool by
which he managed the weak. He was not supposed to know it
personally.

Silently, within, Mogaba repeated his warrior's mantras,
knowing habits ingrained since birth would hold the fear at
bay.

Ghopal Singh was a functionary. Very good at managing the Greys
but not a natural conspirator. That was one attribute that had
recommended him to the Protector. He did not apprehend the message
lurking on the edges of the Great General's statement.
Aridatha Singh, in some ways, was as naive as he was handsome. But
he did understand that Mogaba was sneaking up on something that
could be a great watershed in all their lives.

Mogaba had championed Aridatha's elevation because of his
naivete concerning the complex motives of others and because of his
enthusiastic idealism. Rajadharma was a lever that Mogaba was sure
would move Aridatha Singh.

Aridatha peered around nervously. He had heard the old saying
that in the Palace the very walls have ears.

Mogaba leaned forward, lit a cheap tallow candle from a lamp and
took the fire to a stoneware bowl filled with a dark liquid. Ghopal
held his tongue even though the animal product offended him
religiously.

The bowl's contents proved to be flammable, though they
produced more unpleasant black smoke than they did flame or light.
The smoke spread out across the ceiling, then crept down the walls
and flowed out the doors. Its progress was marked by squeaks and
chitterings and an occasional complaint from an unseen crow.

Mogaba said, "We may have to get down on the floor for a
few minutes, till the smoke thins Out."

Aridatha whispered, "Are you really proposing what I think
you're proposing?"

Mogaba murmured, "You may not have the same reasons I do
but I think we'd all be better off if the Protector no longer
held her position. Particularly the Taglian people. What do you
think?"

Mogaba had expected Aridatha to agree easily. The soldier
believed in his obligation to the people he served. And he did
nod.

Ghopal Singh was his main worry. Ghopal had no obvious reason to
want change. The Greys were all members of the Shadar religion,
traditionally with little influence in government. Their alliance
with the Protector had given them power out of proportion to their
numbers. They would be reluctant to lose that power.

Ghopal glanced around nervously, completely failing to note
Mogaba's intense examination. He blurted, though in a
whisper, "She has to go. The Greys have believed that for a
long time. The Year of the Skulls couldn't be much more
terrible than what we've suffered from her. But we
don't know how to get rid of her. She's too powerful.
And too smart."

Mogaba relaxed. So the Greys were not enamored of their
benefactor. Interesting. Excellent.

"But we'll never get rid of her. She always knows
what everyone around her is thinking. And we'll never be able
not to think about it because we'll be so scared.
She'll sniff it out in about ten seconds. Really, we're
walking dead men now, just for having considered it."

"Then get your family out of town now," Mogaba told
him. It was Soulcatcher's habit to exterminate her enemies
root and branch. "I've been giving this a lot of
thought. I think that the only way it could be managed would be to
have everything in place and strike before she has a chance to look
around and pick up clues. We might engineer it so that she arrives
exhausted. That might give us the edge we need."

Aridatha mused, "Whatever it is, it will have to be sudden
and massive and a complete surprise."

"She'll begin to suspect," Ghopal said.
"There are too many people loyal to her, because without her
they'll be dead themselves. They'll warn
her."

"Not if we don't get carried away. If just us three
know what's happening. We're in charge. We can give any
orders we want. People won't question us. There's
trouble on the streets and it's getting worse. People will
expect us to do something about it. Plenty of others hate the
Protector. They'll feel free to act up while she's
away. That gives us an excuse to do almost anything we want. If we
mainly use people whose loyalty to the Protector is absolute,
letting them do most of the work and carry the messages,
there's no reason she should suspect anything until
it's too late."

Ghopal looked at him like he was whistling in the dark. Maybe he
was. Mogaba said, "I've opened my mouth here.
I've committed myself. And I have nowhere to run." They
were natives. They could vanish into the territories. There was
nowhere he could hide. And a return to Gea-Xle had been out of the
question for twenty-five years. The Nar back home knew all about
what he had done.

Aridatha mused, "Then every day in every way we should do
our jobs to the utmost on the Protector's behalf--until we
create a rattrap we can close like this." He clapped his
hands.

"We'll only get one chance," Mogaba said.
"Five seconds after we fail we'll all be praying for
death." He waited a moment during which he checked the smoke.
Its usefulness was almost exhausted. "Are you in?"

Both Singhs nodded but neither showed an unbound eagerness. The
truth was, it was a poor bet that any of them would survive this
adventure.

Mogaba sat in his quarters staring out at a full moon. He
wondered if it had been too easy. Were the Singhs genuinely
interested in ridding Taglios of the Protector? Or had they just
played along, sensing that he was the more deadly threat at the
moment?

If they were not committed he would learn the truth only when
Soulcatcher sank her teeth into his throat.

He was going to be an intimate acquaintance of fear for a long
time to come.


Chapter 22 

Khatovar: Invasion

Swan volunteered
to slither down to the shadowgate with me. I demurred. "I
think I'll take my sweetheart. We don't get many
chances to get away together." And she would have a steadier
hand than I would when it came to working on the shadowgate. Which,
even from the head of the slope, could be seen to need
restoration.

After examining the shadowgate from a closer vantage, I told my
beloved, "Bowalk really tore it up getting
through."

"She had shadows gnawing on her. According to what Sleepy
says Shivetya showed her. Tell me you'd be gentle and not
slam the door if you had those things after you."

"I don't even want to think about it. Are we safe?
Is anything out there watching?"

"I don't know."

"What?"

"I have a little power here on the plain. A dim
one-hundredth of what used to be. But outside the shadowgates I
might as well be deaf, dumb and blind. All I can do is
pretend."

"So Kina is alive, then?"

"Possibly. If I'm not just tapping Shivetya or some
residual, ambient power. The plain is a place of many strange
energies. They leak in from the different worlds."

"But you believe you're bleeding Kina again.
Don't you?"

"If I am, she's not just sleeping, she's in a
coma."

"There!"

"There what?"

"I thought I saw something move."

"That was just the breeze stirring the
branches."

"You think so? I'm not inclined to take
chances."

The sarky witch said, "You stand guard.
I'll work on the gate."

If she did I could not tell. She was less active than I would
have been.

We were through. Into Khatovar. I did not feel like I had found
my way into paradise. I did not feel like I had come home. I felt
the letdown I had expected almost from the moment I had become
aware that my lust to find Khatovar had been imposed upon me from
without. Khadi's Gate was a wasteland.

Clete and Loftus started laying out a camp close enough to the
gate that we could make a quick getaway if that became necessary. I
was still at the gate itself, surveying this world where the Black
Company had been born.

Definitely the disappointment I had anticipated. Maybe even
worse.

Something stirred the hair on the back of my neck. I turned. I
saw nothing but had a distinct feeling that something had just come
through the shadowgate.

I caught movement in the edge of my vision. Something dark. A
shape both large and ugly.

One of the Black Hounds.

The back of my neck went cool again. Then again.

Maybe Tobo was coming after all.

The darker of my two ravens settled onto a nearby boulder. After
a shower of hisses directed nowhere in particular, it cocked a big
yellow eye my way and said, "There are no occupied human
dwellings within fifty miles. The ruins of a city lie under the
trees below the rocky prominence to the northeast. There are signs
that humans visit it occasionally."

I gaped. That damned bird was better-spoken than most of my
companions. But before I could strike up a conversation, it took to
the air again.

So there were people in this world. But the closest were at
least three days away.

The promontory the bird mentioned was the place where the
fortress Overlook had stood in our own world. The ruins likely
occupied the same site as Kiaulune.

Another chill on the neck. The Unknown Shadows continued to come
through.

I went down to camp. The engineer brothers were old but
efficient. It was livable right now--as long as we got no rain.

The rain would be along before long. It was clear it rained
often here.

Fires were burning. Somebody had killed a wild pig. It smelled
heavenly, roasting. Shelters were going up. Sentries were out.
Uncle Doj had appointed himself sergeant of the guard and was
making a circuit of the four guardposts.

I waited till Murgen found something to occupy him, beckoned
Swan and Lady. "Let's think about what we do
now." I looked my wife in the eye. She understood what I
wanted to know. She shook her head.

There was no Khatovaran source of magical power she could
parasitize.

I grumped, "I didn't expect towers of pearl and ruby
beside streets of gold, but this is ridiculous." I checked
Doj and Murgen. They showed no interest in us yet.

"Sour grapes." Swan sneered, heading straight for
the critical point. "That's a whole world out there.
Damned near empty, it looks like. How do you expect to find one
insane killer monster?"

"I got to thinking about that while I was standing up
there looking at all this. Amongst other things. And I think
I've had an evil epiphany."

Lady contributed to the Annals and tried to keep up with her
successors. She shook her head, said, "There isn't much
in what she wrote."

Swan glanced around. Nobody was close. In a soft voice he said,
"She hasn't been writing the histories since you came
back, has she?"

I asked, "What's that mean?"

"Over the years Tobo and Suvrin and some of their cronies
have visited most of the shadowgates. They visited the Khatovar
gate several times."

"How do you know?"

"I sneak around. I listen when I'm not supposed to
hear. I know Suvrin and Tobo came out here while you were wounded.
Just the two of them. And later, while we were in Khang Phi, Suvrin
went out again. Alone."

"Then I'm right. We've been jobbed. How come
you didn't mention this before?"

"It had to do with Khatovar. I figured you were behind
whatever was going on."

Lady made a growling, chuckling sound that told me she had a
handle on the truth. "That devious little witch. You really
think so?"

Swan asked, "What am I missing?"

I told him, "I think we're out here raiding Khatovar
not because I'm so damned clever but because Sleepy wants us
old farts out from under foot when she breaks out into the
homeworld. I'll bet the whole damned force is moving right
now. And Sleepy won't have a single one of us asking
questions or giving advice or trying to do things our own
way."

Swan took a while to think about it. Then he took a while to
look around at the gang who had elected to defy the command
authority to pursue revenge on One-Eye's killer. He said,
"Either she is really an astute little bitch or we've
been around so many sneaky people so long that we see machinations
everywhere we look."

"Tobo knew," I said. Tobo had to be part of it. He
let his father and Uncle Doj come out
here . . . "You know, I'm so
paranoid I'm going to put a guard on the gate from the other
side. And I'll fill them up with lies about how a demon in
the guise of one of our people might try to sabotage the gate so we
can't get back out of Khatovar."

Neither Lady nor Swan argued. Swan did remark. "You are
paranoid. You think Sahra would let Sleepy get away with leaving
Thai Dei, Murgen and Doj trapped out here?"

"I think it's a mad universe. I think almost
anything somebody can imagine happening can happen. Even the
cruelest, blackest sin."

Lady asked, "And what do you intend to do about
it?"

"I'm going to kill the forvalaka."

Swan said, "Murgen's noticed that something's
going on. He's headed this way."

"I'm going to play the game. Tobo sent a bunch of
his pets through after us. Let's make sure they can't
get back out unless we let them go. We'll use them to find
Bowalk. Then we'll kill her."


Chapter 23 

Glittering Stone: Fortress with No Name

Sleepy reached the
fortress at the heart of the plain by the expedient of refusing to
be steered elsewhere. Shivetya's helpful shortcuts were not
going to divert her from examining the root of her scheme for
conquest.

There was one temporal power greater than the greatest sorcery.
Greed. And she owned the wellspring of a flood of what the greedy
held most dear: gold. Not to mention silver and gems and
pearls.

For thousands of years fugitives from many worlds had hidden
their treasures in the caverns beneath Shivetya's throne. Who
knew why? Possibly Shivetya. But Shivetya would not tell
tales--unless they advanced his cause. Shivetya had the mind and
soul of an immortal spider. Shivetya had no remorse, no compassion,
knew only his task and his will to end it. He was the
Company's ally but he was not the Company's friend. He
would destroy the Company instantly if that suited an altered
purpose and he was in a position to do so.

Sleepy meant to cover her back. She approached Baladitya.
"Where's Blade?" Baladitya had begun gushing
discoveries he had made since being handed his mission. Sleepy felt
a twinge of guilt. She remembered Baladitya's kind of
excitement, long ago and far away. But being responsible for
thousands of people, pursuing a timetable with very little slippage
built in, left no opportunity for simple pleasures. That made her
cranky and curt, sometimes.

"He's down below. He doesn't come up much
anymore." Irked, Sleepy looked around for someone young
enough to gallop a mile down into the earth. She spied Tobo and
Sahra arguing. Not exactly unusual. But not so frequently lately.
They had been butting heads since Tobo entered puberty.

One of Tobo's djinn could get down there faster than the
youngest pair of legs. "Tobo!" Sleepy beckoned.

Exasperation flashed across the boy's face. Everyone
wanted something from him.

He did respond. He showed no defiance. He never did. His calm
half-caste face settled into perfect nonexpression. Nor did his
stance in any way betray what he might be thinking. Sleepy seldom
saw anyone so inscrutable. And yet he was so young.

He just stood waiting for her to tell him what she wanted.
"Blade is down below somewhere. Send one of your messengers
to tell him I want him up here."

"Can't do it."

"Why not?"

"I don't have any here. I've explained before.
The Unknown Shadows hate the plain. It's very difficult to
get them to come up here. Most of those who do come refuse to have
anything to do with people. I don't want them to have
anything to do with people. It puts them in a bad temper every
time. You have a whole regiment cluttering up the place. There must
be a man somewhere who doesn't have something else to
do."

Sarcastic infidel. There were twelve hundred men cooling their
heels around the fortress, waiting to lead the treasure train,
doing nothing useful in the interim. "I was looking for
something a little faster." Once the Company was on the
barren plain, even with Shivetya working wonders, there was little
time to waste.

There had been no good news from Suvrin, either. Tobo should
have gone with him. Or Doj or Lady, at the very least. Someone
better equipped to deal with the Unknown Shadows. But at the very
least there should have been word that a bridgehead had been
established.

Baladitya said, "Then you'd better go down there
yourself. Because he isn't going to respond to any lesser
authority."

"What? Why?"

"Because he hears voices calling him. He's trying to
figure out what to answer them."

"Darn!" Sleepy broke out in what, for her, was a
blistering blue streak. "That wrangle-franging mudsucker!
I'm going to . . . "

Tobo and Baladitya grinned. Sleepy shut up. She remembered times
when her Company brothers would get her going to see just how
creative she would be in avoiding use of common profanity. She
muttered, "I should've written you people the way you
really are. Not you, Baladitya. You're actually a human
being." She glared at Tobo. "You I'm beginning to
wonder about."

"For a nonbeliever," Baladitya said, of himself.

"Yes. Well. There're more of you lost souls than
there are those of us who know the Truth. I must be God's
Beacon in the Land of Our Sorrows."

Baladitya frowned, then caught on. Sleepy was actually poking
fun at her religion's attitude toward those outside it, all
the unbelievers who made up the population of the Land of Our
Sorrows. Which, in an earlier age, when the Vehdna were more
numerous and more enthusiastic about rescuing the infidel from
damnation, had been called the Realm of War.

Only Believers lived inside the Realm of Peace.

Sleepy snapped, "Tobo, stop trying to sneak away.
You're going down there with me. Just in case he really is
hearing voices."

"That sounds to me like a real good reason for everybody
else to stay away."

"Tobo."

"Right behind you, Captain. Ain't nobody gonna sneak
up on your back."

Sleepy growled. She never got used to the informality and
irreverence, though it had been a firm fixture of Company culture
since long before her advent.

The soldiers mocked everything and bitched about the rest. Yet
the work got done.

Sleepy conscripted a half dozen more companions while hurrying
to the stairway down. All from Hsien. She marveled at the results
of her relentless training regimen. Many who had joined the Company
had been the dregs of the Land of Unknown Shadows, criminals and
fugitives, bandits and deserters from the forces of the warlords,
and fools who thought a turn with the Soldiers of Darkness would be
a great adventure. Sleek, strong and confident, they put on a show
now, after months of intense preparation. The clash of steel,
probably closer than they anticipated, would be their final
tempering.

Sleepy's descent led her past dozens of men still carrying
treasure toward the surface. From behind her Tobo asked, "You
sure you aren't overdoing the tomb robbing? We've
already got enough to make the whole mob rich." A fact not
lost on some recruits of less than unstained provenance. But
temptation was easy to resist when you knew only your Captain could
get you off the plain alive and that the Unknown Shadows would
hound you pitilessly if you tried anything after you were off.

"We can't beat the Protector with eight thousand
men, Tobo. We need secret weapons and force multipliers. Gold fills
both roles."

Sometimes Tobo was troubled by his Captain. At some point,
during her copious free time, she had gotten too close to a library
centered around military theory. At times she tended to regurgitate
notions like "strategic center of gravity" and
"force multipliers" just when that would leave her
listeners uncomfortable and concerned.

Tobo was also concerned because the old folks, the veterans,
Croaker and Lady and the others, approved. That meant that he was
not getting it.

"We'll take time out here," Sleepy said when
they reached the level of the ice caverns where the Captured had
been held. "You men," she said to those she had had
follow, "I want four of you to take a couple of sleepers up
top. Longshadow and the Howler. Howler is going to travel with us.
With Tobo. A work party will take Longshadow to Hsien for trial.
You two. Stay with us."

The ice caverns seemed timeless, changeless. Frost soon obscured
the smaller signs of any traffic. The dead could not be told from
the enchanted except on close examination by someone who was
knowledgeable.

Sleepy continued, "You men don't go in there until
we call you. You even breathe on those things sometimes, somebody
dies." Which, upon close examination, could be seen to have
happened before. The corpses included several of the
Captured as well as a handful of the mystery ancients whose
presence Shivetya had yet to explain.

There was a great deal the demon would not share.

Sleepy told Tobo, "We want these two to go upstairs
without them waking up."

"I have to break stasis. Otherwise they'll die as
soon as we touch them."

"I understand that. But I want them kept in a condition
where they can't cause trouble. There won't be anybody
there to control Longshadow if he wakes up all the way."

"Let me do my job."

Touchy. Sleepy posted herself between the boy wizard and the
cavern entrance in case curiosity overcame the good sense of the
soldiers. She marveled at how quickly the ice reasserted itself, at
how delicately cobweblike were some of the structures around the
sleeping old men. Beyond Howler, now, there was little evidence of
the trampling the place had taken when the Captured were released.
The cavern floor tilted upward back there, turned, and the cave
itself got tight enough to force an explorer to crawl. If you went
back far enough you reached a place where the most holy relics of
the Deceiver cult had been hidden during an ancient persecution.
The Company had destroyed them, giving particular attention to the
powerful Books of the Dead.

Sleepy was quiet for a long time after she sent the two sleeping
sorcerers to the surface. She and Tobo and two young Bone Warriors
resumed their descent into the earth. Sleepy had two things on her
mind: The first was the identity of the source of the pale blue
light leaking through the ice of the cavern of the old men, to
illuminate the human hoard, and second, "What is the center
of gravity of the Taglian empire?" She was more interested in
the latter. The former was just a curiosity. It did not matter.
Probably just the light of another world.

"Soulcatcher," Tobo replied. "You don't
have to think about that. If you kill the Protector you're
left facing a big snake with no head. The Radisha and the
Prahbrindrah Drah step up and announce themselves and the whole
thing is over with." He made it sound simple.

"Except for hunting down the Great General."

"And Narayan Singh. And the Daughter of Night. But the
Protector is the only part we can't manage using the Black
Hounds."

Sleepy did not miss the way his voice went hollow when he
mentioned the Daughter of Night. He had met the witch when she was
the Company's prisoner, before the flight to the Land of
Unknown Shadows. Sleepy had not failed to notice the impact the
girl had had then.

The Captain missed very little. And forgot nothing. And seldom
made an error.

But setting up the old folks to put themselves out of the way,
so they would not be peering over her shoulder, proved to be an
error of the first order.

The Captain found Blade standing in front of a wall of
blackness, rigid, a lantern dangling from his left hand. It was
obvious that he had spent a lot of time there. Empty fuel
containers littered the steps. The contents of those containers had
been meant for Baladitya and the rangers mining the treasure
hoards.

The Captain was irked. "Blade!
What? . . . "

Blade gestured for silence.
He whispered, "Listen."

"For what?"

"Just listen." And when Sleepy had just about
exhausted her store of patience, he added, "For
that."

She heard it plainly, though remote, weak, echoing. A cry of,
"Help."

Tobo heard it, too. He jumped.
"Captain . . . "

"Summon your Cat Sith. Or one of the Black
Hounds."

"I can't do that." He would not tell her that
he had exceeded his instructions by sending most of the Unknown
Shadows to help Croaker and Lady.

"Why not?"

"They'd refuse to come down here."

"Compel them."

"I can't. They're partners, not
slaves."

Sleepy grumbled to herself about damnation and consorting with
demons.

"You can't go any farther than this," Blade
said, answering a question that had not been asked.
"I've tried a thousand times. There isn't enough
willpower in the Company to move another step downward. I
can't even throw one of these oil jars."

Sleepy asked, "Are any of them full?"

"Over there."

Sleepy picked up three full pots. She dropped two at
Blade's feet, told him, "Step back." The oil from
the broken jars could not be intimidated by a supernatural
darkness. "Now light it."

"What?"

"Set it on fire."

With considerable reluctance Blade tilted his lantern and let a
few drops of burning oil spill.

The stairwell filled with flame.

"Damn!" Tobo squealed. "What did you do that
for?"

"Can you see now?" Sleepy had an arm up to shield
her face from the heat.

The blackness had not been able to overpower the flames.

Tobo told her, "Just two more steps down there's a
floor. With coins scattered around on it."

Sleepy lowered her arm. She stepped past Blade. Tobo followed.
Stunned, Blade again tried to push forward. He staggered. There was
none of the resistance he expected.

Why not, suddenly?

Blade was sure there would have been no change had he started a
fire himself. "Captain, I'd be very careful."

The
darkness had been waiting.

"Help!"

The voice was louder and more insistent. And clear enough to be
recognized.

Tobo echoed Blade. "Captain, be very careful indeed. This
isn't possible. The man has to be dead."

"Help!"

Goblin's plaints sounded increasingly urgent.


Chapter 24 

Khatovar: The Unholy Land

We had been in the
holy land of my imagination for four days. Nothing had been gained.
Something had been lost. An old Company hand named Spiff was dead.
Likewise, Cho Dai Cho, alias JoJo, the Nyueng Bao who had been
One-Eye's indifferent bodyguard for so long.

Shadows had gotten them the first night. Killer shadows that had
escaped the glittering plain after the forvalaka's breakout
had damaged the Khatovar shadowgate. Shadows that had depopulated
this part of Khatovar.

Once we knew they were there we had little trouble luring and
destroying them. We had had plenty of experience. But the alarm
method was awfully unpleasant.

It could have been worse. The fact of regional devastation had
inspired everyone to a higher state of readiness.

During subsequent nights we eliminated a total of nine shadows.
I hoped that augured well for the rest of this world. I hoped they
were now that uncommon.

The Black Hounds helped destroy the shadows. They hated their
undomesticated cousins from the plain. And feared them greatly.
Though these shadows seemed much less aggressive than those we had
encountered in the past.

They ranged afar, too, and found no living people south of
Khatovar's equivalent of the Dandha Presh. Of the
forvalaka they found little sign, either. Its trail, though, they
were able to uncover. Apparently it was so plain my ravens
suspected that it had been left that way on purpose.

"You really want to cross those mountains again?"
Swan asked.

Lady remarked, "He looks exhausted already, doesn't
he? And we haven't walked a foot."

I admitted, "This would be a great time to have one of
those flying carpets."

"There're a lot of things we could use. Several of
the black stallions from Charm would be handy. So would a hundred
more fireball throwers. You wouldn't steal Sleepy's
horse."

"Well, I couldn't, could I? It's the last one
left. She'd notice it was missing."

"But she isn't missing you and me and the rest of
these droppings beneath the roost of the rooks of dim
wittedness."

"That's a cute image," Swan said. "Here
come the lead birds of the flock." Murgen. Thai Dei and Uncle
Doj were approaching. Like the rest of the band they wanted to
know, "What now?" and I had promised to tell them this
afternoon.

Murgen asked, "So what're we going to do,
boss?"

"Go get it. We can't stay here. The shadows wiped
out almost all the game."

They just kill. They will kill bugs if the passion takes them.
Large animals they overlook only when they have the opportunity to
suck the life out of something human.

Murgen asked, "You think that's why she didn't
hang around here?"

Only part of it. "She does have to eat." A glance
around told me the fire in their bellies for revenge no longer
burned so hot.

Doj said, "But there is food here. And it's not that
hard to find. I've seen wild pigs and a species of miniature
deer that I didn't recognize. I've seen rabbits and
several kinds of smaller rodents. I'd say there was food
enough if she wanted it. I'd also say the shadows
haven't been active here for a long time. Otherwise I
wouldn't have seen the animals I have. The monster had to be
rejoining her allies. And the shadows had to be sent. To spy on
us."

I said, "Do go on."

"I've considered several alternate frames for the
evidence. Maybe it does add up to nothing more than the surface
picture. A raid by an insane monstrosity. But I think that is just
too simple. I feel there has to be more. Insanity and revenge as
motives don't seem adequate. But if she's working with
someone local . . . "

I had been supposing almost from the moment I broke out of my
coma. I did not have enough information to support my guesswork,
though.

I grunted.

"The monster had to know she would be pursued. The
Soldiers of Darkness have that reputation. And they've tried
to kill her before, with much weaker provocation."

"And Goblin also tried to help her, as I recall. Which she
repaid by turning on him before he could do her any
good."

Doj continued, "She had to get through two shadowgates to
reach Hsien. Which she knew, somehow, was where One-Eye could be
found. Both shadowgates, as far as she knew, were damaged. So even
if she was safe on the roads she could expect to be vulnerable at
the gates. But she didn't get hurt. And then the distance
between the gates would be a long one if she got no help from
Shivetya. We have no reason to believe he helped her. On its face
it looks like it would've been too long and too dangerous and
too hungry a journey if One-Eye's murder was all she hoped to
accomplish and could expect no help managing it."

I turned to Lady, then looked back to Doj. He was as smart as I
was. "I see. Of course she couldn't have managed
without help. With the shadows and, especially, with food. She had
no chance to feed while she was in Hsien. The Hounds were after her
all the time."

Lady chipped in, "Then she had help from helpers who
expected a sizable payback. What might that be?"

"How about the same thing we worked for four years to dig
out of the Land of Unknown Shadows?" Murgen said. "The
secrets of the shadowgates."

Heads nodded. I asked, "How would they know? And why would
they want it? To stop this gate from leaking? Didn't Shivetya
say they always repair themselves to that level? Tobo and Suvrin
never found any that were open, did they?" I assumed Doj
would be familiar with Tobo's adventures.

All eyes were on me. Murgen suggested, "This is Khatovar.
Source of the Free Companies."

"More than four hundred years ago. Closer to five, now.
They might not even remember."

"Probably not."

"And they must have some knowledge of shadowgates. They
got Bowalk through this one, in and out of Hsien, then back through
here again. Without destroying anything."

Lady said, "Another thing we can infer is that someone
here knows something about controlling shadows."

"We can?"

"Implicit in the fact that Bowalk made it to Hsien and
back again. As well as in the fact that we should've had more
shadows to deal with here if a horde did break out and devastate
the world when Bowalk came through the gate the first time.
There's game, Doj says. If those were feral shadows we
destroyed they would've killed all the game. Those things
were here to watch us."

I growled. "Damn! Murgen. All that time at Khang Phi. You
ever hear tell of any Shadowmasters that never were accounted for?
We're not going to have to butt heads with Longshadow's
long-lost mom, are we?"

"They're accounted for. Any that turn up here would
have to be home grown." Which was possible. Two of the three
we had destroyed in our world were exactly that. One had been one
of the Lady's henchwomen believed dead but gone fugitive
instead.

Continued talk led to the notion that we might have been lured
to Khatovar specifically so we could be stripped of whatever
knowledge we might possess.

Even now Lady remained a tremendous repository of arcane
information.

I went off alone with my raven companions. One I told to take
the Unknown Shadows out scouting, ranging as far as necessary to
find the nearest natives. The other I sent to find Tobo. It carried
a detailed and honest report, just as if Sleepy had sent us to
Khatovar and expected regular communiques.

I hoped Tobo might have some useful suggestions. I hoped he knew
more about Khatovar than he had pretended.

Neither Lady nor I could sleep. The white raven had not taken
long to find people. An army was headed our way, though it was
still on the far side of the mountains. The forvalaka was there,
accompanying a family of wizards who, according to reports from
Tobo, were the uncontested overlords of modern Khatovar.

Tobo's source was indirect. He had consulted the scholar
Baladitya, who took our questions to the demon Shivetya. Shivetya
then tacitly acknowledged his ability to monitor events in the
worlds connected to the glittering plain.

The rulers of Khatovar were a sprawling, brawling, turbulent
clan of wizards known as the Voroshk, which was simply their family
name. The founding father's talented blood had bred true. And
often. He had been a man of immense appetites. There were several
hundred Voroshk today. Their regime was cruel. Its sole purpose was
to further enrich and empower the Family. Following the disaster
caused by the forvalaka's breakthrough into Khatovar, the
Voroshk had learned to manage the shadows. It would be the Voroshk
who had sent the shadows we had destroyed.

Kina, or Khadi, was no longer worshipped in the world bearing
the name that meant Khadi's Gate. The Voroshk had
exterminated the Children of Kina.

Nevertheless, once each year, sometime during the time when the
Deceivers would have celebrated their Festival of Lights, somebody
managed to strangle a member of the Family and get away.

Chances were good that the Voroshk knew their history well
enough to recall that the Free Companies of Khatovar had gone out
as missionaries on behalf of the Mother of Night. They might well
dread the Queen of Darkness's return.

My own supernatural allies were under instruction to avoid
notice except in instances where Khatovar's shadows could be
picked off without risk of our secret strength being revealed.

Her face against my chest, Lady murmured, "These Voroshk
sound like bad people, hon. As bad as any you've run into
before."

"Including you?"

"Nobody's as bad as me. But you need to worry about
this. There's a whole family of them. And they don't
squabble amongst themselves. Much. Even when I had the Ten on their
shortest rein they were always trying to stab each other in the
back."

There was a message there, under her teasing. I held her and
told her, "I'll retreat to the plain rather than risk
the confrontation. We can always sneak back here some other
time." But I would not be happy if I had to let Bowalk get
away yet again.

I drifted off wondering about the minds of the Voroshk.
Wondering about this mysterious world that had sent our forbrethren
out so long ago, on a crusade that had gotten lost. Were the
Voroshk unwitting pawns of Kina? Could they be yet another device
by which the Dark Mother might try to bring on the Year of the
Skulls?

"No," Lady said when I suggested it aloud. "We
know whose role that is."

"Don't want to think about Booboo, hon. Just want to
go to sleep."


Chapter 25 

Glittering Stone: The Revenant

Goblin denied
nothing. "She kept me alive somehow. She intended to use me.
But she never did anything to me. I spent most of the time
sleeping. Dreaming ugly dreams. Probably her dreams."

The little wizard's voice was barely a whisper. It husked.
He seemed permanently on the verge of tears. The irrepressible
spirit that had made him the Goblin of old seemed to have fled.

His audience did nothing to make him welcome or feel wanted. He
was not welcome or wanted. He had spent four years sleeping with
the Queen of Night, the Mother of Deceivers.

"She lives in the bleakest place you can imagine.
It's all death and corruption."

"And madness," Sahra added without looking up from
the trousers she was mending.

Tobo asked, "Where's the Lance?" Goblin had
been asked before. The Lance of Passion was the soul of the
Company. As much as the Annals did, it tied past and present
together. It went all the way back to the Company's departure
from Khatovar. It had symbolic power and real power. It was a
shadowgate key. And it was capable of causing a Goddess terrible
pain.

Goblin sighed. "There's nothing but the head left.
Inside her, from when I stabbed her. She made it migrate through
her flesh. She's taken it into her womb."

The Captain, obviously uncomfortable with this heathen talk,
snapped, "Would any of you infidels care to explain that?
Tobo?"

"I don't know anything about religion, Captain. Not
the practical stuff, anyway."

"Anybody?"

None of the infidels had a thought.

Sleepy had a few. One was that Kina was not a real Goddess. Kina
was just an incredibly powerful monster. All the Gunni Gods and
Goddesses were nothing but powerful monsters. There was only one
God . . . She continued staring at Goblin,
wondering if he was worth believing, wondering if the best course
was just to kill him. The silence stretched. Goblin remained
immensely uncomfortable. As he should be, considering the
circumstances and his limited ability to explain what had happened
to him.

There was no way anyone would ever trust him.

The Captain said, "I have a thought, Tobo."

Silence stretched again as the boy waited on her and she waited
for him to ask what her thought was. Grown-up silliness.

Sahra said, "Why don't we have Goblin go help
Croaker with Khatovar? He'll be more comfortable with his old
friends, anyway."

Sleepy gave her a dirty look. Then Tobo did the same. Sahra
smiled, bit the thread she was using, put her needle away.
"That's done, then."

Goblin's froglike face had lost the little color that had
survived his time underground. It lost all expression. The man
within was trying hard to remain unreadable. In trying he gave away
the fact that he did not want to join the expedition to
Khatovar.

Maybe he just dreaded facing the forvalaka again.

"I think that's a wonderful idea," the Captain
said. Coldly. "Croaker sent a raven whining for help. He has all those
unpredictable soldiers and sorcerers headed his way. Goblin. You
can still cut it, can't you? Sorcery-wise? You haven't
lost the knack?"

The sad little wizard shook his head slowly. "I
don't know. I'd have to try. Not that I would be any
good against a real talent even on my best day. I never
was."

"It's decided. You'll take the Khatovar road.
Everyone else. We're done here. We're moving out. Tobo,
find the Chu Ming brothers. They're going to go with
Goblin."

The news that movement was imminent spread quickly. The
remaining troops were glad to hear it. They had stayed here in this
uncomfortable, frightening place far too long while the higher-ups
fussed about nothing. Rations were growing short, despite all the
years of preparation.


Chapter 26 

Khatovar: Hunkered Down

I returned from
consultations with the white raven. "They've reached
the downhill side of the pass."

Lady observed,
"They're moving fast, then."

"They've
begun to wonder if we suspect something. They've begun to
wonder why so few of their shadow scouts come back and why the few
that do never came close to us. So they left their infantry and
heavy cavalry and artillery behind in an effort to get here before
we can do a lot to get ready if we do expect trouble. The bird
tells me they're also preparing some sort of surprise but it
couldn't get close enough to find out what."

Swan grumbled, "I don't understand why they
weren't just sitting here waiting for us."

"Probably because there's not much here to eat,
it's a long way from where things are happening and they
couldn't know when we'd arrive. Or even if we would.
They have an empire up north to keep in line. And if they were
camped out here, chances are we'd just not bother to come off
the plain. Also, I would imagine that they really expected us to
follow the forvalaka once we understood what had happened here. So
they could trap us north of the Dandha Presh. In familiar
territory, closer to home. Which I would've run into if I
didn't have the Black Hounds and whatnot to go scouting.

"On top of the distance for them, there're a raft of
superstitions about this country. Plus there's just been a
change in the head of the Voroshk family. Somebody called the Old
One died unexpectedly about the time we climbed onto the plain. His
replacement seems to be more action-oriented."

"And you got all that by talking to crows?"

"They're smart birds, Swan. Smarter than a lot of
people. They make wonderful scouts."

Doj asked, "What is our strategy now?"

"We sit tight. We wait. We let the Black Hounds play. They
like to tease horses."

Everybody looked at me with that exasperated expression I
recalled from those days when I was the Captain and played my cards
close to my chest. I shuddered, forced myself to open up
further.

"They've separated a small light cavalry force in
order to make more speed. The Unknown Shadows will start tormenting
the horses after nightfall. Subtly, of course. We don't want
to lose them. The bigger ones are going to work on the forvalaka by
letting her see them as One-Eye's ghost. I'm hoping
she'll rush on down here ahead of her friends. So we can kill
her and get out before they get here." There. I had
shared.

I felt lousy. I felt like something was sure to go wrong now
that I had talked about it.

Silence. Which stretched. Until Murgen finally asked,
"Will it work?"

"How the fuck should I know? Ask me again this time
tomorrow."

Lady asked, "What're we going to do about
Goblin?"

"Keep an eye on him. Don't let him get near
One-Eye's spear." That all seemed self-evident to
me.

Silence stretched again. Then Swan said, "Here's a
thought. Why don't we leave Goblin here when we pull
out?"

I grumped, "I thought he was your friend."

"Goblin was. But we've already decided that this
can't be the Goblin we knew. Right?"

"But there's a chance the Goblin we knew might still
be inside him waiting to be let back out. Like the rest of us when
we were buried under the plain."

"And us guys who weren't aren't so sure about
you."

"Just say I've developed a soft streak. We'll
treat the guy like Goblin till he does something that makes us want
to hang him. Then we'll string him up." I had to
posture some. It was expected of me.

Murgen observed, "The Captain is still solving her
personnel problems by exiling the questionables to
Khatovar."

"And that's funny?" Because he was
smiling.

"Of course it is. In the sense that neither you nor I nor
Lady would've considered doing anything like that while we
were in charge."

"Everybody's a sarcastic social critic," I
told Lady. "Don't you let on that you can't kick
Goblin's ass all the way to Hsien when he gets here.
I'll try to keep him so busy he doesn't have time to
get into trouble. But it'll help if he believes he has to
walk a narrow line, too."

"He won't have to be convinced of that. He
isn't stupid."

"How much longer you going to need us?" Swan asked
He had begun shuffling a deck of cards. Murgen and Thai Dei seemed
eager to join him in a pastime that had made a comeback during our
sojourn in the Land of Unknown Shadows.

"Go ahead. There's not much to do now but wait. And
watch Uncle Doj sneak around with all those snail shells like he
can't even conceive of the idea that anybody would be alert
enough to notice." That was how the Unknown Shadows had
crossed the plain and gotten here. So who on my team was in cahoots
with Tobo and the Captain?

I could not wait forever, though. Nor did I have any intention
of facing any Voroshk soldiers. My only quarrel with the Voroshk
sprang from their presumption that the Company existed only as an
as yet untapped resource.

I deplore that attitude wherever I encounter it.

There was a full moon in Khatovar that night. I went strolling
in the moonlight. My ravens came and went. They traveled like
lightning as long as I did not try to watch them do it.

The Unknown Shadows are every bit as wicked and dangerous as
Hsien folklore indicates. It was almost too easy for them to taunt
and lure the forvalaka away from the umbrella of protection offered
by the Voroshk sorcerers.


Chapter 27 

Shadowlands: Breakout

The Captain
slithered up beside Suvrin, lifted her head just enough to be able
to see the shadowgate separating the plain from home.
"We're only thirty miles from where you were born,
Suvrin." She had tried for years now to think of a better
nickname than Suvrin, which meant Junior in Sangel, his native
tongue. She had not found anything more exotic that fit.

"Less. I wonder if anybody'll remember me."

Behind them thousands waited anxiously. Hungrily. Way too much
time had gotten wasted crossing the plain. Sleepy brushed aside a
twinge of guilt.

"How many of them are there?" she asked. A camp lay
just below the shadowgate. Built on the remains of old Company
camps, it looked to have been there a long time. Its shelters had a
makeshift but permanent appearance. They were part of a squalor
which characterized all things military under the Protector's
rule.

"There are fifty-six people. Including nine women and
twenty-four children."

"That isn't exactly enough to stop a breakout
attempt."

"We aren't why they're there. They're
armed but they aren't real soldiers. They don't pay any
attention to the road or the gate. During the day most of them just
work their fields." Several feeble examples of primitive
agriculture lay scattered along the banks of the creek at the
bottom of the hill. "I thought about jumping them but decided
I'd better wait till Tobo could look them over. I think
they're really here because of the shadows."

"We'll send commandos down after sunset. Roll them
up before they know what hit them." The Captain was not
pleased with her protege's indecision.

Suvrin said, "Better have Tobo check them out first.
Really. They're always more active after dark."

"Excuse me?"

"It's almost twilight now. Hang on. You'll see
what I mean."

"Don't make me wait all night, Suvrin." Sleepy
eased back. Once she could rise without being seen from below she
did so, strode to her waiting staff. "There's a
garrison in our way. Not a large one. Shouldn't be any
trouble because they don't appear to be expecting anything. I
want to make sure none of them get away once we move. Runmust.
Iqbal. Head back up the road. Have everybody fall out. Maintaining
plain discipline. Tell them to eat. To get their weapons ready. No
fires permitted, though. We don't want to show any smoke or
light. We might not go in till after midnight but I want everyone
ready to go when I say it's time to go."

Relays of
messengers carried word back along the column.

"There. Watch. That's what I mean," Suvrin
said, pointing. Tobo and the Captain lay to either side of him. The
garrison below had begun an exhaustive examination of the area
around the shadowgate, illuminating the area from several
directions using a variety of sources of light.
"They're obviously looking for leaks right now.
It'll get more interesting in a minute."

Soon afterward a three-man team brought up a thin-necked
earthenware jar of about a gallon's capacity mounted in a
wooden rack which they crowded right up against the sorcerous
boundary that prevented the shadows, the Unforgiven Dead, from
leaving the plain.

The lighting was bright but still not good enough for even
Tobo's sharp young eyes to discern clearly what was going on
but, whatever they were up to, those people were being extremely
cautious.

"I've got it!" Tobo said after watching
intently for about ten minutes. "They're trying to
catch shadows. They've got a tiny little hole bored through
the barrier there and they're hoping an overeager shadow will
pop through it into their jar."

"They work for Soulcatcher," Sleepy said, maybe just
to dampen the boy's enthusiasm. She now understood why Suvrin
had been so cautious.

"Of course they do. Who else? We need to think this over.
If she has a whole bunch of shadows under her
control . . . "

"It's too late to turn back." As though he had
suggested anything of the sort. Sleepy rolled onto her back, rubbed
her forehead with her left hand. The stars above were the stars of
her childhood. She had not seen them for far too long. "I
missed our stars."

Suvrin replied, "I did, too. I've spent a lot of
time here just enjoying them."

"You haven't sent even one scout through
yet?"

"I really haven't had the chance. I didn't
want to commit you to anything by taking everything into my own
hands. Anyway, I had to fix the gate before I could do anything
else and I've gotten maybe an hour a night when I could get
down there to work on that."

"It's ready, now, though. Isn't it? I've
got twelve thousand men up here. Don't tell me we have to
wait some more."

"You can go through any time."

Tobo grunted. "The Nef."

Sleepy rolled back onto her stomach. Sure enough, the
dreamwalkers had appeared down by the locals. They remained
transparent. They jumped and gestured. The workers beyond the
barrier ignored them.

"They can't see them," Tobo said.

The Nef abandoned their effort to communicate with the
shadowcatchers and swept upslope to harangue the watchers on the
lip of the plain.

"What're they trying to tell us?" Sleepy
asked.

Tobo replied, "I don't know. I can actually hear a
whisper sometimes but I still can't understand them. If Dad
was here . . . He was almost a dreamwalker. I
think he might understand them a little bit."

"It's probably safe to assume that there's
something they don't want us to do. That's what it
always has been once somebody does figure it out. But doing what we
want hasn't ever led to trouble for us. Has it?"

The wait stretched. Suvrin said, "It's always like
this." He rolled over. "Why don't we watch for
shooting stars?"

Tobo said, "I'm going down there. I want to hear
what they're saying."

"Ignoring the fact that they'll see you, when did
you learn to speak Sangel?" Sleepy asked.

"I've picked up a few words from Suvrin. We had to
do something during those tedious journeys to the shadowgates.
Although I don't think these guys will be speaking anything
but Taglian. They have to be people the Protector trusts. Meaning
people whose families are where she can eat them up if she's
disappointed with anybody's behavior. They aren't going
to see me."

Doj had taught him well. He was all but invisible descending
that slope, using no magic at all. The shadowcatchers noticed
nothing. But the dreamwalkers did. They became agitated. Then the
few shadows in the vicinity, not swarming beside the road with all
their kin, hoping some soldier would stupidly break the protective
barrier, also began to scoot from hiding place to hiding place
erratically. One darted up and through the pinhole into the
earthenware jar.

The shadowcatchers congratulated one another. In a moment they
had both jar and barrier sealed, the latter with an almost
invisible bit of bamboo. Tobo sensed powerful spells in its wood.
Soulcatcher did not want the more potent shadows pushing through
that valve.

The capture of a single shadow satisfied the shadowcatchers.
They packed up for the night.

"That's it?" Sleepy asked.

"That's the first time I've actually seen them
catch one," Suvrin replied. "I guess it doesn't
happen very often."

Moments after the shadowcatchers left, Tobo stepped through the
shadowgate into the world of his birth. Suvrin had made his repairs
correctly.

The boy took a deep breath. He listened to the soft noises made
by the commandos already coming down from the plain. There had been
no alarm as he had passed through the shadowgate and there was none
when the commandos began to ease through. Plainly, the Protector
did not fear the south. Though she had leapt up from the grave a
few times herself, she did not anticipate that kind of refractory
behavior on the part of her enemies.

"Water sleeps," Tobo told the night, and began to
cast a spell that would send the shadowcatcher crew into a deep
sleep. He had learned the spell from One-Eye, who had stolen it
from Goblin over a hundred years ago.

Always his thoughts found their way back to Goblin.

Kina was the Mother of Deceivers. Suppose she had done nothing
whatsoever to the little wizard? Nobody would believe that. And
nobody would ever trust him again. Tons of time and resources would
be wasted keeping an eye on him.

Was that it? Was Goblin just a diversion? Was there any way to
find out?

He was supposed to be on fire with the creative brilliance of
youth. He ought to be able to devise something workable.

The prisoners looked on in wide-eyed amazement as battalion
after battalion marched down off the plain. An army this size had
not been seen since the Kiaulune wars. Soulcatcher had won the
laurels in that round because the Company had been hopelessly
outclassed in matters of sorcery.

The Radisha Drah and the Prahbrindrah Drah had prominent places
in that parade. Clad in imperial finery, accompanied by dozens of
Taglian royal banners, their presence was a declaration Sleepy
wanted made early and often.

It was a declaration that was wasted here, of course, because
none of these witnesses would be allowed to carry the news out
ahead of the advance of the invasion force. But Sleepy thought it
would be a good idea for the Prince and Princess to begin
practicing to reassume their historic roles.

Suvrin was gone already. As were scores more pickets and scouts
and recon soldiers. The Soldiers of Darkness were loose. Poor
Suvrin was having to run ahead again, now tasked to close the
southern end of the pass through the Dandha Presh. A job for which
he needed no special training. It was the one he had held at the
time when Sleepy had taken him prisoner, while on her way to
release us poor old Captured from our durance beneath the
plain.

Once Suvrin was sure the pass could not be used by rumor-mongers
from the south side he was supposed to go on through and seize the
military works at Charandaprash. Which were likely to have no
garrison at all, considering Soulcatcher's attitude toward
her armed forces.

Suvrin would know that layout well before he got there. Tobo had
brought sack after sack of old snail shells off the plain once the
way was open. An unseen flood had begun to spread across the region
once known as the Shadowlands. Tobo would know everything his
creatures knew. Tobo would have those creatures carry the news to
anyone else who needed to know it.

Tension ran high and continued to rise. Those who knew
Soulcatcher knew she would hear of the invasion eventually. Her
response was sure to be violent and showy, swift and unpredictable
and nothing anyone wanted to endure.


Chapter 28 

The Taglian Territories: The Blind Measures of
Despair

Narayan groaned
when the girl wakened him. He regained control quickly, however.
The Protector was out there somewhere, never closer than she had
been these past two days. The Daughter of Night's valiant
efforts, using talents she did not understand, had been just enough
to prevent their capture. But it was a close thing every day. And
the game might not last much longer. He and the girl had nothing
left. If the Protector brought in some of the shadows she
controlled . . . 

"What is it?" he breathed. He fought the pain that
was with him always nowadays.

"Something's happened. Something big. I can feel it.
It's . . . I don't know. It's
like my mother woke up, took a look around, then went back to
sleep."

Narayan did not understand. He said so.

"It was her. I know. She touched me." From confusion
the girl moved swiftly toward assurance and confidence. "She
wanted me to know that she's still there. She wanted me to
hang on. She wanted me to know things will be getting better
soon."

Narayan, who had known the girl's birth mother well,
suspected the child took after her aunt, the Protector, far more.
The Protector was changeable. The Daughter of Night's moods
could shift with a change in the breeze. He wished she were more
stable, like her mother. Although Lady could become obsessively
focused. For example, she was determined to even scores with him
and the Deceiver cult. She had been Kina's tool but had no
love or respect whatsoever for the Goddess.

"Did you hear me, Narayan? She's there! She's
not going to lay low much longer."

"I heard. And I really am as excited as you are. But there
are wonders and wonders. We still have to get away from the
Protector." He indicated the sky to their west. Crows swarmed
not half a mile down the long, scrubby slope.

Soulcatcher had her obsessions, too. This chase had gone on
forever, successfully for neither party thereto. Did the Protector
have no other work to do? Who was managing Taglios and its
territories? Deviltry was sure to flourish in her absence.

From the beginning of the chase Narayan had been confident that
Soulcatcher would get bored and would turn to something else. She
always did.

But not this time. This time she was dogged.

Why?

No telling with the Protector. She might have had a vision of
the future. She might be unable to think of a more amusing hobby.
She was twisted inside. Her motives might not always make sense
even to her.

The crows began to fan out to the north of what must be
Soulcatcher's position. They seemed to be interested in a
slice of pie arc. They drifted on the breeze, not working hard,
slowly moving away. Narayan and the Daughter of Night watched
without moving. Crows were sharp of eye. If the two most holy
Deceivers could see them, the crows could see the Deceivers in
turn--if the girl's erratic talent failed for even a
moment.

A single bird glided to the southeast, rather drunkenly, Narayan
thought. Soon no black bird could be seen in any direction.

Narayan said, "Let's move on now. While we can. You
know, I think that haze down south might be the Dandha Presh.
We'll be in the mountains in another week. She won't
have a hope of catching us there."

He was whistling in the dark. And they both knew it.

The Daughter of Night led the way. She was far more mobile than
Narayan. Frequently she grew impatient with Narayan's
inability to keep up. Sometimes she cursed him and hit him. He
suspected that she would desert him if she had any other resource.
But her horizons never did extend far beyond the boundaries of
their cult and she understood that the living saint had far more
influence with the Deceivers than did any ill-schooled female
messiah whose status as such was accepted only because it bore the
living saint's chop of authenticity.

Narayan's lagging actually saved them. The girl was
squatting in brush, looking back with ill-concealed irritation.
"There's a clearing. It's big. Not much cover.
Shall we wait until dark? Or should we work our way around?"
It was much too difficult for her to keep them invisible when they
were in the open.

Narayan sometimes wondered what she might have become had she
grown up with her birth mother. Lady would have turned her into a
dark terror by now, he was certain. Not for the first or even the
hundredth time he wished Kina had allowed him to sacrifice Lady the
day he had claimed the newly born Daughter of Night. His life since
would have been much easier had the woman died then. "Let me
look."

Narayan crouched. Pain clawed his bad leg as though someone was
slashing him with a dull knife. He peered out at a stony waste
almost devoid of life--except for a stunted, twisted stump of a tree
smack in the middle. It stood just over five feet tall. There was a
familiar feeling to it. He had not seen it before but knew he
should recognize it. "Don't move," he told the
Daughter of Night. "Don't even breathe fast.
There's something not quite right out there."

He froze. The girl froze. She never questioned him in these
things. He was right every time.

It came to him eventually. He whispered. "That's the
Protector, that stump. Wrapped inside an illusion. She's used
the trick before. I heard about it when I was a prisoner of the
Black Company. It was one of the devices she used when she was
stalking them and they kept telling each other to look out for it.
Look carefully at the root of that branch that twists around twice
and ends in a cluster of little twigs. See the crow hiding
there?"

"Yes."

"Back away carefully. Slowly.
What? . . . Freeze!"

The girl froze. She remained unmoving for many minutes, until
Narayan began to relax. She murmured, "What was it?"
Neither the stump nor the crow had done anything alarming.

"There was something . . . " But
he was no longer sure. It had been there in the corner of his eye
for an instant but not there when he looked directly. "Over
by that big red boulder."

"Hush!" The girl stared in another direction.
"I think . . . There.
Something . . . I can't see anything but
I can feel it. I think it's watching the
tree . . . "

Grrr!

Both felt rather than heard the growl from behind them.

Such was their self-discipline, after years on the run, that
neither so much as flinched. Something large and dark and not quite
there trotted past. The living saint's mouth opened wide but
no scream came forth. The girl drifted closer to him without making
any sudden movement.

What seemed like a series of large black cutouts of an
unfamiliar animal flickered across the open ground. It looked
nothing like a dog. It had too many limbs. But in its brief moment
beside the stump it lifted a hind leg and loosed a river.

And then, of course, it was not there anymore. But Soulcatcher
was, in her own form. And she was in a towering rage.

"Something has changed," Narayan gasped through his
pain.

"Something more than Mother."

Something more than the Mother of Night.

Something that, from that moment onward, left them feeling as
though they were being watched every moment--even when they could
see nothing around them anywhere.


Chapter 29 

Khatovar: The Lords of the Upper Air

My ravens worked
hard. Within the same hour I learned that Sleepy had broken out
into our homeworld and that the forvalaka had left the Voroshk and
was rushing our way. I began issuing orders immediately. Bowalk
could not possibly arrive for hours but I wanted to make sure that
each of my companions was exactly positioned and that all of my
resources could be brought to bear almost instantly. Willow Swan
followed me around reminding me that most of the fussing I was
doing was exactly the sort of half-ass officiousness I resented
from Sleepy.

"You want to make your future home in Khatovar,
Swan?"

"Hey, don't kill the messenger."

I grunted unhappily, went and collected my sweetheart.
"It's time we got dressed up. Get ready for the
show."

"Ooh!" she said. "I've always had a
weakness for men in black with birds on their shoulders."

Our preparations were complete. Our dozen surviving fireball
projectors were positioned, I felt, to perfection to bring the
forvalaka under saturating fire as she attacked me. If that did not
destroy her itself it would drive her to me, directly onto
One-Eye's black spear. I looked forward to our confrontation.
That was unusual for me. I am not one of those men who enjoys the
killing side of this business.

The ravens had the monster just an hour away. People were having
a last meal so we could get the fires all put out before it
arrived. There was a pig that Doj had killed. It went fast. Not
many vegetarians in my crew.

Murgen joined Lady and me where we were playing paper, rock,
knife with Willow Swan. "Goblin's here. He just came
over the rim of the plain. There's two guys with him.
That's a good look for you." He had not yet seen the
new Widowmaker armor in action.

"Bless the Captain and her infinite wisdom," I
grumbled. "That was quick. Let's keep an eye on the
little shit." Like that needed repeating. I asked Lady,
"Should I put him to work?"

"Absolutely. Right out front. One-Eye was his best friend,
wasn't he?"

"Murgen, when he gets down here, after we talk to him, I
want him positioned down there where I put the pair of two-inchers.
We don't know if either of those has anything left in them.
Then have those guys fall back to cover the approach to the
shadowgate. You and Thai Dei stay with Goblin."

Murgen offered me a carefully blank look.

"If you have to, stick him. Or bop him over the head. If
he gives you a reason."

"Which might be?"

"I don't know. You're an intelligent adult.
Don't you think you can tell if he needs smacking
around?"

"Don't you think that that's what those guys
with him are there for?"

I had not thought of that. It did seem probable. "Are they
men we know well enough to trust completely?"

"I couldn't make out who they were yet when I came
over here."

"Then the instruction stands."

I studied Goblin intently. I had not seen him since before I had
gone underground. He had aged a lot. "Last I knew of you,
you'd deserted."

"I'm sure One-Eye explained all that." The
voice was the same but there was an indefinable difference in the
man that, probably, had more to do with time and the betrayals of
memory than it did with any evil new within him, but I have never
gone far wrong by being suspicious.

Goblin's stature approached the extreme low altitude end
of normal humanity. And he was wide, despite not having eaten well
in recent years. And he had almost no hair at all anymore. Nor did
he smile readily. He seemed infinitely tired, as though he labored
under a weight of weariness that stretched all the way back into
antiquity.

My long nap in the cave of the ancients had not been all that
restful, either.

"One-Eye was a notorious liar. The way I heard it--fifteen
years after the fact--was that it was all your idea and he just got
dragged along."

"The Captain was satisfied." He did not argue and he
did not make light. And that was the last clue I needed. There was
no humor left in this Goblin. That was the big change.

"Good for her. You've arrived just in time. The
forvalaka is only minutes away. We're going to kill it this
time. You didn't lose any of your skills while you were
trapped, did you?"

Something stirred in the deeps of his eyes. It seemed cold and
angry but might have been just his irritation because so many pairs
of eyes peered at him so intently, so suddenly.

"Captain?"

That had to be one of the real old hands. Everyone else was out
of the habit, though many still called Lady
"Lieutenant" because Sleepy never filled that position
officially. Sahra did much of the work despite her official status
as an outsider.

Why did we set such store by these tiny distinctions?

"What?"

"There's movement out there. Probably the Black
Hounds coursing the forvalaka. Which means the monster is getting
close."

"Full alert. Murgen, show Goblin his post." I
clattered and clanked. The armor was mainly costume but it was real
and it was heavy.

"Captain!" From farther away. "Down
there!" A man stood out of his concealment, pointing.

I gawked.

"Shit!" Lady exploded. "Why the hell
didn't your crows tell us about that?" She dove for
cover.

Three flying things were headed toward us from the west, in a V
formation. My man had spotted them so far away that, despite their
speed, we had time to observe their approach. Eagle-eye there was a
guy who deserved a bonus.

The flyers had made the mistake of approaching at an altitude
calculated to avoid the notice of the Unknown Shadows. That left
them completely vulnerable to detection by the naked eye because it
silhouetted them against the clear blue sky on the one day the
weather chose to be neither overcast nor rainy.

Lady snapped. "You concentrate on the shape changer,
darling. This is a diversion. I'll deal with it." She
shouted orders. I boomed a few of my own.

She was wrong, of course. The forvalaka was the diversion for
those flying Voroshk--though Bowalk would be convinced that the
reverse was true. Once they moved closer the airborne sorcerers
appeared to be rippling lumps clinging to long fenceposts. They
were wrapped in and trailed acres of something resembling black
silk cloth.

They must have had some reason to believe that we would not be
able to see them. They made no effort not to be noticed.

When they slowed their approach I suspected immediately they
wanted to coordinate timing with the forvalaka--and I was
right.

A burst of screams and dark fury erupted a scant hundred yards
from our most forward post. Unknown Shadows were all over the
forvalaka. Exactly as they were supposed to be, suddenly and
briefly, at that point.

The moment Bowalk stopped charging to rip at the spooks they
faded away.

For that moment she made a wonderful target.

The fireball projectors opened up.

Unfortunately, most that worked sped their blazing,
unpredictable missiles toward the Khatovaran sorcerers. Only two
light bamboo pieces remained trained on the monster. And one of
those gave up the ghost after projecting just one bilous green ball
that flew in erractic skips and jerks but did graze the beast along
the flank scars she had gained during our previous encounter. She
took a solid hit in the shoulder from the other projector.

She could scream.

I did not look away. Lady kept talking, keeping me informed. She
told me the flyers had been surprised completely. That made me
suspect that there had been little honesty between Lisa Daele
Bowalk and the Voroshk sorcerers.

They should have known. All of them.

The Voroshk were not entirely unprepared for trouble. They had
surrounded themselves with protective spells which did shunt the
lightest fireballs aside--usually from the path of the leader into
those of the trailing two. But those spells could not turn
everything and they weakened quickly.

I was bracing to receive the charge of the forvalaka when one of
the flyers streaked across in front of me, behind Bowalk, tumbling,
all that silk aflame. A scream ended abruptly as the sorcerer
impacted somewhere to my right.

My strategy was to channel the forvalaka toward me and
One-Eye's spear, hurting it as much as possible as it
approached. I had mounted the black spear in the end of a twelve
foot bamboo pole to give myself a little added reach. Once Bowalk
was pinned, the people with the fireballs could finish her off.
Assuming One-Eye's spear had not lost its potency with his
death.

And assuming the people with the fireballs were not busy with
the distraction overhead. I risked a glance. The lead flyer was
circling back. Whatever he had intended to do he had not, because
he had been forced to concentrate on his defenses instead. The
remaining Voroshk had come to a halt several hundred yards east of
us, smoldering, drifting on the breeze, evidently still alive but
just barely. Before I shifted my attention back to the forvalaka I
noted that that flyer was gaining altitude very slowly.

A swarm of javelins and arrows buzzed around the werepanther.
The darts were all poisoned. Just in case a few did penetrate her
skin.

Wonder of wonders! A lot of arrows were sticking. A sort of
black haze seemed to cover the monster, making the boundary between
her and the rest of the universe appear poorly defined.

Lady was yelling. A lot. Fire discipline was critical. We would
be able to create no new fireball-spitting bamboo poles until we
were safely back in our own world. Half of those we started this
fight with were out of action already. The guys had not been in a
real fight for years but they did remember what was what. The
fireballs stopped going up even before my wife started yelling
again. Several men did take the opportunity to put fireballs into
the forvalaka, though. Poor Lisa had no friends.

She was not as invulnerable as I had expected. She began to
stagger drunkenly well before I had hoped she would respond to the
poisons. The endurance and stamina of her kind were legendary and
in our experience were exceeded only by the ferocious vitality of
the sorcerers who had belonged to the circle that had been known as
the Ten Who Were Taken. Of whom Soulcatcher and the Howler were the
last. Of whom there would be no survivors much longer.

I was determined. I had a whole list of people who were going to
blaze the way to hell for me.

Now the monster was up again, evidently shaking off the effects
of missiles and fireballs and chemicals. She was gathering herself
for the charge that would get her in amongst us and render her safe
from our most dangerous weapons just when she could start using her
jaws and claws.

I do not know what the Voroshk tried to do. I know the fireballs
flew again, there was a shudder in the ground like somebody had hit
it a few yards away with a ten-thousand-pound hammer, then the
forvalaka launched herself my way in a sort of weak, half-hearted
leap, one hind paw dragging in the dust. Smoke came off her at a
dozen points. The stench of burnt flesh preceded her.

I glimpsed the last Voroshk streaking across the sky behind the
monster. He was tumbling.

Bowalk batted at my makeshift pike as she flew toward me. Her
effort was weak and slow. The head of One-Eye's spear entered
and passed through the flesh of her right shoulder, which had been
injured badly already. I felt it bounce off bone. She screamed. Her
weight ripped my weapon out of my hand even though I had the butt
of the bamboo pole set firmly against the ground.

Her momentum spun her around. She managed to slap me with a paw
and send me ass over appetite before she landed and became
preoccupied with the black spear. My armor withstood her claws. I
barely knew up from down for a moment but I did keep my head
attached to the end of my neck.

I regained possession of my bamboo pole but not of the spear.
The forvalaka was writhing around, screaming and snarling and
snapping at the spear while my comrades were careful to stay out of
her way. The occasional arrow or javelin continued to dart in, when
there was no risk of a miss.

The Voroshk remained out of the struggle. One burned on the
slope east of us. One rose higher and higher, now yielding
streamers of smoke. The last circled cautiously, either looking for
an opening or just observing. Each time he started to dart in, a
score of bamboo poles pointed his way, offering to welcome him. I
suspect most were dead. But he could find out the truth of that
only the hard way.

A huge black sword of a design similar to Doj's Ash Wand
came with the Widowmaker costume. I drew it as the forvalaka tried
to come at me. I felt almost foolish behind the excitement and
fear. It had been decades since I had used a sword anywhere but in
practice sessions with Doj. I did not know this one at all. It
might be little more than a showpiece. It might snap the first time
I struck a blow.

The shapeshifter staggered forward a few steps. Someone hit it a
glancing shot with a fireball. Javelins and arrows continued to
arrive. It snapped at the wound where One-Eye's spear stood
forth, again. The arrows and javelins all fell out eventually but
not that black spear. It was working its way slowly deeper.

I stepped in, struck. The tip of my blade bit several inches
into the big cat's left shoulder. She barely stumbled. The
wound bled for seconds only, then closed, healing before my
eyes.

I struck again, near the same site. Then again. Not despairing.
Her vitality was no surprise. But her wounds were not healing as
fast as once they had. And that spear was worming its way deeper.
And she seemed to be losing the will to fight.

Shouts!

The healthy Voroshk was boring in on me, coming fast, his
protection turning first the fireballs rising to meet him, then the
arrows and bolts. I pranced around and braced myself to flail away
when he got close enough. He raised one hand as if to throw
something. But before he could, my white crow appeared out of
nowhere and hit him from behind. In the head. His chin slammed
against his chest.

I doubt he suffered any damage but he did forget me for the
moment. He flailed at the raven. The ghost bird had secured a perch
on his shoulder and was trying to peck his eyes.

Even up close I could see no face. That was hidden by wraps of
the same cloth enshrouding everything else.

I swung away but misjudged the Voroshk's speed. My blade
chopped into the post he was riding a foot behind his butt and tore
itself from my hands. Then he hit ground. Then, howling, he bounced
into the air and streaked away in a lazy curve that tended
northward, all the while spinning round and round the axis of his
flying post. His robes or cape or whatever billowed all over the
sky. Tatters tore loose and fluttered down.

The forvalaka continued to weaken. Cautiously, some men left
cover and surrounded the beast. Lady and Doj joined me within
striking distance. Each carried one of the debilitating fetishes
Tobo had created using the tail and bits of skin Bowalk had left
behind when she killed One-Eye. Lady had shown him what to do. The
fetishes were particularly effective because Lady and Tobo had had
Lisa Daele Bowalk's true name to work with.

I said, "Swan, take a squad to check out the one
that's burning over there. Be careful. Murgen, keep an eye on
the other two." The Voroshk who had streaked off rolling was
under control again and headed our way at a crawl, gaining
altitude, moving toward the Voroshk who remained airborne and still
rising slowly. That one had begun drifting with the breeze and
showing some evidence of actual flames.

I asked my darling, "Darling, is there any chance
you're keeping an eye on Goblin?" Our mysteriously
resurrected brother had remained extremely quiet during the
exchange of greetings between the Voroshk family and the Black
Company. Unless I had missed something while I was preoccupied.

"There are two guaranteed-good bamboo poles aimed at him
right now."

"Excellent. You are going to be able to make more of those
things once we get back home, aren't you? They're the
best weapons we've ever had."

"I'll make some. If there's time. Once my
sister knows we're back we're going to get extremely
busy."

Egg-yolk light suddenly drenched the world. It faded before I
looked up and saw a thousand-armed starfish of a cloud blossoming
where the smoldering Voroshk sorcerer had been drifting.

The other Voroshk was headed north again, this time end over
end. And someone was falling directly toward us, vast expanses of
black cloth fluttering behind, smoke boiling off that. There was no
sign of the log the Voroshk had been riding. Its fall seemed
terribly slow.

Meantime, undistracted from his task, Willow Swan was bellowing
across the slope. He wanted a stretcher.

Lady observed, "That one is still alive."

"We have a hostage. Somebody poke that thing with a pike.
It's probably playing possum." The forvalaka had
stopped struggling. It lay on its back, tilted slightly to one
side, both hands grasping the shaft of One-Eye's spear.

"Hands," Murgen said as Thai Dei prodded the monster
with one of the longer fireball projectors.

"Hands," I said, too. The change was coming over
her. The change she had longed for ever since we had murdered her
lover-master Shapeshifter, way back during our first assault on
Dejagore.

Lady said, "She's dying." She sounded both
puzzled and a little disappointed.


Chapter 30 

Khatovar: Then Start the Fire

Arising shriek
rushed us from above. The falling, flailing Voroshk smashed through
the leaf roof of a shelter. The shrieking stopped. Bits of roof
flew upward. I said, "Murgen, go check that out."

When I looked back to the forvalaka, I discovered that Goblin
had joined us. He pushed through the crowd and stood over the
monster, staring down. She was about halfway changed, her arms and
legs having become a badly scarred, naked woman. She was aware
enough to recognize Goblin.

The frog-faced little man said, "We tried to help you and
you wouldn't let us. We could've saved you but you
turned on us. So now you pay. You mess with the Company, you
pay." He started to reach for One-Eye's spear.

Men jumped every which way. Half a dozen bamboo poles swung
toward Goblin. Crossbows came off shoulders.

The little wizard's mouth opened and closed several times.
Then his hand slowly withdrew.

I guess news of One-Eye's dying words had gotten
around.

Goblin squeaked, "Maybe you shouldn't have rescued
me."

Lady told him, "We didn't," but did not expand
upon her remark. She drew me away. "He has something to do
with Bowalk dying so easily."

I glanced over there. "She isn't dead
yet."

"She should have been much tougher."

"Even considering the fetishes and One-Eye's
spear?"

She thought about that. "Maybe. When she's done
dying you'd better make sure that thing is hard to reach. I
don't like the look in Goblin's eye when he stares at
it."

That look was there now, though the little wizard showed no
inclination to do anything certain to inspire a swift and violent
response.

Swan and his gang were approaching, four of the men at the
corners of a makeshift litter. Trotting ahead, Swan puffed,
"Wait'll you get a look at this, Croaker. You
ain't going to believe it."

At the same moment Murgen called for another stretcher. So the
other Voroshk had survived, too.

Swan was on the mark. The girl on the stretcher was impossible
to believe. Maybe sixteen, blonde, as gorgeous as every boy's
fantasy. I asked my wife, "Darling, is this for real?"
And to Swan, "Good job, Willow." He had bound and
gagged the girl so as to disarm most of a sorcerer's simpler
tricks.

Lady said, "You men get back." There was not much
left of what the girl had been wearing. And more than a few of the
guys were the sort who would count her fair game for having tried
to attack us. Some were the sort who would dish out the same
treatment to a male captive. They might be my brethren but that did
not make them less cruel men.

Lady told Swan, "Take Doj back over there and collect
anything you can find that belonged to her. Her clothing and that
thing she was riding in particular." And to me she said,
"Yes, dear, she's the real thing. Except for just a
touch of makeup. I hate her already. Goblin! You come over here and
stand where I can see you."

I stared down at the Voroshk girl, not focusing on the lushness
and freshness of her but on the blondness and whiteness. I have
read all the Annals, all the way back to the first volume--albeit,
admittedly, a several-generations-removed-from-original copy--that
had been begun before our forebrethren ever left Khatovar. Those
men had not been tall and white and blond. Could the Voroshk be
another out-world scourge like the Shadowmasters of my own world
and Hsien?

At that moment Lady removed her helmet, the better to menace me
for staring. And I realized she was quite white herself, even if
not blonde.

Why expect the peoples of Khatovar to be any more homogeneous
than the peoples of my own world?

Murgen and his crew came jogging up, carrying another body on
another crude litter. The first had escaped most of the effects of
impact and fire. This one had been less fortunate.

"Another girl," I observed. That fact was hard to
ignore. She was more obvious than the first.

"Younger than the other one."

"But just as well put together."

"Better, from where I'm standing."

"They're sisters," Lady growled. "You
have an idea what this means?"

"Probably that the Voroshk had so little respect for us
that they sent out some kids so they could get in some practice.
But after what's happened, Daddy and Grandpa will take a
closer interest." I beckoned. "Gather round,
gentlemen." Once everyone not doing something closed in, I
said, "In a short time we're probably going to have a
sky full of unfriendly company. I want you to start pulling up
stakes and getting the animals and equipment back through the gate.
Right now."

Lady asked, "You think that third one will make it back to
the Voroshk army?"

"No way will I bet against it. My mother's
optimistic children have all been dead for fifty years." I
glanced at the forvalaka. It was almost entirely Lisa Bowalk now.
Except for the head. "Looks like some mythological beast,
don't she?"

She was not dead yet. Her eyes were open. They were no longer
cat's eyes. They begged. She did not want to die.

I told Lady, "She doesn't look any older than the
last time I saw her." She was still a young and attractive
woman--for one whose formative years had been spent surviving the
worst slum of a truly ugly city. "Hey, Cratch. Grab Slobo. I
want you guys to bring all the firewood over here and pile it on
this thing."

Goblin said, "I'll help."

"I'll tell you what, runt. You want a job, you can
build me a couple of good litters so we can take our new
girlfriends with us."

Lady asked, "Are they fit to travel?"

"The older one could probably get up and limp along on her
own if she was conscious. I'll need a closer look here before
I can tell how bad this one's hurt, though."

"You watch what you're poking and squeezing, old
man."

"You'd think that, at your age, you'd have
developed a little better sense of humor, old woman. Don't
you understand that every profession has its perks? A surgeon gets
to poke and squeeze."

"So does a wife."

"I knew I forgot something when we did that ceremony
thing. Shoulda brung a lawyer. Cratch! Nobody touches that spear
till we start the fire. And I'll do any touching that gets
done. Where are my birds? I've got to get the Black Hounds
called in." We could not leave them here. They were going to
be critical weapons in the war with Soulcatcher. Sleepy was,
probably, missing them desperately already.

Swan and three others approached, straining to carry the post
the older girl had ridden. Swan puffed. "This goddamned thing
weighs a ton!" The four of them started to drop it.

"No!" Lady barked. "Gently! You recall what
happened to the other one? Up there?" She pointed. Smoke or
dust or whatever still smeared the sky. There was still an
occasional crackle of toy lightning inside the cloud, too.
"That's better. Goblin! Doj! Come and take a look at
this thing."

"Check this cloth," Swan said, offering me a bit of
black rag.

It felt like silk and seemed almost weightless. It stretched
when I pulled it without tearing or getting any thinner. Or so it
seemed.

"Now watch this." Swan stabbed the cloth with his
knife. The knife did not penetrate. It did not cut when he slashed,
either.

I said, "Now isn't that a handy little trick?
We're lucky we had the bamboo. Honey, check this out. Show
her, Swan. You, men. Get the post thing on the other side of the
gate. Let's get moving, people! These folks can fly. And the
next bunch that shows up aren't likely to be as
friendly." No one really needed my encouragement, though. A
solid line of men, animals and equipment was moving upslope
already. The older Voroshk girl was headed uphill already, too,
bound to Goblin's first litter.

When Swan finished showing that cloth to Lady, I told him,
"See if you can't find a log or post in one of the huts
that might look like that flying thing from a distance."

Lady, Goblin and Swan all stared at me. This time I stood on my
command right and did not explain. I had a hunch the Voroshk would
not want to lose the post. Which my comrades might understand but
if I said so they would just ask for further explanations.

I said, "This one has broken bones, bad burns, punctures,
cuts and abrasions and probably internal injuries."

"And?" Lady asked.

"And so I think she won't be much use to us.
Probably die on us. So I'm going to do the best I can for
her, then leave her for her own people."

"Going soft in your old age?"

"Like I said, she'd be more trouble than she's
worth. Plus, the sister ought to be up and around in no time. So if
I do right by the one I leave here, the Voroshk might be less
inclined to run around behind us trying to get vicious."

"What're they going to do?"

"I don't know. I don't want to find out. I
just take into account the fact that they were able to get Bowalk
onto the plain and off again, once each way, without wrecking any
shadowgates. I'm hoping they don't have what it takes
to move an army the same way."

"They wouldn't need to grab us if they did. Odds
are, Bowalk's trip was possible because of what she was and
the fact that she'd bulled through it all once
before."

I looked at the forvalaka. Even its head was Lisa Daele Bowalk
now. The same Lisa Bowalk who ruined Marron Shed a thousand
subjective years ago. Her eyes were shut but she was still
breathing.

We would have to fix that.

Lady told me, "Cut off her head first. Then start the
fire."


Chapter 31 

Khatovar: The Opened Gate

The Voroshk were
not sneaks. They came out of the northwest in an angry swarm, eager
to get at us. There were at least twenty-five in the first
wave.

My people were all on the uphill side of the shadowgate but many
of the Unknown Shadows had not made it back. I had left snail
shells scattered around the woods so they would have somewhere to
hide. I would get them out later, once the excitement was over.

The swarm streaked in, vast flutters of black cloth billowing.
Even though they could see that we were beyond the shadowgate and
our main body was already on the plain they dropped down and
streaked over our empty camp, shedding a rain of small objects
which turned little patches of ground into puddles of lava and
caused vegetation to combust almost explosively. None of our
shelters or corrals survived. But nothing touched the injured girl
or the forvalaka's funeral pyre.

"Glad I don't have to run between those
raindrops," I said. A couple of the Voroshk had tried to
award me that experience but the barrier between Khatovar and the
plain repelled their missiles easily. And ate their magic right up.
They did not activate, even when they dribbled to the ground.

Lady said, "They're all kids, too."

The members of the swarm all seemed to do whatever they wanted,
going their own ways, yet none of them collided. Once their assault
failed to produce results most of them settled to earth around the
injured girl.

On my side of the shadowgate we leaned on bamboo poles and
watched.

A trio of latecomers formed the second wave. They appeared
several minutes after the first flood. "These will be the
leaders," Lady said. "Being a little more cautious than
the youngsters." Even more black fabric billowed around these
three.

"The highest ranking members of the Family making the
journey," I conceded. "There sure are a lot of these
people. Considering the size of the army they brought." Not
counting the Voroshk themselves, my spies numbered the approaching
force at about eight hundred. The light cavalry hurrying ahead
numbered fewer than fifty men. There was a good chance we could
have beat them up if they had not had all those post riders in the
sky looking out for them.

When they grounded, the Voroshk flyers did stand their
conveyances on end, like fenceposts that would not tip over without
a push from a human hand.

The elders circled a few times before they set down. Then they
took time to examine the unconscious child before paying any more
attention to us.

I gave a small hand signal as soon as we were on. Men on the
slope who had been hanging around gawking resumed moving. The
Voroshk chieftains were allowed to see the other girl being led
away and what looked like four men lugging a captured flying
fencepost. While the heart of my heart and I posed just behind the
gate in our best killer costumes. I know there was a huge smirk
hanging around inside my helmet.

Out there among the Voroshk, so far ignored but not unnoticed,
the headless corpse of our ancient enemy crackled and popped inside
a roaring fire. I wished we still had the Lance of Passion to show
those guys, too. My ravens had not been able to tell if the Voroshk
were aware of who we really were.

I said, "The past always comes back." I waved. Then
I told Lady, "I think it might be a real good idea if we got
going now. Their good feelings about us having taken care of that
kid just aren't going to last."

"You've probably stretched it too long already,
showing off." She started up the slope. She did not look at
all bad in that armor. She set a brisk pace for such an old gal,
too.

Soon all the flying sorcerers were staring uphill, pointing and
jabbering at one another. They seemed to be much more excited about
us carrying off their flying log than they were about us taking the
girl. Maybe she was not anyone important. Or maybe they figured she
was old enough to look out for herself.

One of the elders stepped away from that fluttering black crowd.
He had a small book in his hand. He turned a couple of pages, found
the one he wanted, ran a finger along a few lines as he read. A
second elder nodded and apparently repeated what he had to say,
with gestured accompaniment. After a moment the third elder took it
up, his gestures similar but not in step with those of the other
two.

"It's a round," I told Lady. We had overtaken
the slowest of our people. "Row row row." I made some
gestures myself. "You do anything you're going to be
sorry."

The Voroshk all spun, presenting their backs to us.

The flash was so bright it blinded me for a moment. When my
sight returned another of those hundred-legged starfish of
brownish-grey smoke had materialized. This one was not upstairs.
This one was right where the shadowgate had been. Centered right
where I had hidden the captured flying post under some
"abandoned" tenting.

"Warned you," I murmured.

"How did you know?" Lady asked.

"I'm not sure. A hunch, I guess. Uninhibited
intuition."

"They've just killed themselves." There was
almost a hint of compassion in her voice. "They'll
never stop the shadows from flooding through that."

Some of the Voroshk already recognized the magnitude of the
disaster still unfolding. Black fluttering shapes scattered like
roaches suddenly exposed to the light. Flying posts took to the
air, streaked northward so violently that bits of black cloth
ripped off and fluttered down like dark autumn leaves.

The three elders held their positions. They stared our way. I
wondered what was happening inside their heads. Almost certainly
not any recognition of the fact that the disaster was a direct
result of the magnitude of Voroshk arrogance. I have never met one
of their kind who would admit any fallibility whatsoever.

I was sure there would be some grand squabbles over where to fix
the blame during the time they had left. Human nature at work.

"What are you thinking?" Lady asked.

I realized that I was no longer moving, that I was just watching
the Voroshk watch me. "Just looking around inside me, trying
to figure out why this doesn't bother me the way it would
have years ago. Why I recognize the pain more easily now but am not
touched by it nearly so much."

"You know what One-Eye used to say about you? You think
too much. He was right. You don't have any more obligation to
him. Let's go back to our own world, see about spanking our
little girl and getting my baby sister straightened up." Her
voice changed severely as her thoughts turned. "One thing I
demand. Still. Narayan Singh. I want him. He's
mine."

I winced inside my helmet. Poor Narayan. I said, "I still
have one thing to do here."

"What?" she snapped.

"After those three leave. I have to get Tobo's
friends back."

She grunted and resumed walking. She had to make sure the road
across the plain could be closed behind us, so that we would not
become victims of the explosion, too.


Chapter 32 

The Shadowlands: The Protector of All the
Taglias

Soulcatcher's survival instincts had been
honed to a razor's edge by centuries of adventures among
peoples who considered her continued good health a liability. She
sensed a change in the world long before she had any idea what that
change might be, good or ill or indifferent, and ages before she
dared hazard a guess as to its cause.

At first it was just that sense. Then, gradually, it became the
pressure of a thousand eyes. But she could discover nothing. Her
crows could find nothing either, other than the occasional,
unpredictable, flickering glimpse of their quarry, the two
Deceivers. That was ancient news.

Soulcatcher abandoned the hunt immediately. It would not be
difficult to get close to the Deceivers again.

She learned nothing more before nightfall--except that her crows
were extremely unsettled, getting more and more nervous, less and
less tractable and increasingly inclined to jump at shadows. They
could not make clear the nature of their malaise because they did
not understand it themselves.

That began to grow clearer as the twilight gathered. Messengers
interrupted Soulcatcher's meditations to inform her that
several of the murder had fallen prey to a sudden illness.
"Show me."

She made no effort to disguise herself as she followed her birds
to the nearest feathered corpse. She picked it up, rolled it
carefully in her gloved hands.

It was obvious what had killed the crow. Not illness but a
killer shadow. No cadaver looked like one did after a shadow
finished with it. But that could not be. It was still light out.
Her tame shadows were all in hiding and there were no rogue shadows
around anymore. Nor would wild shadows have wasted themselves on a
crow when there was human game in the vicinity. She should have
heard Narayan Singh and that wretched niece of hers screaming long
before any crow . . . There had been no sound
from the bird whatsoever. Nor had there been from any of a half
dozen others the murder knew to be gone. The survivors had plenty
to say. Including stating plainly that they were not about to stray
away from her protection.

"How can I fight this if I don't know what it is? If
you won't find out for me?"

The crows would not be bullied or cajoled. They were geniuses
for birds. Which meant they were just bright enough to have noticed
that every one of the dead had been completely alone when evil had
befallen them.

Soulcatcher cursed them, then calmed herself and convinced the
most valiant birds that they had to, therefore, do their scouting
in threes and fours until darkness closed in completely. At that
point she would have bats and owls and her own shadows available to
take over.

Darkness came. As the Deceivers correctly observe, the darkness
always comes.

With nightfall came a silent but horribly vicious warfare with
Soulcatcher poised at the eye of the storm.

Initially she had to hold on desperately against unknown
assailants until her own shadows could bring in enough swift
reinforcements. Then, spending shadows profligately, she took the
offensive. And when dawn came, and she was almost without
supernatural allies because of the cost of the struggle, she gave
way to exhaustion, having gained a knowledge of a portion of the
truth.

They were back. The Black Company were, with new formations, new
allies, new sorceries, and still without a dram of mercy in their
hearts. These were not the Company she had known in younger years
but they were the spiritual children of the cold killers of the
olden days. No matter what you tried, it seemed, you could kill
only men. The ideal lived on.

Ha! An end to the boredom of empire stood at hand.

Bravado and pretense did not lessen the inexplicable fear. They
had fled onto the plain. And now they were back. That had to mean
much more. She needed to interrogate shadows who had existed on the
glittering stone during those silent years. When there was time.
Before she did anything else she had to do what she always did so
well: survive.

She was out here hundreds of miles from any support. She was
besieged by things that would not yield to her will or sorcery and
which she could detect, it seemed, only through her own shadows or
when one of them attacked her directly. They were as fierce as
shadows but strange. They were more otherworldly than her spirit
slaves and seemed possessed of a higher order of intelligence.

Each one she extinguished personally infected her with both a
vast sorrow and with the certainty that she was battling only the
most feeble of their kind. Always there was a powerful presentiment
of demons or demigods to come.

What she could not comprehend was why all this frightened her
so. There was nothing here more deadly or threatening or bizarre
than a thousand perils she had faced before. Nothing here matched
the sheer dark menace of the Dominator in his time.

There were infrequent moments when she still longed for those
dark and ancient times. The Dominator had taken her and all her
sisters, had made one of them his wife and another his
lover . . . 

He had been a strong, hard, cruel man, the Dominator. His empire
had been one of cruelty and steel. And Soulcatcher had revelled in
its pomp and dark glory. And would never forgive her rival, her
last surviving sister, for having brought all that to an end. Blame
the death of the Dominator on the White Rose if you wanted.
Soulcatcher knew the truth. The Dominator never would have gone
down if his whining virgin of a wife had not helped his destruction
along.

And who had fought and conspired so hard after their
resurrection to keep the Dominator in the ground? His loving wife,
that was who!

She would be back. She would be out there somewhere, wherever
the Black Company had been hiding. She was not here yet but she
would be soon. Having been buried alive again would be no
impediment to the inevitable, that grim moment when they would
settle their differences face-to-face.

Soulcatcher could will herself blind in some quarters, despite
centuries of cynical experience. She would not see that fortune
could be just as erratic and insane as she was.

Soulcatcher's powers of recuperation were tremendous.
After a few hours of rest she rose and started walking northward,
her stride long and confident. Tonight she would gather an army of
her own shadows around her. Never again would she be as threatened
as she had been the night before.

So she told herself.

By late afternoon her confidence was as high as ever it had been
and fragments of her mind were already peeping past today's
crisis to scout out what might be done to sculpt the future.

Soulcatcher had long been intimate with the knowledge that
horrible things could and did happen to her but always she had
enjoyed the certainty that she would come through everything
alive.


Chapter 33 

Khatovar: Leave-taking

Looks
clean," Swan said. Murgen and Thai Dei grunted agreement. I
nodded to the Nyueng Bao. What he had to say meant something here.
His eyes were still as sharp as those of a lad of fifteen. I was
damned near blind in one and could not see out the other.

"Doj? What do you think? Did they run away? Or did they
sneak back just in case we sneaked back?" Element of surprise
no longer my ally, I did not want to run into the Voroshk again.
Especially not those old men. They would be bitter and in a mood to
drag me down to hell with them.

"They went away. They went back to prepare for the
onslaught. They know horror and despair are headed their way but
they also know they're strong enough to weather it if they
remain calm and work hard."

I suspect I gaped. "How do you figure all that?"

"It's just a matter of mental exercise. Take what we
know about them, about sorcerers as a whole, and about human beings
in general, and the rest follows. They've been through this
before, in a smaller way. They'll have worked out what to do
if it happened again. All this empty country, from here to the
other side of their Dandha Presh, will serve the same function as
the cleared ground surrounding a fortress expecting to be
besieged."

"You've convinced me. Let's just hope
they're not so ready that they figure out how to come looking
for us after they wrap up their pest problem." As badly as
the shadowgate and nearby barrier had been damaged I doubted the
Voroshk would have much energy to spare for generations.

Swan said, "He had me for a minute, too, but here comes
the argument that proves what I always knew: Uncle Doj is full of
shit."

A half dozen billowing black forms had emerged from the
vegetation down the slope. They were walking very slowly, two by
two, hands extended away from their sides, their flying posts
tagging along behind at waist height.

I said, "I don't know what the fuck is going on but
I want Goblin and Doj ready for anything. Murgen, you and Thai Dei
spread out so we can hit them from in front and both sides with
fireballs." Me and my pals had three live poles, literally
all our band had left. Lady said there were just six usable
fireballs between the three. She hoped.

One for each of the Voroshk.

Swan said, "You sure we really need to round up those
spooks? Life would be a lot
easier . . . "

"Right here. Right now. But what happens back home when
we've got Soulcatcher coming at us and we yell for Tobo to
let loose the Black Hounds and there ain't no Black Hounds?
And the rest of the Unknown Shadows say, `Fuck that shit! I
ain't getting skragged for these guys who wouldn't even
try to bring the Hounds out of Khatovar.' "

Swan growled. Goblin sneered, "A little passion, Captain?
I thought you'd lost it all."

"When I want shit out of you, runt, I'll kick it
out. What did he just say?" The Voroshk had stopped coming
toward us. One had spoken. And, O wonder, his words sounded like
something I ought to understand. "Say that again,
buddy."

The sorcerer got the idea. He repeated himself, loudly and
slowly, the way you do with the hard of hearing, the dim of wit and
foreigners.

"What is that noise?" I asked. "I know there
were words in there that I should recognize."

"Remember Juniper?" Goblin said. "It sounds
like he's trying to speak what they spoke there."

"Makes sense. Bowalk came from Juniper. So listen
close." Goblin had served in Juniper, too. A long time ago. I
have a knack for languages. Could I get enough of this one back
fast enough to do us any good? We did not have many hours of
daylight left.

Something began to get past the fact that the Voroshk had a
horrible accent and his grammar was atrocious. He butchered tenses
and inverted his verbs and subjects.

Goblin and I compared notes as we proceeded. The little wizard
had never spoken the language well but he had had no trouble
understanding it.

"What's going on?" Swan demanded. He was
holding one of the bamboo poles. It was getting heavy.

"Sounds like they want us to take them with us. That they
think the end of the world is coming and they don't want to
participate."

Goblin nodded, agreeing. He added a caveat, "But I
wouldn't trust them for a second. I'd always assume
they were sent to spy on us."

"Yes," I said. "I'd do that with just
about anybody."

Goblin ignored the jibe. "Make them strip. Bone naked. Doj
I and I can go over their clothes like we're looking for
nits."

"All right. Only I'm taking Doj with me to help
collect my snail shells." I began telling the Voroshk what
they had to do if they really wanted to go with us. They were not
pleased. They wanted to argue. I did not argue even though I hoped
to get my hands on a flying post or two so Lady and Tobo could
study them. Damn, having a few of those sure would be handy.

I told the Voroshk, "If I don't see naked bodies
I'd better see the backs of people getting away. Anybody who
isn't doing one or the other by a count of fifty will die
where he's standing on his dignity." The language came
back to me quite well, though I did not really make my statement
that clearly. The two Voroshk who were probably the brightest began
disrobing almost immediately. They proved to be as pale and blond
as the girls we had seen already, though red with embarrassment and
shaking with fury. I watched carefully, not with much interest in
their flesh. How much determination they put into something
humiliating would give me a hint or two about their sincerity.

It was too much for one young woman. She got just far enough for
her true sex to become evident before she found that she could not
finish.

"Better run, girl," I said. And she did. She hopped
aboard her flying log and scooted.

Her desertion had a definite impact on one of the young men. He
changed his mind even though he was already naked. I did not hurry
him as he dressed.

That left four, three boys and a girl, all in their early to
middle-teens.

I waved uphill, confident that by now Lady would be watching and
could guess what I needed. She is clever that way. And shortly a
couple of guys were headed downhill lugging bundles of odds and
ends with which to dress our prisoners.

They did not yet quite understand their new status. I brought
them through the shadowgate one at a time, watching carefully. I
did not expect them to try anything but I am alive at my age
because I make a habit of being ready for trouble when it seems
most unlikely. I asked, "Anybody got any reason to think
whoever goes out the gate is going to get into trouble?" To
their further humiliation the Voroshk kids found themselves with
their hands bound behind them as soon as they were dressed.

The fellow with the feeble command of Juniper's lingo
protested the indignity. "It's only temporary," I
assured him. "Just while us few are on the outside." I
shifted to Taglian. "Murgen, Swan, Thai Dei, you keep these
guys on a short leash."

Bamboo poles lashed the air. Despite age and its attendant
cynicism, those guys could put on a show of enthusiasm. Mainly
faked. Swan promised me, "Anything happens to you, there
won't be anything left of them but grease stains and
toenails."

"You're a good man, Swan. Doj, you go through
first." The elderly Nyueng Bao drew the sword Ash Wand and
stepped through the damaged shadowgate into Khatovar. He positioned
himself. I said, "Your turn, Goblin." By hand sign I
told Murgen not to be shy about flinging a fireball at surprise
targets outside.

What followed was anticlimactic. I took a sack around to all the
places I remembered seeding earlier and collected snail shells.
Those in which something had hidden itself had a distinct feel.

My ravens returned while I was involved in the harvest. They
reported the Voroshk feverishly preparing for nightfall. They
believed our defectors were genuine. Terror and panic were
spreading across the world as fast as Voroshk messengers could
fly.

The birds made the recovery of our shadow companions much
easier. They let me know which shells were a waste of time and
where to find the ones I had forgotten. We were all back through
the shadowgate an hour before sunset.

Goblin was still examining the clothing removed from the Voroshk
kids. The little wizard piped. "This is some truly amazing
material, Croaker. I think it might be sensitive to the thoughts of
whoever is wearing it."

"Is it safe?"

"I think it's completely inert as long as it
isn't in contact with whoever is keyed to wear it."

"A little something more for Tobo to play with during all
the spare time he's going to have in the middle of a war.
Bundle it up. Put it on a mule at the front of the column. We need
to get going." I shifted languages, told the unhappy
youngsters, "I'm releasing you now. I'm going to
bring you back out here, one at a time, so you can get your posts.
You won't be allowed to ride them. You'll travel at the
rear of our column." I went on to tell them about the dangers
of the plain while they were following instructions. Their fear of
the shadows gave me a good chance to retain their attention. I
tried to impress them that a screw-up on the plain would kill not
just the fuck-up but the whole crew, so they should not expect my
people to be gentle if their behavior was unacceptable.

I was the last of the Company to leave Khatovar's soil.
Before I departed I indulged in a little personal ceremony of
farewell, or perhaps of exorcism.

The youngster capable of some communication wanted to know,
"What is the meaning of what you just did?"

I tried to explain. He did not get it. In time I determined that
he had never heard of the Free Companies of Khatovar. That he knew
almost nothing of the history of his world before his ancestors had
taken power. That, furthermore, he did not care.

He seemed a shallow young man, overall. No doubt his companions
were much the same.

The Company was going to be a revelation for them.

Lady and I stayed at the end of the road, waiting to make sure
we had sealed it successfully against shadow incursions. The sun
set. The sense of presence that comes when a large number of killer
shadows are gathering grew powerful as darkness came. A rising
excitement informed that presence, as though the Host of the
Unforgiven Dead knew that some change had taken place even though
they could not come out and scout around in the daytime.

The skies remained clear over Khatovar. The moon rose just
before sunset, so there was ample silvery light to reveal the
opening stage of the shadow invasion. A trickle of small explorers
gradually slithered through the shattered boundary. The scream of a
dying pig reached us. More shadows descended the slope. Though they
did not appear to be communicating with one another, somehow more
and more and bigger and bigger shadows became aware of the
opportunity.

"Look there," Lady said. A line of Voroshk flyers
had begun passing near the moon. Before long little balls of light
were bubbling into existence within the dense vegetation down the
slope. "Maybe something like our fireballs."

The fireballs had been created, originally, to destroy the
floods of darkness the Shadowmasters insisted on throwing against
us.

"They're going to put up a fight, anyway. Will you
look at that?" That being the Nef.

"The dreamwalkers are going out? I wonder why."

"Too bad we couldn't let the shadows all get out,
then slam the gate shut behind them."

Even Shivetya would agree, I supposed. He was not pleased with
some of the improvements made on his plain during recent
millennia.

Lady said, "We should get moving. And you might want to
put some thought into what to do with our new children once we get
to the other end and they become tempted to run away."

Yes. I should. We did not need any more psychotic sorcerers
getting under foot.


Chapter 34 

The Shadowlands: Tobo's Chores

Tobo finished
interviewing the black raven that was not really a bird, sent it
racing back to Croaker. He found his mother and Sleepy with
Sleepy's usual fellow travelers studying a map of the
territories north of the Dandha Presh. They were trying to
determine the most favorable route northward, once the force
finished crossing the mountains. Little colored patches represented
the last known positions of the Protector and of Narayan Singh.

Sleepy asked, "News from Croaker?"

"He's finished it. He's on his way. But it
turned stranger than he expected." He relayed the full
report.

Sleepy told him, "You'll have to go back. We
can't risk the chance of another gang of sorcerers getting
loose over here."

"I suppose." Tobo had no enthusiasm for that.
"I don't like it. Why didn't he just kill them
after he had their flying things and that remarkable
clothing?"

"Because he doesn't do things like that." Not
to mention the fact that dead people are not real cooperative when
it comes time for them to share their knowledge.

"No. He lets people get away with stuff, then hunts them
down thirty years later." She made a growling noise.
"How can I keep moving if I don't have you
here?"

"If Croaker is on this side all the Unknown Shadows will
be on this side, too. The Black Hounds will be running out front in
no time. A day or two later we'll be able to see what's
going on anywhere we want to look." Sleepy needed that
reassurance. She was worried about everything going on out where
she had no ability to see. Reminding her that most people,
including most captains, went through whole lives far more blind
than she had ever been, did nothing to improve her temper.

Sleepy was spoiled. Throughout her association with the Company,
one way or another, we had owned some ability to find out what was
happening far away from us. You let anybody have something for a
little while, they soon consider it their birthright. Sleepy was
very much no exception to that rule.

Goblin crabbed, "I understand that you need Tobo here
before you can let the prisoners leave the plain. But why
shouldn't the rest of us go ahead? We aren't getting
anything useful done just sitting here."

"You're getting done what I want you to get done.
Now be quiet. Before I gag you."

I became impatient myself before Tobo finally appeared. He was
subject to the constraints of normal travel. We had no flying
carpets anymore, though there was hope that the Howler might create
some once he was reawakened. (Nobody had yet tried.) And now there
was the possibility we might gain the secrets of the Voroshk flying
posts.

Tobo came in astride the superhorse that had attached itself to
Sleepy. Bred originally to serve the Lady of the Tower up north, a
number had come south with the Company. This was the last known
survivor.

"How long do those things live, hon?" I asked Lady
as Tobo approached.

"Maybe forty years. At the extreme. This one is pushing
the limit."

"Looks pretty spry." Despite having run forty miles
the animal looked almost fresh.

"I did good work in those days."

"And you miss them now?"

"Yes." She would not lie to me. She did not love me
any less for missing being what once she had been, either. Near as
I can tell, she never regrets anything she does, good or evil. I
wish I could be that way.

Tobo dismounted right outside the shadowgate. I passed him
through. He got straight to business, though he smiled and waved to
his father and uncle and Doj. "You have five prisoners? All
major wizards?"

"I don't know about that. They could be complete
no-talents, far as I can tell. But they did go flying around on
fenceposts wearing a kind of super-fabric that Goblin says can be
manipulated by thoughts. This comes across as a `You'd
better be careful, Croaker' kind of sign."

"We can communicate with them?"

"We have two brothers whose father studied and managed
Bowalk while she was in Khatovar. The father could force Bowalk to
resume human shape for an hour or two sometimes, but he
couldn't keep her there. He thought the problem was a
deadman-loop Shapeshifter built into the shape-changing spells.
Shifter didn't trust her. The loop activated when One-Eye
killed him.

"Anyway, this Voroshk's kids picked up some of
Bowalk's native tongue from being around her, which has been
for all of their lives. When the Voroshk blew up the shadowgate one
of them got the bright idea that he could talk us into taking them
to safety somewhere else. He rounded up some friends who were just
as scared and came to us. He assumed we all spoke the same language
as the forvalaka. He had some strange notion that we would
recognize the innate superiority of the Voroshk and take his bunch
in as honored guests. He couldn't imagine it being any other
way because that's the only way it could be in Khatovar.
He's vain, stupid and arrogant. They all seem to be. The
other brother more so. He won't even talk."

Tobo smiled a little unpleasantly, perhaps recalling similar
attitudes amongst Hsien's warlords. "I expect
they've all suffered one disappointment after another."

"Absodamnlutely. Life has become an unimaginable hell for
these kids. I have to remind them over and over that they're
still alive."

"Let's go meet them, shall we?" The kid looked
like he was excited by the challenge.

As we approached the refugees I warned Tobo,
"They're all gorgeous but I really don't think
they have a brain between them. At least they show every sign of
being slow learners."

We stopped several yards from Khatovar's forlorn children.
They huddled together beside the road as Black Company men and
mules began to move out through the shadowgate. Only one of the
girls had ambition enough to look up. The little one. The one we
had taken prisoner.

She stared at Tobo for half a minute. Then she murmured
something to her companions. They looked up, too. Only the
ringleader and his brother betrayed their native arrogance. And it
had not been that long or arduous a journey.

They seemed to sense something in Tobo that was not apparent to
me. It awakened hope. Several babbled questions in their own
language.

"When they stop yammering tell them who I am. Don't
feel like you have to be entirely honest, either."

"A little exaggeration couldn't hurt?"

"Hardly ever."

The interview lasted longer than I anticipated. Tobo was
remarkably patient for his age. He worked hard to make the Voroshk
understand that they were no longer in the land of their fathers,
that here it did not matter who they were or who their parents had
been. In our world they were going to have to sing for their
supper.

We broke for a snack. The Voroshk and their guards were the only
people left on the plain side of the shadowgate. I told Tobo,
"I admire your patience."

"Me, too. Already I want to kick some of them. And
it's not really all patience, anyway. I'm trying to
learn more about them by reading what they don't say and what
they do let slip. You're right. They don't seem very
bright. Though I'm guessing that's as much because of
the way they were educated as it is any natural stupidity. They
have no idea whatsoever of their own past. None! Never heard of the
Free Companies. Never heard of the Lance of Passion. Didn't
know that some really great wizards from Khatovar erected the
standing stones that are all over the plain, at great peril to
themselves from shadows. Didn't even recognize the name
Khatovar, though they do know Khadi as some vague, old-time demon
that nobody cares about anymore."

"How do you know that? About the memorial
stones."

"Baladitya got it from Shivetya. You did notice that the
runes on the flying logs are almost identical to the ones on the
standing stones?"

"I didn't notice that, no. Mostly I've kept
busy watching Goblin. The little shit speaks a bit of the language.
He's been sneaking around talking to them."

Tobo chewed and nodded and looked thoughtful. "You ask him
about it?"

"Hardly. I don't trust that guy, Tobo. One-Eye told
me not to just before he passed."

"Nobody is going to trust Goblin for a long time, Croaker.
And he knows that as well as anybody else does. He'll be the
carefulest Goblin you ever saw. You won't even recognize
him."

"We're talking about Goblin here. He can't
help himself."

"He got into most of what he got into because One-Eye
dragged him along. Think about it, Croaker. If he's somehow
turned into Kina's tool, his assignment will be a long-term
one. `Bring on the Year of the Skulls' kind of stuff.
He won't get himself killed trying something
trivial."

I grunted. That made perfect sense on a rational level but I
remained unconvinced. Goblin was Goblin. I had known him for a long
time. The things he did did not always make sense, even to him. I
asked, "What'll we do with the Voroshk?"

"I'm going to educate them."

Damn! I did not like the way he said that.

He replaced my guards with his own cronies, Taglians led by a
senior sergeant called Riverwalker. All these guards were fluent in
the language of Hsien and possessed a working knowledge of Nyueng
Bao, which was a close cousin of the language spoken in the Land of
Unknown Shadows.

Tobo instructed the guards, then the prisoners. Through me.
Explaining the facts of life. "These men will be your teachers.
They will teach you languages and the skills you will need to get
along in this world. They will expose you to our religions and laws
and the ways we have for getting along with one another."

The boy doing the translating started to protest.

Riverwalker smacked him in the back of the head hard enough to
knock him down.

Tobo continued, "You have to understand that you're
guests. You bought passage out of Khatovar with your knowledge.
Your lives will be as comfortable as we can make them so long as
you cooperate. But we are at war with ancient and powerful enemies.
We won't be inclined toward patience with anyone who
doesn't cooperate. Our patience will be especially short with
people we consider dangerous. Do you understand?"

Tobo waited for me to finish translating. I asked an extra time
to make sure the kids really grasped the gravity of the situation.
Youngsters have a hard time getting it when the cruel and deadly
applies to them personally. They also tend to agree to almost
anything just to stop hearing about it.

Tobo had me tell them, "The rest of today and tonight you
can rest. Tomorrow you'll begin an intensive education in
Taglian. While we're hurrying to catch up with the rest of
our army. I'll travel with you and will help you as much as I
can."

The leader boy wanted to argue again. He had not listened
closely enough to what he was translating. Riverwalker knocked him
down again. Tobo told me, "That one's going to be
trouble."

"There's a good chance they all will be. They
couldn't get along at home." They had to be misfits.
Shifting languages, I told the kids, "If you make yourselves
more trouble than you're worth these people will kill you.
Come on. I think I see some chow waiting to make our
acquaintance."

One of the girls said something in her own language. The
captive, not the one who had come along with the boys.

I responded to the whine. "Tell her she can't go
home. It's too late for that."

Meantime, Tobo remarked, "But everybody here is running
away from something."

"Some," I stipulated. "How soon do you think
we'll get a chance to sit down somewhere? I've got a
lot of writing to catch up on."

Tobo laughed. "You'd better stage a coup, you want a
chance to sit down. Sleepy won't take time off until the
corpses are piled high enough to make fences."

The Voroshk seemed to enjoy their evening meal. They were hungry
enough to appreciate anything. We started teaching them Taglian
nouns. Tobo studied both them and the wonders they had brought with
them. He seemed less impressed by their flying posts than he was by
the clothing they were no longer permitted to wear.

He told me, "Those posts look like a variation on the same
sorcery Howler uses to operate his flying carpets. I should be able
to work it out eventually. If I can get around some spells
that're meant to make the posts destroy themselves if they
fall into the wrong hands."

I told him about the two I had seen explode.

"Pretty potent self-destruct, then. I'll be
careful."

"Be careful of those girls, too. I think the little
one's already staked you out."

Come morning the leader kid could not be wakened. He was alive,
all right, but no one could rouse him. "What did you
do?" I asked Tobo, whispering, having leapt to a conclusion
involving Tobo wanting the potential troublemaker out of the way
without us losing access to his post and clothing.

"I had nothing to do with it."

Lady examined the boy after I did. She said, "This looks a
lot like the coma Smoke went into for so long."

I agreed. But Soulcatcher had been responsible for that, we
believed. And there was no way this could be her doing. The Unknown
Shadows knew every move she made. And would turn aside any monsters
she sent against us. I wondered aloud, "Were any of your
invisible friends around here last night? Maybe they saw
something."

"I'll check."

By dint of ferocity I got the unconscious kid's brother to
admit that he could communicate. I made him understand that they
needed to bind his brother onto one of their posts. Otherwise he
would get left behind when we moved out.

The kids were terrified.

"Handy disaster," Lady remarked.

"Yeah. But for whom?"


Chapter 35 

Taglios: The Message

Mogaba swore
softly but virulenty, foully and steadily. Crows had been arriving
for over an hour, each bird carrying a fragment of a long message
from the Protector. Being birdbrained, no one crow could carry much
of the whole. And because they were vulnerable to a thousand
misfortunes, every fragment had to be sent again and again.

The Great General hated putting these puzzles together and this
one was the worst ever, by an order of magnitude. There should not be this many crows in the whole world.

He had twenty scribes working on the message already.

Some points became clear quickly.

He sent for Aridatha Singh and Ghopal Singh. This message would
affect all of them.

By the time the others arrived, enough of the puzzle had come
clear for Mogaba to reveal what, for him, was the most critical
detail. "They're back."

Aridatha jumped, startled by Mogaba's intensity.
"Back? Who's back?"

"The Black Company. The Protector destroyed them. Right?
Root and branch. Right? But now she says they're back.
They're patching her message together in the next room right
now."

Ghopal asked, "What are you talking about?"

"There's a huge message coming in from our employer.
She's given up her quest. She's on the run, headed
home. The Black Company is pouring through the shadowgate.
Thousands strong. Well-armed, well-clad, well-trained. With the
Radisha Drah and Prahbrindrah Drah in their train and blessing
them. And we have nothing much in their way for hundreds of miles.
She's headed back here. She expects to lose her ability to
watch them shortly. They have some unfamiliar kind of supernatural
help coming off the plain with them. Evidently something like the
shadows but more dangerous because they're
smarter."

Aridatha observed, "Sounds like pretty good intelligence
gathering for somebody who's on the run from an enemy who
knows her capabilities." Singh's handsome face had lost
some of its color. His voice had gone husky.

"A thought which did not escape me. She is Soulcatcher,
after all. On the other hand, though, she can't learn
anything when there isn't anything to see."

Aridatha and Ghopal nodded. In all ways, except in their hearts,
they remained dedicated servants of the Protector.

Mogaba said, "The enemy being familiar with the
Protector's capabilities means they'll try to take them
away from her. We don't know who's in charge but
doctrine is doctrine. They'll try to blind her first, then
they'll try to take away her capacity to communicate. They
couldn't have come at a better time for them. She's a
hundred miles from nowhere. She can't spread the word much
faster than rumors will spread. And you know the news that the
Radisha and her brother are coming back will spread like the
plague."

Ghopal said, "I'll seal this part of the Palace off,
then. We don't want those people in there running to their
temples or whatever and telling too much of the truth to someone
who'd use it as a tool against us."

"Do that." That would look good to the
Protector's invisible spies. But, on the other hand it might
be very useful to have some of the news get out. Taglios might fall
into a state of chaos. A state in which there would be
opportunities. Chaos could be very useful. Chaos could make
wonderful camouflage.

Perhaps when the Protector was nearer Taglios.

Right now it was necessary to prepare for the advent of the
Company. That would be expected from all quarters.

Where did they find so many men? Or shadows of their own? What
other surprise cards did they have in their hand?

Some, surely. That was their nature.

Mogaba said, "We've got to leak some of the news.
Like it or not. We have to get ready for war. We're headed
for a fight. Unless we give up without a struggle. I don't
plan to do that myself. I couldn't live with the
consequences."

The Singhs exchanged glances. The Great General showing a sense
of humor? Remarkable.

Ghopal said, "People are afraid of the Black
Company."

"Of course they are. But when was the last time they won?
We beat them over and over during the Kiaulune wars." Mogaba
was proud of his work back then. His thinking and planning had
contributed to every Taglian triumph.

"But we didn't wipe them all the way out. The
trouble with the Black Company is that if you leave even one of
them alive, before long they're coming right back at you
again."

"My brother unforgiven." That slogan haunted
Mogaba's nightmares. He had his regrets.

"How soon can we expect the Protector?" Ghopal
asked. "I'll have preparations to make."

Mogaba said, "She was on foot when she started sending her
message. But she'll get to a courier station eventually. Then
she'll start making good time. I wouldn't count on
having more than another two or three days if she gets in a real
hurry."

Ghopal grunted unhappily.

Mogaba nodded. Nothing ever went easily.

Aridatha asked, "Did she catch the Deceivers?"

Once again Mogaba thought the man betrayed a curiously skewed
interest. Possibly a personal interest. "No. I told you, she
said she was breaking off the chase. Enough. We all pretty much
know what we need to do. Aridatha, I want the entire courier
battalion here as soon as possible. The garrison commanders will
need to be advised. I'll let you know right away if any
critical news comes in."

Watching the message continue to approach final form, the Great
General reviewed his unit commanders and the readiness and
reliability of their commands. He was troubled. At first glance it
would seem he could call up the resources of an empire. But the
Protector had not concerned herself with the upkeep of her armed
forces when she was not directly and immediately threatened. And
she was not remotely popular, never had been and never wanted to
be. She preferred rule by raw strength.

The Prahbrindrah Drah and his sister returning was particularly
troubling. They had been popular in their era and in time's
crucible had gone through the first stages of sanctification
already. Some would hail them as liberators. Hell, if
Croaker was still alive they might give him his old title
back.

There would be desertions, both at high levels and among the
soldiers. Mogaba was more concerned about the troops. The nobility
and senior priests, who owed their positions to the Protector,
would play it carefully. Taglios had received several painful
lessons regarding the price to be paid for betraying the
Protector.

Where would it be best to bring the Company to battle? And how
could he force battle upon them if they were reluctant to hazard a
major encounter?

He was sure that his best chance lay in forcing an early
confrontation, before what forces he did have began to
evaporate.


Chapter 36 

The Nether Taglian Territories: The
Barrens

Soulcatcher
hastened along the bank of a creek that was almost as still and
deep as a canal, looking for a way to cross. She had miscalculated
when she had chosen to cut across these moors and downs to reach
the shabby stronghold at Nijha. Clinging to the road would have
meant a longer walk but there would have been bridges for times
like these.

When she encountered obstacles of this sort she had no choice
but to guess which way to turn. She did not know the country. She
was blind. There were no bats or owls to send scouting. There were
no shadows tonight. She had sent all those to safety, along with
her crows. She knew she was capable of dealing with the hobgoblins
following her around.

Something rose from the water behind her. It had a shape like a
horse. A voice whispered in her ear, telling her to come and ride.
She barely glanced at it, and then only in total scorn. These
things might be smarter than shadows but they could not be by much.
How stupid did they think she was? She did not have to be familiar
with the folklore of Hsien to understand that the water horse would
drag her under.

She ignored the monster, not knowing it was an afanc, actually
of centaur shape rather than equine. A half hour later she ignored
one of its cousins, which took the semblance of a giant beaver.
Then there was one resembling a crocodile, though this creek was
four hundred miles from anywhere warm enough to support those giant
reptiles. They all whispered to her. Some of them even knew her
true name.

She found a plank footbridge evidently put in place by the
seldom-seen, horse-stealing natives of these highlands. As she
started across, something whispered to her from underneath. She did
not understand its words but their menace was plain enough.

"You don't want me crossing, come up and do
something about it." The voice she chose was that of a small
child who was severely annoyed, but not frightened.

Something came up. It was huge and dark and ugly. In spots it
glowed with a leprous inner light. It had way too many teeth. They
stuck out of its mouth at all angles. It would have trouble when it
came time to eat.

All those teeth and fangs snapped open as the monster prepared
to lunge.

Soulcatcher's gloved right hand drifted forward. A spray
of sparkling dust floated onward to meet the evil spirit.

It screamed.

Soulcatcher leapt off the bridge an instant before it shattered
to kindling. She backed away, watched the fiend thrash and melt.
From behind her mask came a soft wee sound like a little
girl's skip-rope song, with a refrain that went, "It
was fun to watch you die."


Chapter 37 

The Taglian Territories: Somewhere North of
Charandaprash

The Daughter of
Night actually seemed to be thriving now that the Protector was
stalking them no longer. Narayan was worried.

"You're always worried," she chided. She was
happy. Her voice was musical. The light of the campfire made her
eyes sparkle--when it did not make them glow red. "If someone
is after us you worry about getting caught. If we're safe you
worry about me not being a perfect replica of this image of the
Daughter of Night you've invented inside your head. Narayan,
Narayan . . . Papa Narayan, what I want more
than anything is somehow to fix it so you don't have to do
this anymore. You've been the one for so
long . . . You deserve to put it all down now
and relax."

Narayan knew that was not possible. Never would be. He did not
argue, though. "Then let's bring on the Year of the
Skulls. Once Kina returns we can loaf for the rest of our
lives."

The girl shivered, seemed puzzled. Then she shuddered violently.
She grew more pale, leaving Narayan wondering how she managed that
when she was always as pale as death to begin. She stared out into
the night, obviously troubled.

Narayan started to dump dirt--piled there for that purpose--onto
the fire.

The girl said, "It's too late."

A huge shape rose behind her--then faded away as though dispersed
by the wind.

"Kid's right, old man," said a voice Singh had
not heard for years and was hearing again far sooner than he had
hoped.

Iqbal and Runmust Singh--no relation to Narayan--appeared at the
edge of the firelight, wavering, as though they were a mist
coalescing. Other men appeared behind them, soldiers in a style of
armor Narayan had never seen. Amongst the soldiers he saw drooling
red-eyed beasts of species he had never seen before, either.

Singh's heart redoubled its wild pounding.

The girl observed, "Now we know why my aunt quit chasing
us."

Runmust Singh agreed. "Now you know. The Black Company is
back. And we're not happy." Runmust was a great shaggy
Shadar whose sheer size was oppressive.

Iqbal Singh smiled, perfect teeth glistening in the middle of
his brushy beard. "This time you'll have to deal with
your mother and your father." Iqbal was as shaggy and nearly
as huge as his brother but somehow less intimidating. The girl
remembered him having a wife and several children.
But . . . Did he mean her birth mother? Her
natural father? But they were supposed to be dead.

Her knees went watery. She never had seen her natural
parents.

The living saint was unable to keep his feet. Kina was going to
test him yet again. And he had no energy left to spend in the fight
for his faith. He was too old and too feeble and his faith had worn
too thin.

Runmust gestured. The soldiers closed in. They were careful men
who made certain they did not get between their captives and the
crossbows threatening them. They put the girl's hands into
wool-stuffed sacks, then bound her wrists behind her. They gagged
her gently, then pulled a loose woolen sack over her head. They
were aware that she might work some witchery.

Narayan they placed up on an extra horse, then tied him into the
saddle. They were doing him no kindness. They were in a hurry. He
would be too slow if they made him walk behind them. They were more
gentle with the girl but her immediate fate was identical.

Their captors were not gratuitously cruel but the girl was sure
that would change when they found themselves with adequate leisure
time. The strange young soldiers in the clacking black armor seemed
highly intrigued by what they could see of her pale beauty.

This was not the way she had imagined herself becoming a woman.
And her imagination had been extremely active for several
years.


Chapter 38 

The Taglian Territories: The Dandha Presh

We were high in
the pass through the Dandha Presh when the news arrived. The
grinding weariness dragging my ancient bones down slipped my mind.
I was at the head of the column. I stopped walking, moved aside,
watched all the tired mules and men trudge past. Man and animal, we
hoped the main force had not stripped Charandaprash of food and
fodder.

The Voroshk had sunk deep into exhaustion and despair. Tobo
traveled with them, talking all the time, trying to teach them
through their pain and apathy. The kids had not had to walk
anywhere ever before.

Their flying logs followed right behind.

Lady finally came up. I joined her. I sensed that rumor had
reached her already, even though nobody seemed to have any breath
to waste on conversation. Rumor is magical, maybe even
supernatural.

I told her anyway. "Runmust and Iqbal have captured
Narayan and Booboo. They never stopped heading our way after
Soulcatcher left off chasing them."

"I heard."

"You as nervous as I am?"

"Probably more." We trudged along for a while. Then
she said, "I never got a chance to be a mother. I never got a
chance to learn how. After Narayan kidnapped her I just went back
to being me."

"I know. I know. We have to keep reminding ourselves not
to get emotionally entangled in this. She isn't going to
think of us as Mom and Dad."

"I don't want her to hate us. And I know she will.
Being the Daughter of Night is her whole life."

I thought about that. Eventually, I told her, "Being the
Lady of Charm was your whole life once upon a time. But here you
are."

"Here I am." Her lack of enthusiasm would have
disheartened a lesser man than I.

She--and I--were of an age now where we spent too much time
wondering how things might have gone had we made a few different
choices.

I had plenty of regrets. I am sure she had more. She gave up so
much more.

Willow Swan went puffing past with some remark about old folks
slowing everybody down. I asked, "You guys keeping an eye on
Goblin?"

"He don't fart without we don't know about
it."

"That goes without saying. The whole countryside
knows."

"He's not getting away with anything,
Croaker."

I was not confident about that. Goblin was a slick little
bastard. If I had the time I would stay right beside him myself,
step for step.

Lady said, "Goblin hasn't done anything
suspicious."

"I know. But he will."

"And that attitude is beginning to win him some sympathy.
I thought you ought to know."

"I know. But I can't help recalling One-Eye's
warning, either."

"You noted yourself that One-Eye would try to get his last
lick in from beyond the grave."

"Yeah. Yeah. I'll try to take it easier."

"We need to move a little faster." The rear guard
was almost up to us.

"We could lag behind and sneak off into the rocks for a
while."

"Maybe you're not as worn out as you thought, then.
Get a move on." And after a moment, "We'll talk
about that tonight."

Some motivation, then.


Chapter 39 

Taglios: The Great General

Thus far Mogaba
had contained the worst reaction to the seething rumor cauldron
that Taglios had become. His most useful tool was the carefully
placed half-truth. His representatives did not deny that something
big and dangerous was going on down south. They did, however,
suggest that it was an uprising by the same sort of Shadowlander
troublemakers who had supported the Black Company during the
Kiaulune wars. They were milking that connection from the past,
trying to intimidate opponents and encourage friends. There was no
Black Company anymore.

Rumor had not yet discovered the Prahbrindrah Drah and his
sister. Mogaba would offer the suggestion that those people were
imposters when stories did begin to circulate.

"This is actually going better than I expected," the
Great General told Aridatha Singh. "None of the garrison
commanders have refused their marching orders. Only a handful of
the senior priests and leading men have tried to pretend
neutrality."

"I wonder if that state would persist if we lost the
Protector."

Mogaba had been trying to find out for some time. The
Prahbrindrah Drah had yet to produce an heir. His only living
relative was his sister, who had run Taglios and its dependencies
for years in fact, if not in name. At one point she had proclaimed
herself her brother's successor. Though the culture militated
against a female ruler she might be allowed to take over again if
her brother preceded her in death. No one knew what would happen if
brother and sister were both gone, as most of the population
believed them to be.

The question was entirely an intellectual exercise, these days.
Power in Taglios belonged to the Protector almost exclusively.

Mogaba never pressed his questions beyond a purely speculative
level. None of his respondents suspected a deeper purpose. Nor did
anyone volunteer to participate in an effort to get rid of the
Protector, though it was no secret that most Taglians would prefer
to do without Soulcatcher's protection.

Communications with Soulcatcher had ceased. The crow population
had suffered a dramatic decimation, whether from disease or enemy
action remaining unclear. Their numbers had been dwindling for
decades, until murders in the wild were almost unknown. Bats could
not carry significant messages. Owls would not. And there was no
one at the Taglian end trained to manage and communicate with
shadows. That was a rare talent indeed and the Black Company had
exterminated the brotherhood who had shared it back when they were
still running things their way.

Soulcatcher had scoured the Shadowlands, whence those people had
sprung, length and breadth. She had turned up just a few old women
and very young children who had survived all the wars and purges.
They seemed to be a people unrelated to any other in the south, had
been unknown there before the advent of the Shadowmasters, and
among themselves had a oral tradition of having come from an
entirely different world. Those old women and babies had lacked any
useful knowledge or talent.

When his duties granted the time, Mogaba walked the main route
from the Palace to the city's southern entrance. The walls
had been under construction for decades and remained unfinished but
the southern gate complex, the most important, had been completed
and put into use ages ago. By channeling traffic through its
bottleneck the state managed to tax all incoming travelers.

He was looking for the perfect place to put an end to the
Protectorate. Four explorations had not revealed it yet. The
obvious sites were just that: obvious. Soulcatcher would be alert.
She was intimate enough with human nature to realize that rumors
fed by the crisis in the south would reawaken opposition to her
rule.

There seemed to be no way to manage it in the streets. And the
longer it was delayed the more certain she was to become suspicious
of her captains. It would be impossible for them to conceal their
nervousness.

It would have to be instantly upon her arrival or immediately
upon her entering the Palace. Or never.

They could forget the whole thing, go back to being her faithful
hounds, and wait with her for the disaster from the south.

When Mogaba thought of the Company he shuddered and was most
sorely tempted to abandon the plot against the Protector.
Soulcatcher would be a potent weapon in that war.

The gate. The south gate. It had to happen there. The complex
had been engineered for exactly that sort of thing, although on a
larger scale.

When he returned to the palace he found Aridatha Singh waiting.
"There was a messenger, General. The Protector has reached
Dejagore. She took time out to review the troops assembling there,
though it would seem the enemy isn't that far
behind."

Mogaba made a face. "We don't have much time left,
then. She won't lag long behind our couriers."
Unspoken, but understood, remained the fact that they were running
out of time to chose their final commitment.

Then Mogaba grunted. He had realized, suddenly, that the
Protector could pluck the whole opportunity right out of their
hands. Easy as snapping her fingers.


Chapter 40 

The Taglian Territories: Below Lake Tanji

We overtook Sleepy
in the hills beyond the north shore of Lake Tanji. Lady hurried
ahead. She knew better but could not help herself.

Runmust Singh's rangers were still somewhere out ahead of
the main force. They were close enough for their campfires to be
seen across the barrier hills but recent hard rains had flooded the
ravines and creeks between here and there. Which was the only
reason we had caught Sleepy so soon. The flooding had slowed her
down.

"It won't be long," she told us. "Unless
we get more rain. These washes drain fast."

I knew. I fought the Shadowmasters across these hills, many
years ago.

My wife was exasperated. She turned on Tobo, who, with his
father, was renewing acquaintances with Sahra. "When are you
going to learn enough about those damned posts so we can use
them?" A little flooding would slow nobody if we could
fly.

Tobo told Lady the truth, which was the last thing she wanted to
hear. "It might be months yet. Maybe even years. If
we're all so anxious to become more mobile, why don't
we wake the Howler up and make a deal for some flying
carpets?"

Debate was immediate and brisk with almost everyone feeling a
need to offer an opinion. Goblin, Doj, Lady, Tobo, Sahra, Willow
Swan, Murgen, Goblin again. Even Thai Dei looked like he had a
viewpoint, though he kept it to himself.

I realized that Sleepy had not stated her opinion. In fact, her
eyes had glazed over. She was far, far away. Her intensity was
disturbing.

One by one, the others fell silent. A foreboding emotional murk
began to gather. I looked for Unknown Shadows but saw nothing. What
was going on?

Tobo spoke up first. "Captain? What's the
matter?" Sleepy had begun to lose color. I got up to go find
my medical kit.

Sleepy came out of it. "Tobo." Her voice was so
intense silence spread in all directions. "Did you remember
to restore the shadowgate so it won't collapse if Longshadow
dies?"

The silence deepened. Suddenly we were holding our breaths. And
staring at Tobo. And every one of us knowing the answer even if we
had not been there and did not want it to be true.

Sleepy said, "They've had him in Hsien for as long
as we've been here. He was a frail old man. He won't
last."

Without saying a word Tobo started getting ready to travel.
Groaning, I clambered to my feet and began getting my stuff
together, too. Tobo began telling his father and Uncle Doj how to
manage the Voroshk. "You have to keep them engaged. Keep them
trying to learn. Keep them away from Goblin. You'll need to
force-feed the sick one. I don't think he's going to
last much longer."

I was not sure I overheard that last remark. He spoke very
softly.

He was right. The kid was slipping away. I could not stop
it.

I looked hard at Lady, who had shown no sign of getting ready to
do what had to be done. I told her, "You need to come.
Following Tobo you're our best gate mechanic." I
offered a hand.

Murgen, I noted, was paying his son's instructions no
attention. He was getting ready to travel, too.

Lady's expression hardened. She accepted my hand. Upright,
she stared northward. The fires in Runmust's camp were not
visible now. Rain was falling between here and there.

Several others, including Willow Swan, quietly began getting
ready to travel, too. No names were named, no orders were given.
Those who needed to go or thought their presence would be useful
began packing. Nobody grumbled. Nobody said much of anything at
all. We were all too tired to waste energy doing anything but what
had to be done.

No fingers got pointed, either. It took no genius to understand
that Tobo had been swallowed up by his own workload, with people
wanting something more from him every minute. Sleepy bore the
heaviest responsibility. It was her job to see that everything got
done. She should have had a checklist. But she had been
singleminded in her desire to move faster than resistance could
coagulate in front of her.

For that she could not be faulted. The Company had seen no
fighting yet, though nearly a quarter of the Taglian empire could
be accounted disarmed. It was the most remote and lightly populated
quarter but the strategy remained sound.

The wealth Sleepy had brought off the plain would let her
exploit the territories we held far more effectively than would
Soulcatcher's capacity for generating terror allow her to
exploit what she held.

Of course, if the shadowgate collapsed all that would be moot.
Our world would be in greater danger than Khatovar. Unlike the
Voroshk, we could not defend ourselves.

Tobo did not bother collecting the few bamboo fireball throwers
left. If we became desperate enough to need them that handful would
not do any good.

There were eight of us. Tobo and his father, me, Lady, Willow
Swan, and Thai Dei because Murgen never got out of rock-throwing
range of Tobo's uncle. Then there were two older-than-average
hardcases from Hsien, solid veterans of the warlord conflicts. One
we knew as Panda Man because his real name sounded like that. The
other was Spook. He was Spook because he had green eyes. In Hsien
demons and haunts are supposed to have green eyes.

The Unknown Shadows refuse to conform. Every one of those haunts
that I have actually seen had the more traditional red or yellow
eyes.

Many of the Unknown Shadows traveled with us. At night, under
the moon when it made its infrequent, shy appearances, the ground
surrounding us seemed to be a sea in motion. Tobo's pets did
not mind being seen just now.

Before long my two ravens rejoined me. I had seen nothing of
them since shortly after we had left the shadowgate.

Tobo told me, "I've sent scouts ahead. Now I'm
going to ride ahead, too." He was mounted on Sleepy's
superhorse. "The rest of you follow me as fast as you
can."

He surged ahead. Most of the churning darkness went with him,
though we retained enough shadowy outriders that no danger would
take us by surprise.

"I'm sorry," I told Lady.

"Not your fault this time." She was not happy,
though.

"You gotten anything out of Kina yet?"

"No. Nothing but a few infrequent touches while we were up
there with Sleepy. They were pretty faint and probably just because
we were close to Booboo."

Damn. "You think we can get back to the gate in
time?"

"You think Longshadow will fight for life if he knows that
the only thing he can accomplish is to save the people who pulled
him down and turned him over to his oldest enemies?"

That was not the answer I wanted to hear.


Chapter 41 

The Nether Taglian Territories: Leaves of
Misfortune

Runmust and Iqbal
rode northward slowly, at a pace their whole band found comfortable.
Life would not be too hard until the Captain caught up. She would
be put out because the rangers did not meet her as soon as
possible. She would get over it.

The prisoners were given no opportunity to enjoy life, but they
were not tormented directly. The Singhs would not have allowed that
even had they known that Sleepy would not mind.

There was no formal arrangement between the Singhs and the dark
spirits out of Hsien but Unknown Shadows paced them always.
Communications remained crude. Runmust generally just got a really
bad feeling when it was time to watch out. The problem was his. A
religious failing. He was allowed no congress with demons. His
innate human knack for rationalization had not yet exonerated the
Unknown Shadows from being spawn of darkness.

Runmust began to have one of those bad feelings. It grew worse
fast. Iqbal's uneasiness said that he had been touched, too.
Even some of the soldiers were becoming troubled.

Quick hand gestures. The ranger team halted. Everyone
dismounted. Scouts crept forward while the men assigned the duty
for the day began moving the prisoners and horses into a gulch off
the road.

The warriors of Hsien could be remarkly quiet and patient.
Runmust admired their skill in using the available cover in
terrain, boasting only tangled, scrubby brush, rocks and lots of
gullys. He could not do what they did. Of course, he was twice the
size of the biggest and a decade older than the oldest.

Minh Bhu, one of the best, intercepted him in his slow advance,
after signing for absolute silence.

Minh brushed leaves aside and smoothed a patch of dirt. He used
a forefinger to sketch the ground ahead, indicating the approximate
positions of a well-chosen ambush site.

Runmust signaled a general withdrawal. He looked for crows or
other creatures traditionally associated with the enemy. He saw
nothing. "How could they know we were coming?" he asked
when he was far back enough to whisper. "How many of them are
there?"

Minh shrugged. "We're not going to get a head count.
There are a lot more of them than there are of us. And as for how
did they know, from that hilltop you can see all the country we
crossed the last two days. They were probably just sent out to see
if this is the route north the Captain picks." He pointed
back south. The dust and sparkle of the main force were
obvious.

"Why an ambush?"

"They can see there aren't many of us. It would look
like a chance to take some prisoners."

"Uhm." Runmust scanned the slope. Could he turn the
tables on those people? He wished he had developed a more intimate
relationship with the Unknown Shadows. "Iqbal. Talk to
me."

"We're outnumbered, we should back away.
There's no reason to get in a fight. Or even make contact.
We've got important prisoners to protect. So let's stay
away and wait for the Captain."

Iqbal was a married man. He did not favor major risks.

Even so, Iqbal was right. Withdrawal was the only course that
was not crazy. Runmust asked, "What would they do if we did
stroll into their trap?" He wished he could catch a couple of
them. A few questions answered would tell a lot about enemy plans
and what the other side thought was happening.

"They see Sleepy coming. They'll pull out pretty
soon."

"Why do I keep getting more and more nervous?"
Runmust knew the Unknown Shadows wanted him to know something and
he just was not hearing it.

In the hills ahead horses began screaming. Men cursed. Several
dozen arrows rose into the air, fell where the enemy evidently
thought the rangers were hidden. None of the arrows came close.

Muttering curses himself, Runmust waved his men back again. They
began slipping away. Wildly sped arrows fell all across the slope.
"Idiots," Runmust muttered. "Recon by
fire." The Protector's soldiers would charge any
outcry. Or any other obvious reaction. They were an opportunity to
inflict disaster just waiting to happen.

A Taglian soldier sprang up not ten feet from Runmust, barking
in pain as he swatted his ass. Runmust froze, hoping the Taglian
was too preoccupied to notice him--though now he heard other
Taglians pushing through the dry brush and knew he could not sneak
off fast enough to get away untouched.

Iqbal carried a fireball launcher. He was supposed to use it as
an emergency signal, not as a weapon. It was believed to contain
just one charge. It was ancient. There was no guarantee it would
work at all.

Iqbal, unseen by the man who had now spied Runmust, rotated the
handgrip trigger on that piece of bamboo.

An intense yellow ball slammed right through the
Protector's man and rattled around in the brush behind him.
In seconds a dozen fires were burning.

Runmust and Iqbal ran. No point doing anything else now.

They had almost reached the gully hiding the animals and
prisoners when a random arrow found the unprotected meat of
Runmust's right thigh. Singh flung forward in an uncontrolled
dive. His beard protected his face as he ploughed through the brush
but he left large tufts behind. He squealed with the unexpected
pain.

Iqbal stopped to help.

"Get out of here!" Runmust growled. "You have
Suruvhija and the children." Which moved Iqbal not at
all.

The Taglian troops blundered down the hillside, scattered, in no
order, without discipline or thought. Officers, sergeants and men,
they had no practical experience and very little training. They had
come out of the Nijha fortress because Soulcatcher had told them
they might achieve a startling triumph. But once the situation on
the ground deviated from their expectations they were lost.

Stumbling, dragging the leg with the arrow still embedded,
Runmust clung to and leaned on Iqbal. Both men heard the exultant
Taglian soldiers plunging through the brush behind them, swiftly
bringing the inevitable.

The rangers were men chosen from those who had seen prior action
serving the warlords in Hsien and who both understood Company
doctrine and accepted it. They set an ambush of their own. The
Taglians came to it as though guided by maleficent demons.

The result was a bloodbath. It was a tactical triumph for the
Black Company. It was not unalloyed by bad news. In the end, in the
heat of the moment, the rangers did fail to acknowledge doctrine.
They did not fade away while the Taglians were confused and
panicky. They maintained contact in hopes of making sure Runmust
and Iqbal escaped.

The Singh brothers did survive. But when the light cavalry,
flung forward by Sleepy right after she recognized the fireball
signal, arrived they found most of the rangers wounded or dead
after having been overrun. The horsemen pursued the fleeing
Taglians. They cut down most of the enemy wounded and
stragglers.

Sadly, they failed to recapture the Daughter of Night.

A particularly bright Taglian officer had recognized what he had
stumbled across and got the girl moving to the rear immediately.
Her grub-colored skin had given her away.

When that day's sun set it was a tossup which side would
consider the encounter the greater disaster. The Company had lost a
huge treasure and some of its most valuable men, at least for a
while. The Taglians had endured a huge massacre with only one
sullen, if exotically beautiful, pale, dirty young woman to show
for all the deaths.


Chapter 42 

The Nether Taglian Territories: After
Battle

The Captain
herself reached the scene of the fighting just an hour after its
end. She stomped around. She nagged the survivors with questions.
Most of the rangers had survived but only two had managed without
suffering serious wounds. Sleepy interrogated prisoners even more
emphatically. The cavalrymen had retained sense enough to capture a
few Taglians who offered to surrender, presuming they would
continue to cooperate to save their skins.

None of the prisoners knew anything about the Daughter of Night.
None even knew that name.

The Captain's prowling took her near Narayan Singh. She
kicked the old cripple. "Hellspawn." She turned,
bellowed, "Why didn't we know about this ambush ahead
of time?"

Some bold soul told her the truth. "The Unknown Shadows
probably did know. But nobody asked them. Tobo is the only one who
knows how to talk to them the way it takes to get them to do the
kind of spying you want."

Sleepy growled. She kicked Narayan Singh again. She paced.
"What do we know about this fort?"

Blade came forward. He would save the others. Sleepy's
wrath fell less heavily upon him. Usually. Some thought she was a
little afraid of Blade. In fact, she was just not sure of him,
though he had been around longer than she had. Like
Swan and Sahra, he was not actually a sworn brother of the
Company. But he was always there and always involved.

Blade said, "The old Captain established it. It was a
remount station for the first courier post. The wall got added
because the natives kept trying to steal the horses. Soulcatcher
eventually expanded the fort and garrison during the Kiaulune wars
because she wanted a stronger presence here in case her enemies
tried to sneak north this way. Assuming she did here the way she
did everywhere else, she forgot the place as soon as the fighting
was over. The garrison might be a hundred fifty or two hundred.
Plus hangers-on."

"Pretty big gang for out here."

"It's a big territory. And half of them are out of
business now."

"What're the fortifications like?"

"I've never been there. I hear they're barely
good enough to stop horse thieves. Which means not real impressive.
Some kind of rock wall, since that's the available material
around here. I've heard there's a ditch that was never
completed. Didn't you come this way when you ran south?
Didn't you see it?"

"We took a trail west of here. The old trade road. We
avoided the courier routes."

"You might send some cavalry to surround the place before
they can move the girl out."

Sleepy mused, "It's probably too late to stop them
yelling for help."

Blade said, "I don't think you need to worry about
sneaking. By now Soulcatcher's got the whole Taglian empire
alerted."

Sleepy grunted. Then she sent for cavalry officers. And after
she sent them off she visited Runmust and Iqbal. Those two had been
close friends for two decades. She asked Iqbal's wife,
Suruvhija, "What did the surgeon say?"

"They'll recover. They're Shadar.
They're strong men. They fought well. God will watch over
them."

Sleepy glanced at Sahra, who was helping tend the wounded. Sahra
nodded, meaning Suruvhija was not just wishful thinking.

"I'll include them in my prayers as well."
Sleepy squeezed Suruvhija's shoulder reassuringly, thinking
the woman was too perfect to be real. At least as men saw wives.
But she was Shadar, too, and she believed, and the roles of all
members of the family were clearly defined by her religion.

Sleepy took time to talk to Iqbal's children, too. They
were bearing up bravely. As they would, for they were good Shadar,
too, despite the strange lands and societies they had seen.

When she was around Iqbal's children, Sleepy sometimes
even vaguely regretted having abandoned the woman's role. But
that never lasted more than a few seconds.

"Blade. Pass the word. I want the whole gang up to this
fort before sunset. If that's possible. Once they see some
numbers I'm sure they'll give up."

Blade told her, "You know you have to stop before long.
The animals need time to graze and recover. And we have a tail of
stragglers that has to stretch all the way back to
Charandaprash."

People got hurt or sick or just could not keep up. It irked
Sleepy but it was a fact of life. Her strength was down maybe a
thousand men already. That would worsen rapidly if she continued to
drive hard.

"When they get here the most worn-out ones can take over
as our garrison." That was a tactic as old as soldiering.

She would not admit it but she needed a rest herself. She could
not imagine when she would get one, though.


Chapter 43 

The Taglian Shadowlands: The Shadowgate

Seem like
there's much point dragging my weary ass over there?" I
asked Lady. There was just enough dawn-light to show the vague
outline of the slope leading up to the shadowgate. Which was still
miles and miles from where we had spent the night. This part of the
journey was one of those where you spend the whole day trying not
to look ahead because every time you do it seems you have not
gotten ten feet closer. Way to our left a smoky haze concealed the
New City and the lower half of ruined Overlook. A lot of unpleasant
memories connected us with those places.

"What do you mean?" My sweetheart was as tired and
morning-cranky as I was. And her bones were a lot older than
mine.

"Well, we didn't get killed last night. That means
the gate hasn't collapsed yet. Old Longshadow's still
holding out."

"Evidently."

"Wouldn't that mean Tobo's got everything
under control? So why beat ourselves up getting on over
there?"

Lady smirked at me. She did not have to tell me. We would cross
the valley because, in the end, I would want to see everything for
myself. Because I would want to get it all into the Annals, right.
She had chided me fifty times during the ride south because I was
trying to work out a way to write on horseback. I could get so much
more done if I could do it while we were traveling.

Then she chirped, "You are getting old."

"What?"

"A sign of advancing age. You start obsessing about how
much you have to get done in the time that you have
left."

I made noises in the back of my throat but did not argue.
That kind of thinking was familiar. So was being unable to fall
asleep because I was tracking my heartbeat, trying to tell if
something was wrong.

You would think a guy in my line of work would make his peace
with death at an early age.

We ran into several locals while crossing the valley, the bottom
land of which was decent farmland and pasture. We did not receive
one friendly greeting. I did not see one welcoming smile. Nobody
raised a hand in defiance but I had no trouble feeling the abiding
resentment of a tormented nation. There had been no serious
fighting in these parts for years but the adult population were all
survivors of the terrible times, whether they were natives or
immigrants who had come in to settle the depopulated lands and to
escape even worse horrors elsewhere. They did not want the evils of
the past to return.

This land had suffered grotesquely under the Shadowmaster
Longshadow. It had continued to suffer after his defeat. The
Kiaulune wars devoured most everything that Longshadow and the
Shadowmaster wars had not. And now the Black Company had returned.
Out of the place of glittering stone, an abode of devils. The
season of despair appeared to be threatening again.

"Can't say I blame them," I told Lady.

"What?"

I explained.

"Oh." Indifferently. Some attitudes never wither.
She had been a powerful lord a lot longer than she had been just
another tick on the underbelly of the world. Compassion is not one
of the qualities that endeared her to me.

We found Tobo impatient with our dawdling. "I see the old
gal's still here," I said of the shadowgate. Lady and I
produced our keys and let the crew cross over, Murgen first so he
could make sure his boy still had all his arms and legs and fingers
and toes.

"It is," the wonder child confessed. "But
probably only because Longshadow still hasn't left the
plain."

"What?" Lady was irritated. "We made promises.
We owe the Children of the Dead."

"We do," Tobo said. "But we won't be
allowed to kill ourselves. Shivetya knew we forgot to disarm
Longshadow's booby trap so he kept Longshadow from
leaving."

"How do you know that?"

"I sent messengers. That was the news they brought
back."

Lady's mood had not improved. "The File of Nine will
be smoking. We don't need them as enemies. We may have to
flee to the Land of Unknown Shadows again."

"Shivetya will release Longshadow the second we finish
refurbishing our gate."

My companions were nervous. Willow Swan was pale, sweating,
dancing with anxiety and, most of all, un-Swanlike, silent. He had
not, in fact, spoken all day.

Thinking about the shadows can do that to you if you have
witnessed one of their attacks.

Tobo asked, "You two ready to go to work?"

I shook my head. "Are you kidding?"

Lady said, "No."

Tobo told us, "I can't finish this alone."

I replied, "And you can't finish it with assistants
so tired they're guaranteed to make mistakes. I have a
premonition. Longshadow will keep till tomorrow."

Tobo admitted that he would. Shivetya would see to it. But he
did so with poor grace.

Lady said, "Let's go set up camp." Murgen,
Swan and the others probably should have been doing that instead of
standing around being anxious.

Once we crossed the barrier Lady wondered, "Why is Tobo in
such a hurry?"

I snickered. "I think it might have to do with Booboo. He
hasn't seen her for a long time. Sleepy says he was
completely smitten."

While I spoke her expression transformed from curious to
completely appalled. "I'd hope not."

Murgen suggested, "There were two rather attractive
Voroshk girls. One of them might have something to do with
it."


Chapter 44 

The Shadowlands: Gate Repairs

The dreamwalkers
came during the night. Their presence was so powerful that even
Swan, Panda Man and Spook saw them. I heard them speak clearly
although I never understood a word.

Lady and Tobo did get something out of them.

They put their heads together over breakfast. They decided that
the Nef wanted to warn us about something.

"You think so?" I sneered. "There's a
new interpretation."

"Hey!" Tobo chided me. "It has something to do
with Khatovar."

"Like what, for example?"

The youth shrugged. "Your guess is better than mine.
I've never been there."

"Last time we saw the dreamwalkers they were headed out
into Khatovar in the middle of all the shadows on the plain. You
think they saw something they think we ought to know?"

"Absolutely. Any idea what?"

Lady asked, "Have you had your Unknown Shadow friends try
to talk to the Nef?"

"I have. It doesn't work. The Nef don't
communicate with the plain shadows, either."

"Then what was the Unknown Shadows' problem last
night? The Black Hounds kept carrying on so bad they woke me up
several times."

"Really?" Tobo was puzzled. "I never
noticed."

Nor did I. But I am deaf and blind to most supernatural stuff.
Plus, for once, I had not been tossing around listening for my
heart to stop.

"Let's get to work."

"Booboo isn't going anywhere, kid."

Tobo frowned. Then got it. He did not become embarrassed or
defensive. "Oh? Oh. You don't know? She's already
gone. There was a fight with the garrison from Nijha.
Runmust's troop got overrun. The Taglians captured the
Daughter of Night. Sleepy has cavalry trying to run them down
now."

I shook my head and grumped, "It won't do her any
good. A million horsemen won't be enough now."

"Aren't you pessimistic."

"He's right," Lady opined. She lapsed into an
old northern language I had not heard since I was young and which I
never had understood completely. She seemed to be reciting a song
as a poem. It had a refrain that went something like, "Thus
do the Fates conspire."

We were on the inside of the shadowgate, hard at it. Tobo was
making tiny, elegant adjustments to the strands and layers of magic
that made up the mystic portal. The training I had received had
elevated me to the level of a semiskilled bricklayer. Compared to
me Tobo was the sort of master artisan who created panoramic
tapestries by weaving them instead of embroidering them. I was
nothing but the lead finger man on the bow-tying team.

Even Lady was little more than a hodcarrier on this job. But
hodcarriers are needed, too.

"Thanks for the compliment," Tobo said after I tried
out my similes. "But I'm mostly doing embroidery and
plain old-fashioned knot tying on broken threads. Parts of this
tapestry were plain outright crippled. It'll never be
completely right, even if it's stronger than when it
started."

"But you can weasel Longshadow's booby trap out of
there?"

"It's kind of like lancing a boil and cleaning it
out, but yes. He actually made a pretty crude job of it. Obviously,
he didn't know much about shadowgates. He did know that there
was no one in our world who knew more. What he didn't
understand was that there were more keys."

"Of course he knew," I said. "That's why
he sent Ashutosh Yaksha, his apprentice, to infiltrate the Nyueng
Bao priests at the temple of Ghanghesha."

Tobo looked puzzled, like he did not recall that story.

"He knew they had a key there and he wanted it. So he
could get back to Hsien. If you don't know that story
you'd better corner your uncle. Because that's what he
told Sleepy."

Tobo smiled weakly. "Well, maybe. I suppose."

"What do you mean, you suppose?"

Lady paused what she was doing. "Don't play
Doj's games, Tobo. You won't be fooling anybody. I was
there. Inside the white crow. I know what the man said."

"That's probably it. Doj told Sleepy a bunch of
stories. Some were probably true but some he probably made up.
Stuff he thought might be true because it sounded plausible based
on what he did know. Master Santaraksita spent years searching the
records at Khang Phi. The history of our world's Nyueng Bao
isn't much like what Doj might've wanted you to
believe."

"Which was it?" I mused aloud. "Was he lying
or making it up?" I have known plenty of people who would not
admit ignorance even in the most obvious circumstance.

Tobo said, "Master Santaraksita says our ancestors left
Hsien as fugitives, sneaking out like snakes using a secretly
manufactured key. They were trying to get away from the
Shadowmasters. There was supposed to be a regular, gradual
evacuation across the plain. Because they were persecuted followers
of Khadi they did favor the organizational structure we've
seen in other bands of believers but those people weren't
mercenaries and they weren't missionaries. They weren't
a Free Company. They weren't a band of Stranglers. They were
just running away because the Shadowmasters insisted they had to
give up their religion. Master Santaraksita says their priests
probably made up a more dramatic history after they'd been
settled in the river delta for a while. After several generations
spent wandering. Before they arrived the only people in the swamp
were Taglian fugitives and criminals and a few remote descendants
of the Deceivers Rhaydreynek tried to wipe out. Maybe the Nyueng
Bao wanted to impress them."

Tobo's hands never stopped moving while he talked. But
their movements had nothing to do with what he was saying. He was
mending things that I could not see.

"How much did Doj lie?" I was determined to pin that
on him. I never did trust that old man.

"That's the intriguing part. I don't know. I
don't think he really knows. He did tell me that a lot of
what he told Sleepy originally he said just because it sounded
believable and like something she wanted to hear. When you get
right down to it, except for his skill with Ash Wand, Uncle Doj is
a bigger fraud than most priests. Most priests actually believe
what they preach."

Lady said, "Sounds like he's spent time hanging
around with Blade."

Tobo continued, "The key my ancestors used to cross the
plain was created secretly in Khang Phi. It went back to Hsien so
the next group of fugitives could use it. They never got the
chance."

"But they had the golden pick." Which was the key
that Sleepy eventually found and used to get onto the plain so she
could release us Captured from underneath Shivetya's
fortress.

"That must have been the key that belonged to the
Deceivers who hid the Books of the Dead back in
Rhaydreynek's time. They must've hidden the pickax
under the temple of Ghanghesha. The temple has a long history. It
started out as a Janaka shrine. The Gunni took over and used it as
a retreat. Then the survivors of Rhaydreynek's pogrom chased
the Gunni out. But they faded away. Nyueng Bao folklore talks about
bitter fighting over doctrine in the early days. A century later
Gunni holy men from the cult of Ghanghesha began to come back to
the swamp. Eventually most Nyueng Bao forgot Khadi and adopted
Ghanghesha. A few generations back the pick turned up when the
temple was being repaired. Somebody realized that it had to be an
important relic. It wasn't till more recent times, when
Longshadow, and later Soulcatcher, found out about it, that anyone
realized how important it had to be."

"What about the pilgrimages?"

"Originally people from Hsien were supposed to meet our
people at the shadowgate with news from home and more refugees. But
the Shadowmasters found out. Plus on this side my ancestors lost
touch with the past. Contrary to legend, and unlike the way things
are now, there wasn't that much pressure from outside.
Hanging on to old ways and old ideas wasn't that important a
way to maintain the identity of the Nyueng Bao.

"Whatever Doj says, most Nyueng Bao aren't devoted
to tradition and keeping the old ways. Most don't remember
anything anymore. You saw that while we were in Hsien. The Nyueng
Bao aren't anything like those people over there."

Lady and I exchanged looks. Neither of us assumed Tobo was
telling any more of the truth than Doj ever had. Though the boy was
not necessarily lying consciously. I glanced at Thai Dei. He gave
nothing away.

I said, "I've been wondering why Doj never found any
Path of the Sword guys over there."

"That's easy. The Shadowmasters wiped them out. They
were the warrior caste. They kept fighting till there weren't
any of them left."

I had, for years, wondered why a sword-worshipping cult would be
part of a people descended from a band of worshippers of Kina, who,
in my world, did not believe in shedding blood. I still did not
know. But now I knew that nobody else was likely to know,
either.

I told Lady, "I'm surprised Sleepy never picked up
on the fact that the supposed priest of this Nyueng Bao band went
around carving people into steaks."

"Deceiver people at that," she added. "He
slaughtered them by the score at Charandaprash."

Tobo is a clever young man. He understood that we did not find
his version of history more convincing than Doj's.

I still was not sure whether he believed what he was saying.

It did not matter.

Lady poked me. She whispered, "Murgen and Willow Swan have
drawn my attention to an interesting phenomenon. You'll want
to see for yourself. Tobo, drop doing what you're doing and
look at this, too."

By then I knew it would be something I did not want to see. Thai
Dei, Murgen and the others were debating the best places to take
cover already.

I turned. Lady pointed. A trio of Voroshk flyers, appearing only
slightly larger than dots, hovered above the rim of the plain. They
were way up high and a long way away, motionless.

I asked, "Anybody want to guess how well they can see
us?"

Lady said, "They can tell we're here but
that's it. Unless they have a farseeing device."

"What're they doing?"

"Scouting around, I imagine. Now that their gate is
gone they can get onto the plain whenever they want. During the day
they're safe as long as they stay off the ground. And they
probably won't have much trouble with shadows even at night
if they stay high up. We've never seen shadows go higher than
ten or fifteen feet above the surface of the shielding."

"Think they're looking for us? Or are they just
looking?"

"Both, probably. They'll want revenge. And maybe
even a safe new world."

The Voroshk did not move while we were talking. I pictured
similar trios ranging to all points of the plain, perhaps hoping
they could open the way without us. "Tobo, can they get off
of the plain?"

"I don't know. They won't be able to here. Not
without one of my keys. I'll install something that'll
kill them if they try."

I admired his confidence. "Suppose they have somebody as
slick as you are? What's to keep him from undoing your spells
the way you're undoing Longshadow's?"

"Lack of training. Lack of the knowledge we got out of
Khang Phi. You have to know a little about these things to redo
them."

Lady asked, "Can they break through the gateway into
Hsien?" The knowledge was there.

"I don't know. They got the forvalaka through. Maybe
they could shove their own people through on a slow, one-at-a-time
basis. They never tried before. But they've never been
desperate before. And time isn't on their side."

"What about Shivetya? What's his take on
this?"

"I'll find out. I'll send a messenger in just
a minute."

One of the soldiers from Hsien--Panda Man, I think--asked,
"What about the men with Longshadow? If he hasn't left
the plain. One is my cousin."

Tobo drew a long, deep breath. "My work is never
done."

Lady said, "If you're going to do something
you'd better do it fast. They have a key. It's at
risk."

"Damn! You're right. Captain, I'm going to
borrow your ravens. Lady, lean out the gate and yell for Big Ears
and Cat Sith. They'll hear you. Tell them I want them.
It's an emergency."

"One damned thing after another," I grumbled.
"It never lets up."

"But you're alive," Swan said.

"Don't you be jumping around on the other side of
your own argument." We amused ourselves with some
good-natured bickering while Tobo sent supernatural messengers off
to Shivetya, the guards at the Hsien shadowgate,
Longshadow's keepers, and our folks up north.

Along the way Murgen asked his son, "What's to keep
those jokers up there from just flying off the plain? I remember
times when crows came and went." And he used to do so
himself, all the time.

"They could do that because they come from our world.
Crows from any other world we wouldn't have seen at all. Even
if they were there. Yes. The Voroshk can fly out any time they
want. But when they do they'll end up in Khatovar. Every
time. If they want to get off the plain into another world
they'll have to come onto it through their shadowgate and
leave it through another shadowgate. Shivetya restructured it that
way."

It can be confusing. I guess that happens where realities
overlap, with a deathless demigod in the middle who feels compelled
to make it hard for the human species to realize its darkest
potential.


Chapter 45 

Nijha: The Stronghold Falls

There were fewer
than fifty soldiers to hold Nijha's walls, most of them
injured already and all of them thoroughly terrified after having
endured a night overrun by the Unknown Shadows.

The defenders were accorded the honors of war and allowed to
march out without their weapons, taking their families and what
possessions they could carry. They were admonished to clear the
road whenever the Black Company passed.


If the Nijha stronghold had surrendered any faster Sleepy would
have worried that she was walking into a trap. As it was, she did
send Doj in first to make sure Soulcatcher had left her no special
little gifts.

She had not.

"Put Narayan somewhere where he can't embarrass
me," Sleepy ordered after the stronghold had been declared
secure. "I'll decide what to do with him in a day or
two." She would have preferred handing him over to Lady and
Croaker right away. "Battalion, regiment, and brigade
commanders and all senior staff are to assemble in the local
headquarters building in one hour."

Sahra asked, "You think there'll be room? I really
thought this place would be bigger."

"So did I. Even though we knew it was a glorified remount
station. Gosh, I wish Tobo was here instead of down
there."

"So do I." Sahra hated having her whole family so
far away. She had become accustomed to having a real family again
during our years in Hsien. "I've been thinking.
Wouldn't it be reasonable to keep Tobo and Murgen from going
to the same dangerous places?"

"Like the shadowgate?"

"Like that. Or anywhere else where one bad blow could take
them both away."

Sleepy understood Sahra's agony. Sahra had lost two
children and one husband to malignant fortune already. The husband
did not trouble her much. His removal had improved her life. But
rare is the mother who will not ache forever over the loss of her
little ones.

All part of the wondrous cruel experience of the siege of
Jaicur, or Dejagore, that has twisted so many members of the
Company and burdened them with vulnerabilities and obsessions that
will shape their minds and souls for as long as they survive.

"That's a good idea," Sleepy said.
"Although you can count on getting resistance from the men.
Can you imagine Runmust and Iqbal being willing to go anywhere
where they're not elbow to elbow with each other?"

Sahra sighed. She shook her head slowly. "If the Gunni are
right about the Wheel of Life then I must have been something more
wicked than a Shadowmaster in a previous life. This one never stops
punishing me."

"Let me tell you, it's harder being Vehdna. You
don't have other lives to blame it on. You just go crazy
trying to figure out why God is so angry with you in this
one."

Sahra nodded. The moment had passed. She was in control again.
"You'd think I would've made my peace with this
life by now, wouldn't you?"

Sleepy thought that she had, about as well as she could, but did
not say so. She did not want to push Sahra back onto the path of
self-examination. That could get tiresome fast.

"We have a major staff meeting. I want your help. I want
you to think in broader terms. I'm rethinking my strategy.
The distances are turning out to be too great for a headlong rush.
We're getting weaker fast while our enemies are getting
stronger. I want your thoughts on different approaches."

"I'll be all right. I have to have these spells once
in a while just to get by."


Chapter 46 

Nijha: The Darkness Always Comes

Darkness came to
Nijha. With it came an almost supernatural silence. Within the
crude walls the senior commanders were clustered with Sleepy and
Sahra. Outside, the soldiers were cooking, repairing harnesses and
equipment, or, mainly, just sleeping the sleep of the exhausted. A
night's rest was never enough to recover fully from a hard
day's march. Weariness accumulated, and more so when a force
covered a lot of miles in a hurry.

For the first time since his liberation Goblin found himself
unsupervised, overlooked, forgotten. He did not trust his
observations for a while. These were sneaky people. Possibly they
were testing him.

Eventually it became evident that he really was running free,
unmonitored. This was early in the game and way remote but no
better opportunity was ever likely to arise.

Narayan stirred warily, though his despair was such that he
could generate little concern about his own continued well-being.
Already he had been separated farther, if not longer, from the
Daughter of Night than ever before since her birth. If he lost her
there would be no reason to go on. It would be time to go home to
Kina. There would be nothing more he could do. And there was little
chance he would get any opportunity ever again, anyway. He was
alive now only because these people were saving him as a plaything
for the girl's birth parents. Again.

His days and hours were numbered and once again his faith was
being tested sorely.

He heard a faint, breathy sound that seemed vaguely familiar.
And it should be, he thought. His heart began to hammer. That was a
Deceiver recognition sign meant for use in darkness exactly like
this, where the usual hand signals would not work. He murmured
countersigns. The effort set off a coughing fit.

The exchange continued until Narayan was satisfied that he had
been located by a religious brother. He asked, "Why have you
come? It won't be possible to rescue me." He used the
secret Deceiver cant, which amounted to the final test. It would,
at least, advise him of the status of his visitor. Not many recent
converts were yet that advanced in their studies.

"The Goddess herself has sent me to relay her love and her
esteem and her appreciation of all your sacrifices. She bid me to
assure you that your rewards will be great. She wants you to
understand that her resurrection is nearer than any nonbeliever
suspects. She wants you to know that your efforts and your trials
and your steadfast faith have made the difference. She wants you to
know that her enemies soon will be overwhelmed and devoured. She
wants you to know that she's watching over you and that
you'll stand at her side when we celebrate the Year of the
Skulls. She wants you to know that of all those who have ever
served her, even of her many saints, you were her most
favored."


Chapter 47 

The Shadowgate: The Repairmen

The encampment
below the shadowgate became the hub of a flood of Unknown Shadow
traffic as Tobo tried to head off the Voroshk threat. He remained
especially worried about Longshadow's keepers till Shivetya
somehow assured him that they were invisible to Voroshk eyes.

"Do you trust him?" Lady asked. She being the most
naturally paranoid of any of us at the shadowgate. "He
might try to make a better deal with the Voroshk."

"What better deal? We're going to give him what he
wants. Without trying to control him or even to get much out of
him."

"Bet he thinks we're too good to be true,
then." She was in a mood.

I asked, "What happened to the golden pickax? The Deceiver
key to the shadowgates."

After a pause to make up his mind about what to admit, Tobo
said, "I left it with Shivetya. We may need it again. When
it's time to kill Kina. I couldn't think of any other
place where it would be safer from her followers." He was
troubled as he looked the rest of us over. He was thinking he
should have kept that to himself. The golden pickax was an
extremely holy Strangler relic that could also be used to help set
Kina free.

He was afraid that at least one of us was sure to tell somebody
what we had just heard.

It was a long night followed by what promised to be a longer
day.

For the uninvolved members of the band these were trying times.
There was nothing for them to do but play cards and wonder if the
people of the New City would be crazy enough to attack us.

Panda Man and Spook mostly watched the game. They did not do
well when they played. Tonk is one of the simplest games ever
invented, rules-wise, but a huge part of it is the table talk that
goes along with the actual picking up, discarding and laying down
of cards. A group accustomed to one another is an entirely
different animal from one where the players barely speak the same
language. Wherever the Company stops for fifteen minutes a tonk
game soon develops. The tradition began ages before my time. It
will persist long after I am gone.

Gone. I tried to imagine what life might have been like had I
left the Company sometime in the past. My imagination was not up to
the task. I confess. I do not have the strength of personality to
abandon everything I know, even when all that is just a meandering,
unhappy path that, too often, wanders through the outlying marches
of hell.

I was a zombie most of the day, carrying that hod for my young
bricklayer while most of me was elsewhere, boldly adventuring
across those fields of might-have-been.

Sometime late in the afternoon I told Lady, "I probably
should tell you this more often. I love you and I'm glad Fate
conspired to bring our lives together."

I stunned her into silence. I know Swan and Murgen gaped and
spent some time trying to figure out if I thought I was dying.

The Voroshk had not overlooked us. They were cautious. They
showed themselves briefly several times during the day. Their
customary arrogance seemed in abeyance.

Once I left my own preoccupations behind I asked Tobo,
"What do you suppose they're up to?" We had
talked about it before but I am never entirely comfortable taking a
sorcerer's motives at face value.

"Looking for hope. Or anything that will give them an
edge. I expect that, right now, their world is more like hell than
almost anything any priest ever imagined. Most of the surviving
shadows from the plain must be running loose there. One family of
sorcerers, however wonderful their weapons, just has no chance to
stop what's happening. Not before the devastation reaches the
scale of an end of the world catastrophe."

Once upon a time I might have felt bad for the Voroshk and the
people of Khatovar. This time when I examined my soul I found not
much more than indifference within me.

"How much longer before you've finished making all
your modifications?" Lady demanded. She was anxious to head
north. From oblique remarks I gathered that she wanted to rejoin
the main force before disaster struck it. What she could do to
avert a disaster was beyond me. She did not have enough magic
currently to start a fire without adding flint and steel to the
mix.

'Ten minutes, tops," Tobo replied.
"There's this one last braided strand that needs
reweaving and we'll have us not just a completely healthy
shadowgate, it'll be the toughest there ever was. Tough
enough that what happened to the Khatovar gate can't happen
here. In fact, it's already all those things. What this spell
rope is going to do is create a little pocket of darkness
that's invisible from outside so killer shadows can be turned
into invisible sentries. They'll be there ready to jump out
at anybody who tries to get through who isn't already
approved by us or Shivetya."

"Neat," I said. Lady scowled. She was determined to
believe that we were placing too much trust in the golem.

She seemed unable to recognize that trust was not a large part
of this equation.

She said, "We're going to have company in a
minute."

I looked up. Two Voroshk sorcerers were coming down the slope,
following the old road, inside what would have been protection if
they had not blown up their own shadowgate. A third post-rider
remained a dot above the horizon, a remote witness. I asked,
"You think they did more damage getting through the barrier
and onto the road?"

After only a glance, Tobo said, "No. I think they came in
the far end and flew here, following the roads. The other one paced
them from above."

Admirable stupidity, I thought. The two at ground level had no
chance of getting back out before dark. Did they think we would
protect them from the night? If so they were huge daydreamers.

The Voroshk dismounted a hundred yards away. They walked toward
us like walking was a foreign experience. Riding the flying
fencepost had to be a huge status symbol back in Khatovar. So huge,
walking was never done where your inferiors could see you.

"How long now?" Lady asked Tobo.

"Fifteen seconds. After that I'll fake it for a bit.
Then we all step back through the gate. Are Dad and the others
alert?"

Alert was not strong enough a word. A variety of missile weapons
were ready. So was one fireball projector but it would not see use
while the Voroshk remained on the plain side. The barriers could be
damaged by fireballs. Arrows and crossbow bolts, however, could
pass through and the wounds they made would heal in moments.

Not that arrows were likely to accomplish much against these
chunky old men.

They did seem overweight. They projected an aura of fatness
behind the constant stirring of their black cloaks.

"There. I think that should do it," Tobo said.

Click. Click. Click. That swiftly we three backed through the
shadowgate into our own world. Tobo sealed the way. We waited. The
kid said, "One of these will be the father of our two
troublemakers."

Probably. The Voroshk did appear interested in communicating.
They knew someone on our side spoke the language of the
forvalaka.

Their luck was in. Of all the Black Company people who could
have been there with Tobo they got me and Lady.

They would get no happiness out of that, though. Their kind
rubbed me the wrong way. I would make nothing easy for them.


Chapter 48 

The Shadowgate: The Warlords of the Air

These Voroshk, who
actually introduced themselves--as Nashun the Researcher and the
First Father--both spoke the language of Juniper. Nashun the
Researcher had by far the best command. Neither had social skills
of a sort likely to put a smile on the face of many mothers. It was
clear that the demonstration of manners toward persons outside the
family was an exercise with which they had little familiarity.

After the introductions I stated the obvious. "You people
sure got yourselves into big trouble."

You could feel the Voroshk closing their eyes and sighing inside
all that black material.

"We will survive," the boss Voroshk declared. He
strained to keep anger and arrogance out of his voice. He had less
success with confidence, which made me wonder if he did not really
mean it.

"No doubt. What I saw of your family's capabilities
impressed me. But honestly, you realize that your family's
survival will require more than just fending off the
shadows."

Nashun made a dismissive gesture with one gloved hand. "We
come to you because we want our children back."

He spoke clearly and slowly enough that Lady caught that. She
made a surprised little noise that might have been half a
laugh.

"You're out of luck. They may prove useful. Nor have
we any incentive to give them back."

Their anger seemed a palpable force.

Tobo felt it. He said, "Warn them that any power they use
to try to break through will bounce back at them. Tell them that
the harder they try the worse they'll get hurt."

I translated. Our visitors were not impressed by anything a boy
said. Neither did they experiment. They did recall events at their
own shadowgate. The Researcher said, "We are prepared to make
an exchange."

"What do you have to trade?"

"You still have people on this plain."

"Go for it. They're covered. When the dust settles
you'll be picking up dead family members." Of that I
was confident. Because Tobo trusted Shivetya completely.
"You're powerful but ignorant. Like an ox. You
don't know the plain. It's alive. It's our
ally."

Smoke should have rolled out of their ears. Goblin sometimes did
that in the old days. But these men had no sense of humor.

Their desperation overcame their anger.

"Explain," Nashun hissed.

"You know nothing about the plain but you're
arrogant enough to believe that your power will be supreme there.
In a realm of the gods. Evidently you don't even know your
own world's history. The people you're facing, that you
believe you can threaten, are spiritual descendants of soldiers
sent out from Khatovar five hundred years ago."

"What happened before the Voroshk does not signify.
However, you demonstrate ignorance of your own."

"It is of consequence. You want something from the last
Free Company of Khatovar. And you don't have anything to
offer in exchange. Except, possibly, that disdained history and a
little contemporary knowledge."

Neither man commented.

Lady told me, "Ask them why they want these kids back so
bad. They're safe over here."

I asked.

"They are family," the First Father said.

His voice had a quality which made that seem not only plausible
but possibly even true.

I said, "They're a long way away. They've been
travelling northward steadily since they arrived. One is deathly
ill."

"They have their rheitgeistiden. They can get down here in
a few hours."

"I think this guy is for real," I told Lady.
"He's really got some mad-ass notion that I'd
give those kids their toys and turn them loose, just on his say-so.
They sure don't have to work to survive in
Khatovar."

The Researcher picked up the one word. "I mentioned your
ignorance. Listen, Outsider. Khatovar is not our world. Khatovar
was one city of darkness, where damned souls worshipped a Goddess
of the night. That evil city was expunged from the earth before the
Voroshk arose. Its people were hunted down and exterminated. They
have been forgotten. And they will remain forgotten. Never will any
Soldier of Darkness be permitted to return."

Once upon a time, on a lazy day, ages before he had become the
vessel he was now, Goblin had told me that I would never get to
Khatovar. Never. It would forever remain just beyond the horizon. I
could get closer and closer and closer but I would never arrive. So
I had imagined I had set foot in Khatovar. But I had only been to
the world where Khatovar had existed once upon a time.

"Time itself has evened the score. That which Khatovar
sent out came back. And the world that killed Khatovar will
die."

"Did you catch that?" Lady asked.

"Huh? Catch what?"

"He used the world evil. We don't hear that much in
this part of the world. People don't believe in
it."

"These guys aren't from this part of the
world." I returned to the language of Juniper. "Given a
complete, working breakdown on the construction and operation of
your flying logs, and of the material from which your clothing is
made, I'd say we could give you what you want."

Lady did her best to keep the others up-to-date on what was
being said. She did not always get it right.

Nashun the Researcher could not grasp the enormity of my demand.
He tried speaking three different times, failed, finally turned to
the First Father in mute appeal. I was sure his hidden face was
taut with despair.

I told my guys, "It might be wise to back away from the
shadowgate. These people are about out of patience."

I felt wonderfully wicked. I always do when I frustrate overly
powerful, responsible-to-no-one types who think all existence was
created only for their pleasure and exploitation.

I told the Voroshk, "It'll be dark soon. Then the
shadows will come out." And, as the Voroshk exchanged
glances, I borrowed from Narayan Singh. "When dealing with
the Black Company you would do well to remember: Darkness always
comes."

Lady's expression was one of less than one hundred percent
approval when I turned away. "That could've gone
better."

"I let my feelings intrude. I should know better. But talk
wasn't going to get us anywhere, anyway. They think too much
of themselves and too little of everyone else."

"Then you're giving up the dream of returning to
Khatovar."

The Voroshk made their first furious attempt to bust through the
shadowgate.

I did warn them.

They did not want to listen.

It was worse than I had imagined it could be.

It was worse than Tobo had predicted.

The countermagical blast hurled both sorcerers all the way up
the slope to the edge of the plain, bouncing and tumbling all the
way. By some miracle neither broke the barrier protecting the road.
Maybe Shivetya was watching over then.

One still had shown no sign of recovering when I gave up
watching. I told Tobo, "I reckon it's time to go, now.
Those guys might have gotten the message this time."

I did not look back. The trials the Voroshk faced left me
confident that they would never become a problem to my world.

As we descended the hill I asked, "Anybody think there
might be a connection between the Shadowmasters and the Voroshk?
They seem to have gotten their start about the right time. And the
Shadowmasters tried to sever all connections with the past in
Hsien. It was just too big a job. I wonder what we'd find out
if we talked to some ordinary farming stiff over there?"

"I can ask Shivetya," Tobo said. "And the
prisoners." But he did not sound particularly motivated.


Chapter 49 

Nijha: Place of the Dead

Sahra kept calling
for more torches. As though bringing in enough light would nullify
the disaster. By the time the Captain arrived there were fifty
torches, lamps and lanterns illuminating what had been a stable
before the Company arrived.

"Strangled?" Sleepy asked.

"Strangled."

"I'm tempted to use the word `ironic'
but I fear there's no irony in it at all. Doj. That white
raven of Croaker's was hanging around outside. Find it. There
were little people hanging around here, some of them supposedly
watching Singh. I want to know what they saw."

Sleepy had a good idea what she would hear from the Unknown
Shadows. It would be a variation on reports she had had before. She
said, "I'll want to send the news south,
too."

Nothing happened around the Black Company without some hobyah
there to witness it. The soldiers from Hsien understood that
perfectly. They took it for granted. They tended to be
well-behaved. But someone without experience of life in Hsien would
not take the Unknown Shadows as seriously.

A minute later, Sleepy asked, "I don't suppose
anyone's seen Goblin, have they? I don't reckon anyone
knows who was supposed to be watching him?"

Riverwalker said, "He was right over there till a minute
ago."

Sleepy looked, considered, muttered, "No doubt right up to
the second I decided to consult the Unknown Shadows about what they
saw." Which would have been the same moment he would have
realized that his recent history was no mystery to anyone. The
moment when he realized that Sleepy had been paying out the
hangman's rope while seeing what she could learn.

Riverwalker asked. "Want him rounded up? In one
piece?"

"No." Not now. Not when the best wizard she had was
an old, old man whose skills, outside using a sword, were too weak
even to put hexes on people and animals. "But I
wouldn't mind knowing where he is." Doj could manage
that. The Unknown Shadows communicated with him. Sometimes. When
the mood took them. "What you do need to do right now is get
extra guards around the Voroshk. Goblin showed a lot of interest in
them while we were traveling. I don't want anything happening
to them and I don't want them wandering off." It did
not occur to her to reinforce the company responsible for the
comatose sorcerer Howler. But Fortune stood behind her there.

Goblin, it developed, had grabbed a couple of fast horses and
some loose supplies and had gotten himself out of
Nijha, headed north, all without attracting any particular
notice. Sleepy very nearly indulged in profanity when she received
the report. Someone pointed out that the little wizard always had
had that knack. Sleepy growled, 'Then somebody should have
been watching for him to take advantage of it."

Uncle Doj told her, "I can't stop him or control him
but I can make life miserable for him."

"How?"

"His horses. The Black Hounds can have a lot of fun with
them. And when he tries to lead them to
water . . . " He chuckled wickedly.

"Send them." Sleepy beckoned Sahra. "I kept
leaning both ways during the meeting. Looking for a sign.
I've just had it. We're not going to rush in anymore.
We'll move ahead slowly, into more hospitable country, and
stop somewhere where we can support ourselves without much trouble.
We'll wait till everyone catches up. And issue a call for
volunteers willing to support the Prabrindrah Drah and the
Radisha." If anyone even remembered them.

"Wait especially for my son. Yes." Sahra was angry
and unhappy but too tired to fight much. "Now that Murgen is
no longer the major tool."

"Especially for Tobo, yes. Tonight it was clear that
without Tobo we're in trouble bad."

Sahra said nothing more. She was tired of fighting a battle in
which even the men she wanted to protect refused to honor her
concern.


Chapter 50 

The Taglian Territories: The Palace

The Taglian field
army slowly assembled astride the Rock Road in lightly settled
country midway between Dejagore and the fortified crossings over
the River Main at Ghoja. Another, less powerful force, consisting
of troops from the southern provinces, assembled outside Dejagore.
And a third gathered outside Taglios itself. There seemed no reason
to suspect that the force at Dejagore should have any trouble
denying that city to a force such as that the Black Company was
bringing up. Mogaba expected his enemies to swing west once they
descended from the highlands, possibly marching as far as the
Naghir River, which they could follow north, then swing eastward
again and try to get over the Main at one of the lesser downriver
crossings. He intended to let them march and march and wear
themselves down. He intended to let them do whatever they wanted
till he slammed the door shut behind them. Once he had them north
of the Main he could build a ring around them and slowly
squeeze.

The Great General was feeling quite positive. Taglios was
restive but not rebellious. Even the most remote garrison
commanders were bringing their soldiers to the assembly points with
their units at near strength even though some harvesting would
commence in the far south before the end of the month.

Harvest season inevitably precipitated higher desertion
rates.

Best of all, the Protector was staying away. Her tinkering and
interference always made his task more difficult. And, of course,
it was always his fault when a bastardized plan fell apart.

The Great General gathered his senior staff and inner circle,
which included a dozen generals as well as Ghopal and Aridatha
Singh. He told them, "The plan appears to be coming together
perfectly. With a couple of nudges and timed withdrawals I think we
can lead them to the ford at Vehdna-Bota. I still wish we had
better communications with the Protector. But she can't find
enough crows anymore. Some plague is wiping them out. I seldom hear
from her more than once a day. And then, often as not, she'll
waste time on weather news or a flu epidemic in
Prehbehlbed." Nor were there any shadows about, nor any of
the Protector's lesser spies. Mogaba did not mention that.
Taglians were dedicated conspirators. Let them continue to think
that there might be eyes in the corners, watching.

Only his own conspiracy need go forward.

The Great General had more to preoccupy him than how to isolate
and destroy his enemy. He suspected there was a definite question
about the identity of Taglios' most dangerous foe.

Something about this incarnation of the Black Company had
Soulcatcher so concerned that she insisted on focusing all her
attention there. Something about this incarnation of the Black
Company had touched almost everyone of substance within the Taglian
empire, though news of their return had barely had time to spread
and there were no eyewitness reports available at all. All
customary enmity and internal friction seemed to be dwindling at a
time when, normally, factionalism should be exploding as old
antagonists tried to use the situation to their advantage.

And Mogaba had found that he was thinking less and less about
the practicalities of eliminating the Protector, more and more
obsessively about destroying the Black Company. Not just defeating
them but obliterating them. To the last man, woman, child, horse,
mule, flea and louse.

After decades of unhappy fortune Mogaba was naturally wary of
everything--including his own emotional state.

He had begun keeping a personal journal the day he had made the
decision to betray Soulcatcher, to track his thoughts and emotions
during the subsequent, stressful days. It was a journal he opened
only in brilliant sunlight. It was a journal he would destroy
before actually taking action against the Protector because there
were names in it he did not want betrayed if he failed--and was
lucky enough to die before she captured him.

Lately he had noticed an evolution in his thinking about the
Company. An accelerating evolution. A frightening evolution.

He had become suspicious of his own reason.

Following a general meeting to consider policy for the empire
the Great General met with the men responsible for the capital
city.

"Kina is active again," Mogaba murmured. Ghopal and
Aridatha listened politely. He was referencing events from before
their time, that they knew only by repute. "She's doing
that thing where she gradually shapes everyone's
prejudices."

They offered him blank looks.

"Not history buffs, eh?" Mogaba explained.
"The strangest part was, nobody ever wondered why they were
terrified. They just didn't remember that three years earlier
they'd never heard of the Black Company."

Ghopal said, "What you're saying is, the Strangler
Goddess has a particular fear of the Black Company. She wants the
whole world to climb all over them and destroy them. Even if blood
has to be spilled."

"Isn't this an interesting quandary," Aridatha
said. "If we can overcome the Black Company, we'll
still have to deal with the Protector. If we knock her down, too,
then we'll still have to handle the Stranglers and Kina, in
order to prevent the Year of the Skulls. Wave after wave. No end to
it."

"No end to it," Mogaba agreed. "And I'm
getting to be quite an old man." He had begun to nurture an
outrageous notion almost as soon as he had determined that he was
being manipulated. "There are a couple of old records I want
to check. I want you both back here same time tomorrow."

The Great General did not lack courage. The next evening he led
Ghopal and Aridatha into the brightly lit room. He presented a more
convincing case for his belief that Kina had awakened, drawing
heavily upon excerpts from copies of Black Company Annals residing
in the national library.

Aridatha Singh said, "I believe you. I just wonder what
happened to wake her up again."

"Ghopal?"

"I'm not sure I understand. But I don't think
I have to. Aridatha does. I trust his wisdom."

"Then I'll talk to Aridatha. But you listen."
Mogaba chuckled.

Aridatha listened to his idea, the reasoning behind it, frowning
all the while. Ghopal seemed aghast. But he kept his mouth shut.
Aridatha went off alone with his thoughts. After a while he nodded
reluctantly and said. "I have a brother in Dejagore.
I'll find a reason to go visit. I know some people who might
listen to what you have to say if it's me doing the
talking."

"What?"

Aridatha said, "You recall a few years ago when the
Company underground here started kidnapping people? Willow Swan,
the Purohita, and so on? I was one of the people they
snatched."

Ghopal wanted to know why, and Mogaba wondered how he had gotten
away.

"I got away because they let me go. They only picked me up
because they wanted to show me off to somebody they were holding
already." Aridatha took a long, deep breath and revealed his
great secret. "My father. Narayan Singh. They were showing
him their power."

"Narayan Singh? The Narayan Singh? The Strangler?"
Ghopal asked.

"That Narayan Singh. I didn't know. Not till then.
Our mother told us our father was dead. She believed it, I think.
The Shadowmasters conscripted him into their labor battalions
during their first invasion, before the Black Company ever arrived
from the north. I was the youngest of four children. I'm
pretty sure the older ones knew the truth. My brother Sugriva moved
to Dejagore and changed his name. My sister Khaditya changed hers,
too. Her husband would die of mortification if he knew."

"You've never mentioned this before."

"I think you can understand why."

"Oh. I do. That's a cruel burden to bear."
Mogaba already found himself responding to the Deceiver connection.
With exactly the sort of paranoid fear everyone did to any Deceiver
connection. It was inevitable. Aloud, he said, "I wonder how
those people ever trust each other?"

Aridatha replied, "I suspect you'd have to be inside
and a part of it all to understand. I think the biggest part of it,
though, would be their faith in their Goddess."

The Great General looked at Ghopal Singh. "If the Greys
have objections I need to hear them now."

Ghopal shook his head. "Only one Grey is going to know
about this. For now. The others wouldn't
understand."

"Aridatha. You have someone you trust to take charge while
you're gone?" The City Battalions did not know they
were part of a conspiracy to free Taglios from its protector. It
was necessary to keep firm control there.

"Yes. But no one in the know. If you have unusual requests
you'll have to justify them based on what's going on in
the city." The soldiers understood that their role was to
keep the peace if the population became too restive for the Greys
alone.

Mogaba asked, "Are there enough provocations to make any
excuses sound good?"

Ghopal showed a large array of teeth. Shadar were proud of their
well-kept teeth. "That's almost amusing. Since the news
reached the street that the Black Company really is back,
there's actually been less related graffiti. As though real
Company sympathizers don't want to risk identification and
the non-Company vandals responsible for most of it suddenly
don't want to be identified with any terror that's for
real."

"Terror?"

"You were right, what you said last night. There's a
growing fear of the Company out there. Like you said, it was in
olden times. I don't understand but it's helping keep
the peace just when I expected a lot more trouble."

"If you need provocations and the villains don't
provide them, feel free to create your own. Aridatha, you know what
needs doing. Do it. As quickly as possible. Before events move so
fast they rob us of more chances." Though it could happen
almost momentarily, Mogaba had abandoned any real hope of catching
the Protector unaware as she returned to the city.

At the moment it seemed she did not plan to return until the
Black Company invasion was settled.


Chapter 51 

The Taglian Territories: The Middle Ground

Soulcatcher, in
full leather and fuller ire, stalked the perimeter of the
encampment midway between Ghoja and Dejagore. A dozen frightened
officers followed, each silently appealing for mercy to his choice
of god or gods. The Protector in a rage was a disaster no one
wanted to experience. Her excesses made no more sense than do those
of a tornado.

"They haven't moved. For six days now they've
hardly taken a step. After hurtling northward like the storm
itself, so fast we were killing ourselves trying to pull something
together fast enough to stop them. What're they doing? What
changed suddenly?" As always when she was under stress
Soulcatcher was a babble of conflicting voices. That added to the
uneasiness of the men tagging after her. None had had any
experience with her before her arrival in camp. The actuality was
more unnerving than the stories predicted. She seemed every bit as
cruel and capricious as any god. Several graves beyond the
perimeter attested to the violence of her temper.

These sycophants would never find out but those who died had
been chosen only after extended supernatural espionage. Not one had
been a devoted servant of the Protectorate. Each had said so aloud.
Additionally, none had been particularly competent leaders and that
had been clear to their soldiers and compatriots. They had attained
their positions through nepotism or cronyism, not ability.

Soulcatcher was culling her officer corps. She was disappointed
that necessity prevented her from doing more. That corps was
terrible. But she would take no responsibility for that. Of
course.

How poor would it have been without the efforts of the Great
General? Probably an awful, corrupt joke without a punchline.
Without Mogaba's dedicated nurturing there would have been
little to assemble here.

How to keep it here? The desertion rate was supportable now but
showing signs of rising. Was that the enemy strategy? Wait until
the Taglian armies melted because of the demands of the approaching
harvest? Would they charge north again then? It sounded like a
Black Company sort of thing to do. Indications were, they had the
wealth to maintain a force in the field a long time.

Mogaba's messages indicated his own suspicions concerning
a similar strategy. He was tailoring his own approach toward
getting his enemy to take the long way around, into a trap.

Soulcatcher did not believe there would be any chance to trap
the Black Company. Their intelligence resources were much too
wonderful. While her own continued to fade. All species of crows
were becoming endangered. Mice, bats, rats, owls, those sorts of
creatures had no range. There seemed to be no modern sources of
quality crystal or worthy mercury with which to create a scrying
glass or bowl. The shadows she still controlled were few and feeble
and frightened and she refused to risk them in enemy territory,
often because each time she did a few more would not come back. And
for now she was cut off from her only source of replacements.

She glanced skyward, saw vultures circling to the north, over
woods which ran from right to left for as far as she could see. The
growth followed a shallow stream. Her sister had won a small
victory over the Shadowmasters there, ages ago, soon after the
Black Company had suffered the disaster that led to the siege of
Dejagore.

"I'm going to walk up there and see what those
vultures find so interesting."

No one gave in to the urge to protest.

Maybe the vultures would dine on her.

"None of you need to come with me."

Relief was obvious.


Chapter 52 

The Nether Taglian Territories: Lady Made
Grumpy Noises

Lady was in a
towering rage. I could not recall ever having seen her so close to
losing control. "How the hell could they let that happen?
Somebody was supposed to stay in that little shit's pocket
every second!"

No one bothered to respond. She did not want answers. Not
really. She wanted somebody to hurt.

Tobo was quietly busy talking to things that were there only
when you looked away. Big things, little things, human-looking
things and things that had escaped from madmen's nightmares.
Goblin was going to be found. Goblin was going to be tracked and
harassed and hurt if at all possible, all the live-long day.
Insofar as this fragment of the Company was concerned Goblin was
going to be the main mission from this day forward. He was to be
hunted down and exorcised--or exterminated--before he could engineer
any more disasters on Kina's behalf.

Though long out of practice and definitely out of the habit,
Lady hurled a deadly spell at an inoffensive scrub pine. The tree
began to wilt almost immediately.

"What the hell was that?" I demanded. "I
thought you couldn't . . . "

"Be quiet. Let me think." So astonished was Lady
that she forgot to be angry about Goblin.

I was quiet. I gave her all the thinking room a girl could
want.

Was there a silver lining inside our latest black cloud?

My at-the-moment not very lucky wife called, "Tobo. Next
message you send north, ask if the little shit got away with one of
the gate keys. Or anything else unusual."

Tobo made little gestures to the air, then replied, "I
checked on that already. He got away with nothing more than two
horses and one saddle. Not even a sausage. He's probably
eating bugs. The only unusual thing mentioned is that nobody
noticed him. An eventuation almost certainly artificial in
origin."

"Because?"

"Because he's being damned hard to notice right now.
The Black Hounds shouldn't be having trouble finding and
following him. But they are. He's as elusive as a ghost. Each
time they do make contact it's because he's been
following the road, without deviating, and they can just wait for
him to show up."

"Following the road where?"

"North. Toward the junction with the Rock Road.
Though because he isn't talking his plans are
unclear."

Tobo still had a sense of humor about what was going on.

I asked Lady, "How did you manage to murder that
tree?"

She mused, "A good question. Without a good answer. I
never felt any sharpened Kina presence."

"You think it might have to do with Goblin? We know Kina
must've put a piece of herself into him or he wouldn't
even be alive."

"I would've sensed something before. I think. Tobo.
Did you feel anything weird about Goblin?"

"Of course." The boy was curt. He was trying to
work. Old folks kept interrupting. "He wasn't Uncle
Goblin anymore. But he wasn't any more powerful than he was
before, either."

I said, "Maybe it was something that didn't come out
until he got the chance to kill Narayan."

Debate on the why increasingly focused on the fact that crippled
old Narayan had been in no shape to run or do anything on behalf of
his Goddess and, if left in our hands, would have been compelled to
reveal whatever he knew eventually. And while most of us would view
his murder as a betrayal by his Goddess, what we knew of Deceiver
doctrine suggested that he might actually see it as a reward.
Having been strangled for the Goddess, Narayan would go directly to
Deceiver paradise where, no doubt, his rewards would be
commensurate with his service.

I tend toward the cynical view where religion is concerned.

After a silence so extended I decided she was not listening,
my beloved responded, "You might just be smarter than you
look. She'd expect us to be suspicious enough to watch every
breath Goblin took. So she'd want him to seem as normal as
possible until he got a solid chance to get away." She began
to pace. "Poor Goblin. That would've been mostly him,
maybe even really trying to help his old friends as much as he
could. And he'll still be partly Goblin, but a prisoner
inside his own body." The hollowness of her voice indicated
that she might have been through that herself, once upon a
time.

"Which tells us nothing of his purpose. Or of
Kina's."

"She's in prison. She wants out. That doesn't
take any special figuring."

"But there'll be a grand plan. Old Goblin
didn't get his soul eaten up just so he could be flung across
the pond of the world like a skipping stone. He's going to go
somewhere and he's going to do something and if he gets away
with it all the rest of us are going to end up really
sorry."

Lady grunted. She was still mostly angry.

I said, "He headed north. What's up there that would
interest Kina?"

Tobo interrupted his sweet talk with his pets.
"Booboo." He sounded as unhappy as I felt.
"He's going to take Narayan's place watching over
the Daughter of Night."

"Yeah. Only there'll be a big chunk of Goddess in
him so he'll be a lot more dangerous than Narayan ever
was."

Lady glared around her with an expression that made me think she
did not have much trouble seeing Tobo's friends. "Do
you think my sister can be made to hear one of those?"

You could have heard a stack of pans drop. Even the animals
quieted down.

I asked, "You have something in mind?"

"Yes. We send her a message. Tell her what's going
on with Goblin. It's as much in her interest to stop him as
it is in ours."

"And she has a personal interest," Tobo reminded
us.

I understood immediately but Lady needed it explained.
"Goblin is the reason Soulcatcher has a bad leg."

"Oh. Of course. I remember now."

She ought. She was there, spying on everything through the eyes
of a white crow, during the kidnapping of the Radisha. That same
night Goblin managed to trick Soulcatcher into springing a booby
trap. The result had been serious and irreversible damage to her
right heel.

Tobo said, "She gets around pretty well now. She wears a
special boot and brace and is supported by several specialized
spells. She only limps when she's really tired."

"Ah. She'll definitely want to chat with Goblin,
then. She's always been a sore loser."

"Just a thought," I offered. "What happens if
Soulcatcher turns Goblin into her own version of the Taken? And
maybe Booboo, too? Word is, there were times when she showed a few
powers of her own."

"Make a slave out of a Goddess?" Lady was
incredulous. I raised an eyebrow. She protested, "What I did
wasn't the same thing at all. What I did was pure parasitism.
I wormed in so she couldn't get me out without hurting
herself."

"And now you're getting a little of that
back?"

"But it doesn't feel the same. Tobo. Can you send a
message to my sister or not?"

"I can try. In fact, I can do it. Easily. The real
question would be whether or not she'd listen."

"She'll listen or I'll kick her
butt."

It took all of us a moment to realize she was joking. She did so
so rarely.

Tobo began concentrating on the task of getting an extended
message to Soulcatcher.

Again I cautioned, "There's a risk in
this."

Lady just made one of her grumpy noises. She was turning into a
cranky old witch.


Chapter 53 

The Taglian Territories: A Haunted Wood

Soulcatcher
glanced back before entering the wood. "So where are they
all?" And in a firm male voice she demanded, "What
happened to all the suck-ups?"

Another voice, "Somebody should've wanted to kiss
up."

A puzzled voice asked, "They always do, don't
they?"

"Are we losing it here?"

"I don't like it."

"This isn't fun anymore." Petulant, spoiled
child voice.

"Most of the time we're just going through the
motions. There aren't any challenges here."

"Even when there are it's almost impossible to get
impassioned enough to care."

Most of those voices were businesslike but jaded.

"It's hard to keep going on fuel like hunger for
revenge alone."

"It's hard to be alone, period."

That remark brought on an extended silence. Soulcatcher did not
have a voice for expressing the emotional costs of being who she
was. Not out loud. Ferocious mad-killer sorcerers do not whine
because nobody likes them.

The growth along the creek had a sharp boundary. In another time
the land must have been groomed by human occupation. Soulcatcher
listened. The wood, which was a little more than a mile wide,
seemed remarkably silent. There should have been a racket from work
parties harvesting firewood and timber for use around the camp. But
there was nothing. And she did not recall authorizing a holiday.
Something had frightened the soldiers away.

Yet she sensed no danger.

After a moment, though, she did detect a supernatural
presence.

She glanced upward. Those vultures continued to circle. They
were lower now. They seemed to be wheeling above the presence she
sensed.

Warily, she probed farther and deeper. She had remarkably
well-honed senses when she cared to concentrate.

This presence was like nothing in her experience. Something like
a powerful shadow, yet with a strong implication of working
intelligence. Not a demon or some such otherworldly entity, though.
Something that felt like it was a part of nature but still having
about it a hint of not belonging to this world. But how? Not of
this world but not
otherworldly? . . . Something very powerful but
not driven by malice. At the moment. Something timeless, accustomed
to patience, mildly impatient right now, again a smart-shadow thing
like those stalkers down south had been.

Soulcatcher extended her senses to their maximum. This thing was
waiting for her. For her alone. It had repulsed everything but
those vultures. She had to be careful. Despite her ennui she did
not want to trigger a fatal ambush.

There was nothing.

She stepped forward.

She did so while assembling a quiver of sudden and deadly
spells. She squinted behind her mask, looking for this thing that
wanted to see her.

It grew stronger but less focused as she moved toward it. For a
moment it seemed that it was all around her--even while being in one
place somewhere ahead of her. When she did arrive where her senses
told her it ought to be, she saw nothing.

That place was a small clearing just off the Rock Road, across
the shallow stream. She saw several Vehdna grave markers and a few
Gunni memorial posts with time-gnawed prayer wheels on top. This
must be where her sister fought the Shadowlander cavalry during her
flight from Dejagore. In a time so long ago that she still had
believed Narayan Singh to be her friend and champion.

Sunlight tumbled through the leaves overhead. It dappled the
clearing. Soulcatcher settled on a rotten log that protruded from
what might once must have been an earthwork. "I'm here.
I'm waiting."

Something large moved at the edge of her vision. She got the
impression of a black feline. But when she turned she saw
nothing.

"So that's the way it's going to be,
eh?"

"Thus it must be. Ever." The response seemed to come
from nowhere in particular and it was not clear whether she heard
it with her ears or inside her head.

"What do you want from me?" Soulcatcher used a deep
masculine voice heavy with menace.

The presence was amused, not intimidated. "I bring a
message from your old friend Croaker."

Croaker was no friend. In fact, she was distinctly piqued with
that man. He had not been entirely cooperative when she had tried
to seduce him and now he had refused to stay buried after she had
tried to kill him. Still, he was the reason she had a head on her
shoulders these days. And that tiny edge would be why this
communication was arriving in his name.

"Go ahead."

The whatever-it-was did as she bid. As she listened she poked
around in an effort to fathom its true nature. While searching for
some handle she could grasp to make it over into an agent of her
own.

It sensed what she was doing. It was amused. Not troubled. Not
frightened. Not inclined to react. Just amused.

Soulcatcher reviewed the story carefully once the spook had
finished relating it. It sounded plausible. If incomplete. But why
expect those people to be entirely forthcoming in such a
situation?

Try as she might she could discover no obvious trap. They
sounded worried down there. This news could explain their sudden
shift of strategy.

Goblin possessed by Kina. Narayan Singh dead. The Daughter of
Night running loose . . . Not running loose at
all! In the hands of her troops, on the Rock Road somewhere south
of Dejagore, very probably looking for an opportunity to get
loose.

Goblin might arrange that.

She bounced up off the rotten log, ennui gone. "Tell
Croaker he can consider communications opened. I'll take
steps to deal with the situation. Go! Go!"

A flicker. Like a shadow passing through and deserting at the
same time. It left a deeply felt chill and one more uncertain
glimpse of an impossibly large, catlike form moving away at an
impossible pace.

From the nearby Rock Road came the rattle and clop of a large
party headed south. Camels seemed to be involved. That meant
civilians. There were no camels in her armies. She hated camels.
They were filthy animals with nasty tempers even on their best
days.

She leapt across the creek and hurried to the edge of the woods,
emerging not a hundred feet from where a caravan was doing the
same. Civilian it was, but most of the wagons and camels and mules
would discharge their cargo in her camp.

The caravaners spied her. They were startled. And
frightened.

Her blood was moving again. She always enjoyed the impact she
made when she appeared unexpectedly.

As she turned and raised her gaze to the circling vultures she
thought she glimpsed a familiar face among the merchants and
teamsters. Aridatha Singh? Here? How? Why? But when she looked more
closely she saw no Aridatha. Maybe it was just someone who looked
like Singh. Maybe it was her reawakened zest reminding her that it
had been a long time since she had enjoyed a man. Aridatha Singh
had a definite masculine allure. Few women failed to notice that,
though he seemed entirely unaware of the effect he had.

Time enough to think about that after she alerted Dejagore and
got troops of cavalry out to round up her niece, that willful,
difficult child.

There must be some way to gain control of her and add her
talents to the arsenal of the Protectorate. Possibly she might even
take Goblin--despite the fact of his possession.

Goblin never had been much of a wizard.

How sweet revenge was when it arrived after a long delay.

Then let that bitch Ardath and all her dogs come on! A lot of
ancient debts would get paid off.

As she approached the encampment ditch she glanced back to
consider the vultures again.

The carrion birds had broken their circle. Only a few remained
in sight, cruising the sky in search of something rank and tasty
again.

Soulcatcher found a voice she had not used since she was young.
With it she began to sing a song of springtime and young love, in a
language recalled from the springtime of life, when love still
lived in the world.

The sentries were extremely frightened.


Chapter 54 

The Taglian Territories: The Thing in the
Cesspit

I have a
question," Murgen said. The stronghold at Nijha was in sight.
"Who's going to tell Sleepy we're in bed with the
Protector?"

I replied, "I don't reckon anybody has to. Not
putting it that way, anyhow."

"She's a reasonable woman," Lady opined.
"She'll understand what we did and why."

Tobo
laughed. Murgen just grinned weakly. The boy wizard said,
"You must not have been paying attention. Or you
must've mistaken the Sleepy I know for somebody
else."

I told him, "She'll get over it. How's
Soulcatcher doing on cutting Booboo off?"

"She has pickets out in a line south of Dejagore. The line
keeps spreading out wider, to either side of the Rock Road. She
doesn't entirely trust me to send her solid information. And
I'm not giving her everything I know because I don't
want her guessing how well I can keep an eye on her. She's
not talking about this to her captains, by the way. My guess is
she's afraid she'll start losing them if they begin
worrying about Kina."

What a bold lot we were. When first the Company arrived in the
Taglian Territories a fixed part of Taglian culture was that the
Goddess was never named lest her attention be attracted. If a name
just had to be used people would reference the watered-down avatar
from Gunni myth, Khadi.

The fact that the name Kina is now widely used in daily speech
is one more indication of the magnitude of the impact the Company
has had these past few decades.

Maybe those old-timers had been right to be terrified of us. We
have shaken a civilization to its foundations. And its future does
not look bright.

They asked for it. All we ever wanted was to pass on
through.

"We won't have to deal with Sleepy for a few days
yet," Tobo told us. "She's moving out of the
highlands onto the plain, following the south bank of the Viliwash
right now. She's only moving a few miles a day. The
countryside there has enough of a surplus to support her easily.
She's started trying to recruit. In the name of the
Prahbrindrah Drah. The Prince and his sister are showing themselves
off."

I had a feeling they would not sell well in those parts. That
was territory that had been conquered by the Black Company in
Taglios' name. "What about Booboo?"

"Almost up to the Protector's picket line now.
Sticking to the Rock Road. The Black Hounds have instructions to
make sure she gets caught."

Lady grumped, "I thought she was caught already. That she
was a prisoner."

"That's true. But right now she seems content to
have it that way. I understand that her guards aren't nearly
as attentive to her security as they ought to be."

Having read Sleepy's Annals I was not surprised. Booboo
seemed capable of having a mind-numbing impact on nearby male-type
people.

"Then that's something you need to let my sister
know. Otherwise she could get a surprise that would leave all of us
unhappy."

We were approaching the Nijha wall. I said, "You experts
ought to give this place the once-over. See if our bitty old buddy
left any evidence behind." That earned me frowns and scowls.
Here came a chance to rest and I was talking about more work. Not
for me but for them. I changed the subject and asked Lady,
"You said Sleepy burned the Books of the Dead? The real ones?
You were a direct witness?"

"I was a witness through the white crow. She burned all
three of them. Shivetya himself has their ashes. He's been
having Baladitya dispose of them a pinch at a time by having them
carried away by anyone who's traveling the plain."

Tobo said, "I moved a lot of them back when Suvrin and I
were exploring the plain. What's up?"

"An old man natural's curiosity, I guess. Everyone,
and the Deceivers seemed to agree, thinks the Daughter of Night--or
whoever inherits her job if she fails--will have to have the Books
of the Dead to complete the rituals of the Year of the Skulls. No
books, no resurrection. Right?"

I did not get an answer. There was no answer anyone could give.
In actual fact nobody really knew. Possibly not even my befuddled
daughter or poor old Deceiver and now very dead Narayan Singh.

Lady stipulated, "The old witch is still in there trying,
isn't she?"

"Isn't she?"

Lady and Tobo found nothing of interest at the Nijha post.
Goblin had not shed his skin or left any secret Deceiver hex signs.
He had just started running while the getting was good, as soon as
somebody realized that he might be responsible for Narayan's
murder.

Uncle Doj rejoined us at Nijha. So did some stragglers who had
accumulated there. Sleepy would not have much trouble with
desertions. These men knew no one outside the Company and spoke not
a word of Taglian or any other local language.

With the stragglers added we would number more than a hundred
when we resumed traveling. Of the original group we lacked only
Spook and Panda Man, who had been awarded the dubious honor of
staying behind to watch the shadowgate.

Once she finished looking for other evidence, Lady cornered Doj.
"Where's the body?"

"Huh?" The old swordmaster was baffled.

"Narayan Singh. What did you do with his
corpse?"

Tobo and I exchanged looks. That question had not occurred to
either of us. It might be a good idea to make doubly certain just
who had died. Narayan Singh had been a veritable Prince of
Deceivers, beloved of Kina.

One of the injured men left to garrison Nijha volunteered,
"They threw him in the old cesspit, then filled it with dirt
and rock from the new latrine, ma'am. Which was built
according to your specifications, sir."

I have had a reputation as a martinet along those lines ever
since I joined the Company. And when health, hygiene and waste
disposal are handled my way the Company tends to experience
significantly fewer disease problems than do people who do not do
things my way. It remains impossible to reason with some men,
though, so I just give orders and make sure they are carried
out.

"Dig him up," Lady directed. And when nobody rushed
to grab up picks and shovels she began to glow darkly and swell up
and even to develop fangs.

Then people started looking for tools.

"That was interesting," I told her.

"Been working on it since I ambushed myself and that tree.
It doesn't take much effort or power but it ought to be
visually impressive."

"It definitely was that."

The exhumation satisfied Lady. There was a body. It resembled
Narayan Singh, even including his bad leg. And it was unnaturally
well preserved considering where it had been buried.

"Well?" I asked after she had gone so far as to open
the body up. I do not know what she expected to find.

"It does seem to be him. Considering who he served, who
seemed to love him, I was almost certain there wouldn't be a
body. Or it wouldn't be Narayan's if there
was."

The truth was, she had not wanted it to be Narayan. She did not
want Singh evading her vengeance this easily.

"There's no dramatic unity in real life," I
told her. "Save it up and take it out on Goblin."

She offered me a wicked look.

"I mean on the thing that's taken possession of
Goblin." The real Goblin would be my oldest surviving
friend.

She carved Narayan's corpse into little pieces. She left a
trail of those for the bugs and buzzards over the next several
days. But the man's head, heart and hands she kept in a jar of
pickling brine.

I did not ask why or if she had a plan. Narayan's escape
had left her in much too black a mood for small talk.

A couple of times I did overhear her cursing the fact that there
were no great necromancers left in the world.

She would call Narayan back from paradise or hell to make him
pay for taking our daughter.

The smaller Voroshk girl, the captive, came out to see us. In
not bad Taglian she told us, "Sedvod just died." She
stared at Tobo the whole time.

I went to check. The sick boy had, indeed, passed on. And I
still had no idea why.

I figured the Goblin thing probably deserved the blame.


Chapter 55 

The Nether Taglian Territories: Along the
Viliwash

Sleepy surprised
us all. She was irked about us dealing with Soulcatcher but she
made no great fuss. "This situation isn't the one I
prepared for. Tobo. I trust you're taking steps to prevent
the Protector from observing what we're doing."

"She sees what we want her to see. Which means she
doesn't see what we're doing, only what our mutual
enemies are doing."

Which was not much on Booboo's part. Despite her best
effort to vanish during the night after her captors first
encountered Soulcatcher's pickets, she remained a captive.
She would be turned over to Soulcatcher herself within a few
days.

Goblin, moving faster than the girl's captors were, had
been gaining ground fast and Tobo now placed him only about thirty
miles behind. I suggested that he would be more trouble to
Soulcatcher than Booboo ever could.

Thinking out loud, I said, "I wonder if this is how myths
get started."

People looked at me like they were not sure they wanted to know
what that was all about.

I explained. "Here we've got a bunch of people
visiting strange places most people couldn't get to even if
they wanted. We've got close relatives squabbling and even
trying to murder each other."

"That's reaching," Murgen said.

"I like it," Tobo said. "A thousand years from
now they'll remember me as the god of storms. Or
something."

"Or something?" his father asked. "How about
the small god who makes littler rocks out of runty
stones?"

Earlier Tobo had gotten caught making stones explode. He had
been doing it for the sheer joy of watching them shatter and
hearing the fragments ricochet. He was embarrassed. But you have
got to have fun once in a while. Today's Company is not
nearly as much fun as it was when I was young.

I snickered. "We marched forty miles every day. Uphill all
the way. In the snow. When we weren't in the
swamp."

"What?"

"Thought I'd start practicing for when I get really
old. How do you make rocks explode?"

"Oh. That's easy. You just kind of feel what
they're like inside. You find the water. You make it hot
enough and the rock goes boom."

Find the water. Inside a rock. And the rock goes boom. Right. I
had to ask. I changed the subject. "How are those Voroshk
kids doing?" Despite everything he had to do, Tobo found time
to spend with our captives.

It was amazing how much the kid could handle in a day.

I could recall when life worked that way for me. Back when we
were marching up all those hills. With cold, wet feet.

"Uncle Doj has them speaking Taglian like they were born
in the delta, in the shadow of the temple of
Ghanghesha."

"Excellent." He was poking fun, of course.

"They're picking up the language. Shukrat and
Magadan could get by now. Arkana is having trouble but she's
catching on. None of them are mourning Sedvod. Gromovol, the
brother, is being stubborn. He doesn't like not being the
only conduit. He likes to be in control. Of something. But even he
is making progress."

"Gromovol is the pain in the ass, then? Which're
which with the other names? I haven't heard any names
before."

"That's because they hadn't given up hope that
their family would rescue them from their own dumb mistake. Even
more than the Gunni do, they believe their names can be used
against them. There's a connection with their
souls."

"Which means that Shukrat and Magadan and whatnot
won't actually be real names."

"They're real public names. Work names. Just not
true names."

"I've never understood the concept but it's
one I've learned to live with. Which one is which?"

"Shukrat is the shorter girl. The one who
crashed."

"The one who's working up a crush on you."

Tobo ignored me. The ability to ignore seems to be coupled with
a talent for sorcery. "Arkana is the ice queen. Which I
definitely would not mind melting. Magadan is the quiet
guy."

Magadan, in my estimation, would be the dangerous one. If he so
chose. He observed and studied and prepared. He did not bluster or
invoke the threat of powers from a world away. "Did you tell
them what happened at the shadowgate?"

"They didn't want to believe me but they did enough
to decide to introduce themselves. Enough to conclude that
they're likely to be a part of our world for a long time to
come."

"You did remind them that that's what they asked
for?"

"Sure. Shukrat even managed to joke about it. She has a
great sense of humor. For a girl. Who didn't ask to be
here."

Considering the females in his experience I could see how he
might think a feeble sense of humor was a sex-linked
characteristic. Only Iqbal Singh's wife ever smiled and
joked. And Suruvhija's lot was the poorest of all the women
associated with the Company.

"But all you can see is long legs, long blonde hair, big
blue eyes and a monumental set of gazoombies." Once we got up
into settled country we needed to find the kid a whore. Twenty
years old and never been laid.

On the other hand, harnessing all that energy the way we were
right now had a lot to recommend it. We were not headed into an era
where we could let our most talented wizard be distracted by
nature.

Maybe we should find him a traveling companion.

I could just imagine what his mother would say about that.

"The future," I said, raising my hand as though
holding a drink. "We have to get Swan and Blade set up in the
brewing business."

Murgen said, "That's what I miss most about One-Eye,
too."

"Here's a thought. Maybe Goblin will get so thirsty
he'll shake Kina off and set up a still."

I had to mention Goblin. That took the pleasure out of the
moment.

Everybody who remembered the old Goblin had to deal with those
memories each time the man's name came up. Those memories
were going to be treacherous if ever we confronted the revenant
himself. Even if they caused just a moment's hesitation.

If we had to go after Goblin hard we would be better served to
send people from Hsien. They would not be sentimental about him.
Their exposure was entirely hearsay.

I did not want to hasten the day.

I asked, "Tobo, now that we've slowed down, what are
we going to do about the Howler?" An entire infantry company
had been saddled with that sleeping sorcerer from the day he and
Longshadow had been brought up out of the earth. That company had
no other duties but transporting and protecting the Howler.
"Something's got to be. If she don't wake him up
and make a deal we'd better kill him. Before Soulcatcher
figures out that we've got him and steals him so she can use
him herself."

I was worried that Sleepy was not taking the Howler seriously
enough. She had no experience of him. Not enough to understand just
how dangerous he could be, which was just as dangerous as
Soulcatcher. And he was crazier than she was.

The Howler was no dedicated enemy of ours though he had worked
against us far more often than otherwise. His nature seemed to make
him a follower. He gravitated toward where the strength seemed to
be. He was so powerful I would prefer he was with us rather than
not. Or, if not with us, dead.

"There's a certain amount of debate. Sleepy would
rather just leave him for the jackals. Mom would, too, only she
keeps having these premonitions. You know how big premonitions are
with the women of the Ky family."

"One got your mom and dad together."

"No use crying over spilled milk," Willow Swan said.
"How about somebody tells Sleepy if she's not going
anywhere in a hurry why don't we set down in one place?
It's a pain to set up and tear down every day if we're
not going anywhere."

Our northward drift did allow for a lot of camp time. I used it
to work on these Annals. Lady used it to get several wagon loads of
large bamboo poles collected so she could begin manufacturing a new
generation of fireball projectors. Tobo used it to teach the
Voroshk youngsters. I joined him occasionally. The boy Magadan
seemed to have a healing touch. We needed to nurture that.

Arkana remained the ice queen. Shukrat grew more relaxed with
us. And Gromovol decided he wanted to become my buddy--in support of
whatever scheme was shaping up inside of him.

Although he did not spread it around, Tobo figured out the
basics of riding the Voroshk flying post. At least, a particular
flying post. I suspect Shukrat helped him. It was her post he
sneaked out in the middle of the night, indulging all of a young
man's joy in adventure.


Chapter 56 

The Nether Taglian Territories: The Manor at
Gharhawnes

Ten days into the
Amble on the Viliwash we had traveled barely forty-five miles. A
third of those we covered in a single day when it became apparent,
to the amazement of all, that there really were people in the
Taglian Territories disinclined to celebrate liberation from the
Protector's reign. A coalition of regional nobles and priests
tried to resist, then tried to hole up in a stout manor called
Gharhawnes. In the field Tobo used his talents to weaken their will
to resist, before the soldiers got a real chance to beat up on
them.

We surrounded the manor at dusk. Fires sprouted. The outer wall
of the manor house seemed to boil with a dark mist as the Unknown
Shadows stormed the place.

Results did not become obvious for hours. Tobo's friends
preferred to be indirect. And preferred the cover of darkness.

We had the place surrounded. Our bonfires sent harmless shadows
scampering over the manor walls. I told Sleepy, "This place
looks nice and comfy, Captain. We're in no hurry. We could
hang around here for a while. Long enough to learn its
name."

She was underwhelmed by the suggestion.
"Gharhawnes."

"Bless you."

"Gharhawnes is the name of the place, you
idiot."

"And it's the best place we've seen. Maybe we
should set up the prince and his sister here. Sort of get them back
into the swing of being royalty." The gods knew they got no
practice with us savages. We just dragged them hither and yon like
so much duffel, in case they became useful someday.

"Don't you have some writing to do? Or a boil to
lance?"

"Not at the moment. I'm all yours and full of
advice."

Before she could put together a suitable reply without using
profanity, a party of several men slipped out of the manor,
bringing women and children with them.

I had a feeling our camp looked pretty impressive.

It was supposed to look like a horde was on the move.

Tobo and his parents materialized. The boy said, "The
haunts are working faster than I thought they would." He
extended an arm, hand palm downward, then whispered in what sounded
like the language of Hsien. A moment later a cry of rage came from
a high manor window where a pair of archers had been about to snipe
at the defectors. One somehow managed to fall through the
opening.

The Captain said, "Have those things start whispering that
anyone who surrenders before dawn will be allowed to take their
possessions with them. They'll even be allowed to go home
unharmed if they take an oath to the Prahbrindrah Drah. Captives
taken after sunrise tomorrow will be conscripted into our forced
labor battalions."

We did not have forced labor battalions. But those were a part
of siege warfare and were often the fate of prisoners of war and
peasants who were insufficiently fleet of foot. The threat was
plausible. And the Black Company had a long reputation for being
unimpressed by caste, noble birth, or priestly status, too.

Once it was clear we would provide covering fire to defectors a
flow developed. Usually the soldiers set to keep deserters from
using the posterns were the first to come over.

The people engineering the resistance were not popular with
their conscripted followers.

So some folks wanted to see the Protectorate continue but the
people who had to do the work were not interested. The few I got to
talk to had no real convictions in the matter. Who ruled made
little difference in their lives. But it was getting on toward
harvest time.

One of the great truths was getting some exposure to the light
here.

Our men entered the manor early next morning. I was still
asleep. Tobo's pets spread confusion. Our men cleaned up
behind them. None of our people died. There were few wounds of any
consequence. Sleepy felt magnanimous. She turned most of the men of
standing over to the Radisha and her brother for judgment. Only
those Tobo identified as irredeemable creatures of the Protector
faced the Company justice.

"Spread that around," Sleepy told Tobo. "Make
it sound a lot bigger than it was."

'Tonight little people will be whispering in the ears of
sleepers everywhere within two hundred miles."


Chapter 57 

The Nether Taglian Territories: The
Resurrection

That far Taglian
province shared religions with the rest of the Taglian Territories,
with the majority being Gunni. It's language was closely akin
to that spoken around Dejagore. Sleepy could manage the dialect
with only a little practice.

What I called a manor house was really more like a village
completely enclosed within a single blockish structure. The
principal building material was an unbaked brick kept carefully
plastered so it would not wash away in the rain.

Inside there was an open central square with both cisterns and a
good well. Stables and workshops opened on it all around. The rest
of the structure was a warren of halls and rooms where people
obviously lived and worked and ran shops and lived life as though
the place was indeed some sort of city.

"It's a termite mound," Murgen told me.

'The Prince and his sis ought to feel right at home.
It's as bad as the Taglian Palace. On a miniature
scale."

"I want to know what they ate. The smell is
overpowering." The odors of spices clogged every hallway. But
that was true in every Taglian city and town. These odors were just
an alien mix.

Thai Dei caught up. He had actually allowed Murgen out of his
sight for several minutes. Maybe he was slowing down, too. He
brought a message. "Tobo says to tell you that Sleepy has
decided to take a chance on wakening the Howler."

You could tell Thai Dei was worried because that was one of the
longest speeches I ever heard the man make.

Sleepy chose to undertake the awakening with full pomp, ceremony
and drama. Following an evening meal we gathered in what had been a
temple hall, when everyone was rested, well fed and supposedly
relaxed. The place of worship was poorly lit and boasted far too
many multiheaded and multiarmed idols in its corners to lead me to
consider it strictly benign.

None of the idols represented Khadi but all Gunni deities make
me uncomfortable.

I was present in a demigod role myself. I appeared as the creepy
armored monster Widowmaker. I do not enjoy the role.

My dearly beloved, on the other hand, just loves any excuse to
assume the guise of Lifetaker. For a few hours she can wear the
ugly armor and pretend that these are still the good old days when
she was something much more wicked than this Lifetaker thing is
supposed to be now.

Our role in the proceeding was to sit there in the gloom with
colorful worms of sorcery slithering over us. We were supposed to
look intimidating while others got the real work done.

Tobo just came as Tobo. Hell, he did not bother putting on a
clean shirt and trousers. But he did bring his Voroshk
students.

The rest of the audience consisted of senior officers and
regional notables who had come in, mainly, to assess the
Prahbrindrah Drah and to discover what they would need to do to
weather our presence.

Conquerers do come and go.

The hall was crowded. All those bodies produced a lot of heat.
And I was inside that armor, sitting motionless on a stool behind
the action, One-Eye's black spear held upright in my right
hand. That was supposed to be my entire part.

It mostly involved not fainting in front of witnesses.

Sleepy had set the stage pretty well, with the low lighting and
enough advance rumormongering to make the audience understand that
the Howler was both foaming-mouth mad and yet a sorcerer who was as
powerful as the Protector.

Poor Howler. Despite his part in the Shadowmaster wars he was
almost forgotten now.

The Voroshk, I noted, eventually settled right up front. Tobo
was treating them as good friends, particularly the well-rounded,
freckled little blonde. He chattered with her until Sleepy growled
and told him to get on with it.

Even I felt a little let down by the awakening. Tobo indulged in
no mumbo jumbo and no showmanship. He felt that his part was no
more exciting than working in a stable.

But his effort was more impressive to thoughtful minds. A few
people, maybe the right people, understood that Tobo was so good he
could make something big look routine.

I thought the boy's efforts said a lot about his
character, too. His ego did not need a lot of feeding.

I noted that three out of four Voroshk got it right away.
Gromovol actually got it, too, but he did have an ego disease.

Tobo freed Howler from his long trance in a matter of
minutes.

I do not know the whole story. You never do with their kind of
people. But I do know that Howler is ages older even than Lady. He
was one of the men who helped her first husband, the Dominator,
build the Domination, an empire that collapsed into the northern
dust about the time the original Black Company crossed over from
Khatovar. Howler's pain and deformity are a legacy of that
time. So is the kind of thinking that led Soulcatcher to proclaim
herself Protector.

The woman does not have the obsessive focus and drive necessary
to create a true replica of that old empire of darkness.

I never have seen Howler outside the layered rags he wears, rags
so long unchanged that a whole ecology has developed between the
Howler's skin and the surrounding world. It includes numerous
invertebrates, molds, mildews and a variety of small green
plants.

The Howler is smaller than Goblin or One-Eye ever were but Lady
insists that that was not always the case.

When Tobo finished, the almost shapeless little ragbag sucked in
a deep breath, then let out one of the shrieks that had given him
his name. It seemed an egalitarian mix of agony and despair. I
shivered despite the heat. It had been a long time since I had
heard one of those cries. I could have waited a lot longer to hear
this one.

The little wizard sat up.

Swords made metallic sounds. Spearheads dropped. Several of the
half dozen existing, new-production fireball projectors swung to
point Howler's way.

But he did nothing more. He was at least as disoriented as the
worst of the rest of us when he awakened.

Tobo signalled. A man stepped forward with a pitcher of water.
Howler would be fiercely thirsty. He would drink as much as he was
allowed for the next couple of days. The first few of us to be
awakened four years ago had made ourselves sick drinking too much
water.

We learned to ration.

Howler wanted water by the gallon, too.

He did not get it.

He opened his mouth. A terrible howl came out. He could not
control that frightful habit.

As rationality returned the little wizard looked around and was
not pleased with his situation. He did not recognize anyone
immediately. He asked, "How long has it been?" He used
a tongue of the north so ancient no one but Lady spoke it. She
translated into the language of Hsien, adding, "Right now he
thinks he's been resurrected into a whole new age."

I suggested, "Break his heart fast. We don't have
time to waste."

Howler asked questions again, in a series of languages, trying
to elicit an understandable response.

I watched him wilt as he began to acknowledge the possibility
that he had been asleep so long that the nations of his own age had
been forgotten. But he was not entirely numb mentally. Though they
differed in detail from the originals he soon recognized the armor
Lady and I wore. And recalled who was who. He addressed himself to
Lifetaker. The language he chose was an old one that they had
shared in another age. There had been a time when I could read it,
written, but could only guess at the meaning of the spoken
words.

Just when everyone started to relax he let rip another
bone-chilling shriek.

Lady announced, "Howler sees the general situation. Once
he's had a little more explained I think he'll be
amenable to an alliance."

I used the language of Hsien to respond. "Howler has been
part of my life most of my life. And all that time he's been
one of the people trying to kill me. I don't think I can be
real comfortable having him on my side."

"Well, that would be stupid, wouldn't it? We
don't have to trust him, darling. The Unknown Shadows will
keep him trustworthy."

Of course. "And you do remember his true name. Which you
could pass along to Tobo."

"If I have to."

I nodded, thinking it might be a damned good idea for her to
tell Tobo right away. Because the Howler was not the sort to be
shy, reluctant or slow about eliminating a threat.

Howler let rip another terrible cry.

Sleepy had begun to simmer because she did not know what was
going on.

Lady talked to the Howler about our situation while I told the
Captain what was going on.

The Howler howled. There was some passion in this cry. He did
not like the situation at all. But he had been there before and my
sweetie was amply blunt in making it clear that there would be only
one other choice available.

One reason the Howler had become the Howler was his powerful
aversion to death. Nor did he have any reason to love Soulcatcher,
who had buried him in a hope that that would last forever. And who
had played him cruelly a time or two farther in the past.

The little sorcerer howled again.

In the language of Hsien I wondered aloud, "Tobo, do you
think Shivetya has the power to cure this little shit's
screaming?" It really got distracting after a while.

Tobo shrugged. "Possibly." He was not paying much
attention. "I can find out." He was trying to hear what
Riverwalker was whispering to Sleepy. Riverwalker had been called
away a few minutes earlier. He was back now with Suvrin and a
cavalry officer named Tea Nung. Nung's troop was supposed to
have picket duty so I supposed something important had happened out
there.

Sleepy nodded, said something affirmative. Riverwalker, Suvrin
and Tea Nung withdrew. Sleepy started to snap something at them but
whatever the thought was, it had come too late. Sleepy shifted her
attention back to the matter at hand. She seemed less than totally
focused now. She had developed a case of the fidgets. And she
seemed to have brightened up.

She leaned over to confide something to Sahra.

Sahra was startled. Then she became smiley and conspiratorial,
possibly even teasing.

The Captain did appear to be embarrassed.

Lady coughed indiscretely to cue me that it was
Widowmaker's turn to speak to our leader. So I said,
"Captain, the Howler would be honored to throw in his lot
with the Black Company. He'll create flying carpets for us
and he'll help with our weapons program. I wouldn't
trust him a whole hell of a lot, though. And I'd keep him
away from the Voroshk." All this stated in the language of
Hsien, so the little sorcerer would not follow.

The youngsters remained in their unhappy clump, trying to
understand. Almost perky little Shukrat understood enough Taglian
already to keep her companions accurately posted as to what got
said in that language.

Riverwalker and Suvrin returned. A tall, handsome man
accompanied them. He was dusty and obviously exhausted but he was
alert. He ran an inquisitive eye over everyone. He seemed to
recognize several people. He even bowed slightly to the
Radisha.

Sleepy rose to greet him. There was a deference in her manner I
had not seen before, though it was so subtle as to lurk on the
border of imagination. Obviously this was someone she knew. But not
someone she cared to announce. After a tentative clasping of hands
she, Sahra, Riverwalker and a few others, including the Radisha,
slipped away.

I wondered immediately if they had not done something stupid by
bringing the man into a crowded hall when a meeting with him
needed to be private. Yet a glance around showed me nobody buzzing.
Excepting Sleepy's cronies from her years underground in
Taglios.

Might the visitor be some Company brother who had been left
behind? Or some past ally?

The glance around also showed me all the Gunni idols apparently
stirring. That had begun to divert the attention of the audience.
Tobo was grim with concentration. He had his spectral allies hard
at work.

That pretty boy had to be somebody special.

A moment later Widowmaker moved for the first time during the
festivities. He stood up suddenly. The tip of his spear snapped
down, pricked the rags surrounding the Howler, who had managed to
stifle his screams and was in the process of beginning to ooze
away.

Lifetaker's great black sword fell an instant later,
blocking his line of sight.


Chapter 58 

Gharhawnes: The Traitor General

It was deep in the
night when a limping Runmust Singh dragged me out of bed. Out of a
real bed. It had been ages. And this one came with a real woman in
it. Runmust insisted that she had to get up, too. The Captain
wanted us both.

Lady was grumbling something about restructuring the chain of
command when we left our cubicle. We ran into Murgen right away. He
was waiting for Thai Dei, who had not gotten a personalized wake up
call. Sahra was nowhere in sight.

I asked, "When are you two going to work it out so you can
go your own ways?" Thai Dei was one of very few
Nyueng Bao still dedicating himself to bodyguarding.

"I don't think that'll happen," Murgen
said. "He doesn't have anything else since Narayan
died."

"Ah." Thai Dei's son had been slain by
Stranglers. Thai Dei was another who had been waiting in line to
get some paybacks.

The obligation to protect Murgen had become a convenient fiction
for both men. I should have recognized that a long time ago. I who
have made such a big deal out of brotherhood for so many years.

Thai Dei bustled up. We set off after Runmust. I said,
"Singh, you should let me take a look at that leg. It
should've healed faster than it has."

"It'll mend fine once I get some real rest, sir. And
I believe we expect to stay here for some time."

What good would that do if the man refused to take the
opportunity to rest?

I could have Tobo knock him into a coma.

Runmust led us to a room barely big enough to fit a dozen
people. Sleepy and Suvrin, the Prahbrindrah Drah and his sister,
Tobo and Sahra were there already. So was the handsome
stranger.

"Sit," Sleepy said. Then she got straight to the
point. "This is Aridatha Singh." Beside me, Lady
winced, recognizing the name and thinking of her trophies.
"Aridatha commands the City Battalions in Taglios. He, the
Great General and Ghopal Singh, who commands the Greys, form the
triumvirate who're running Taglios while the Protector is out
of town. Aridatha tells me that he and they--the Protector's
top henchmen--have decided they need to get rid of her."

From one side, in back, Willow Swan grumbled, "Ghopal
Singh is a general now? He was a damned sergeant when he worked for
me."

Aridatha responded, "The Protector prides herself on her
ability to recognize outstanding talent."

A joke of sorts had passed between the two. I guess you had to
have been part of the situation to follow it.

While we sat around with our mouths hanging open, looking
intelligent, Sleepy told the outsider, "These people are here
to offer their advice. That's Croaker. He was the Liberator,
once upon a time. That's Lady. That's Murgen.
They've all led the Company at some time. The others
you'll recall from the last time we met." She passed
over Thai Dei, which lent him an air of mystery, nor did she
introduce the Prahbrindrah Drah.

I asked, "Did Mogaba send you?"

"I volunteered. Because your Captain knew me. And because
your Company has no personal grievance with me."

Lady stirred. She was willing to invent one.

Sleepy said, "It would seem that there are limits even
Mogaba refuses to exceed. And Soulcatcher has managed to discover
them."

Aridatha said, "You have ancient grievances with the Great
General.

"I want you to know that he isn't an evil man. He is
an obsessed man, though his obsession has weathered away with age.
He's realized that history won't record his name on the
roll of great conquerers. There's no longer time. He
hasn't entirely made his peace with that but he does see that
it's his own fault. Because of his untimely defection during
the siege of Dejagore he has been forced to serve a procession of
deranged and incompetent masters. But that's of no moment
now.

"Between us, he, Ghopal, and I have concluded that Taglios
should be spared any more torment by the Protector. She's
like a deadly rot. She's destroying everything slowly. Even
our religions and culture. And the only force able to put an end to
that is the Black Company."

Murgen suggested, "You guys could whack her yourselves.
She's not immortal. And she trusts you. As much as she trusts
anybody. That gets you close
enough . . . "

"That plan was in place even before you people resurfaced.
But she's stayed away from the city since the beginning of
that crisis. Her messages to the Great General all affirm her
determination to keep after you until she's accounted for
every member of the Black Company personally. She was extremely put
out because so many people who were supposed to be dead started
turning up alive."

"Believe me, I know how exasperating that is," Lady
said. "For twenty years I chased the Deceiver Narayan Singh.
The man had more lives than a cat."

Aridatha caught the past tense. "Has the living saint of
the Deceivers passed to his reward, then?"

"He got away from me through the only exit he had
left." Lady sounded extremely bitter. Like she thought Singh
had beaten her by cheating blatantly. Her hatred of Narayan was
stronger than I had suspected.

"Then that's one distraction that no longer needs
concern us."

"Incorrect," Sleepy said, reclaiming control.
"The Daughter of Night is still out there. And Kina still
hopes to bring on the Year of the Skulls. Whatever else happens,
Kina and her followers still have to be managed. Tell my associates
why we should trust anything you tell us, Aridatha."

"I am, of course, damned to walk in the shadow of a man I
met only once in my life, after I was a grown man, and then for
only a few minutes, several years ago, in your presence.
That's the legacy of the Deceivers. The cult destroys trust.
My answer is, all men should be judged by one standard: their
behavior. By the deeds they do. The gesture of good faith I have to
make in this instance is, I think, generous."

Sleepy interrupted. "Aridatha has a brother who lives in
Jaicur. Under an assumed name. This brother, real name Sugriva, is
going to help us take the city. He'll scout out the best gate
for us to get at in the middle of the night. We'll use it to
prance in and take over before anyone can put up a
fight."

I opened my mouth to argue but stopped before anything stupid
came out. Sleepy's mind was made up. All I could do was my
best to make sure everything worked out right. "Soulcatcher
has an army between here and there. One that outnumbers us, I
hear."

"And one that's little better than a rabble,
according to Aridatha. Some of the poorer soldiers are armed only
with hammers, pitchforks, sickles and such."

"A guy goes away for a few decades, everything turns to
shit," I said. "I had everybody tall enough to reach
his mother's hand armed up, once upon a time. What happened
to all those weapons?"

Riverwalker explained, "When the Protector took over,
times got so bad that almost anybody with anything to sell sold it.
Weapons were a glut on the market. The steel got forged into other
things."

"And the Protector didn't care," Aridatha
said. "The Great General finally gave up trying to make her
see the point of maintaining arsenals in peacetime. I think it
won't be long now until she understands what he was talking
about."

Sleepy told us, "It isn't necessary to trust
Aridatha or Mogaba to test Jaicur's defenses. We're
expected to swing west toward the Naghir River. We'll make a
show of doing just that. But Blade, with the light cavalry, will
split off the rear of the column and loop back around eastward. The
hidden folk will find a route along which the horsemen can approach
Jaicur unobserved. In the meantime, the main force will turn again
and head for the Rock Road north of Jaicur. That ought to stir up
an ant's nest. And make Soulcatcher forget Jaicur completely
for a few days."

Why had Sleepy bothered calling the rest of us in? She had it
all worked out already. And pretty soundly, I thought.

Tobo said, "We do have a more immediate problem than that,
Sleepy. You brought General Singh in during the reanimation
ceremony. And he's been seen around camp. It's
inevitable that some of our outside visitors will be
Soulcatcher's creatures. And it's possible one of them
recognized him."

Sleepy admitted, "I didn't think fast enough.
I'm open to corrective suggestions."

"I'm already working on it. But I do want to warn
you. I don't think I can be a hundred percent successful in
identifying them and cutting them off."

"Then you'd better consider what would be the best
way to warn the other conspirators in Taglios, hadn't
you?"

Aridatha said, "Ghopal and the Great General won't
be taken unawares. The Protector possesses no means of traveling
faster than the rumor of her coming. When she heads for Taglios
they'll know before she gets there. And what she brings with
her will betray her intentions."

I nodded. The reasoning seemed sound. And you did have to be
really sneaky to outfox Mogaba. Soulcatcher was not sneaky these
days. She had developed the habit of just bulling straight ahead
because she was the biggest power around.

Sleepy elected to assume a stance which made it look like we
were just going to sit and rest. But Tobo scouted the country north
of Gharhawnes in ever greater detail, sometimes even going out in
person, when he went flying with Shukrat.

The two of them were
getting very chummy.

In private I observed, "This is getting distinctly weird.
We're allies with Soulcatcher against our daughter and Kina.
We're allies with the traitor Mogaba against your sister.
We're allies with a demigod whose price for supporting us is
that we murder him."

Lady chuckled weakly. "You did say it has a mythic
ring."

"You know something? It's got me scared."

She
stared at nothing, waiting for me to explain.

"Scared in a generalized way, not scared like when
we're in a fight. Scared of the shape the future might
take." I had a bad, bad feeling. Because on the surface
everything looked just too marvelous for the Black Company.


Chapter 59 

With the Middle Army: When Guests Arrived

The Goblin
creature proved difficult to catch. What should have taken just a
few days took two weeks and, in the end, necessitated
Soulcatcher's personal intervention--with, to her chagrin,
considerable coaching from the shadowy cat thing she could never
quite see and never quite ambush and bind to her own service.

In the meantime she amused herself with the girl.

The Daughter of Night was imprisoned in a cage inside
Soulcatcher's tent. That was the largest and most
ostentatious tent in the midway camp. The girl had been stripped
naked, then had been decorated with a variety of chains and charms.
She would not be guarded by or even approached by anyone male.
Soulcatcher knew only too well how men could be manipulated by the
women of her blood.

Though the girl did not seem interested in listening,
Soulcatcher said, "To this day I'm not quite sure how
you and that old man managed to get away from me. But I have some
suspicions. And it won't happen again. You're far too
important to your mother to be running around loose." The
voice Soulcatcher selected was annoyingly pedantic.

The girl did not respond. She was alone in her own reality. This
was not her first time as a prisoner of someone who planned to use
her. She could be patient. Her moment would come. Someone would
slip up. An impressionable guard would be assigned. Something.
Somewhere, sometime, she would have an opportunity to deceive
someone into loving her long enough to want to set her free.

The girl's continued indifference pricked Soulcatcher into
trying to hurt her with news she had wanted to reserve.
"He's dead, you know. Your old man. Narayan Singh. He
was strangled. They threw his body in a cesspit."

That blow did strike home. But after an initial flinch and a
brief, black look the Daughter of Night lowered her eyes and
settled back into her pose of patient indifference.

Soulcatcher laughed. "Your freak Goddess has abandoned
you."

To which the girl offered her only spoken response since her
capture. "All their days are numbered." Which was like
a slap in Soulcatcher's face. It was one of those slogans
Black Company-inspired graffitists had used to taunt her for
years.

Soulcatcher snatched a whip, flailed away without doing the girl
much harm. The cage itself prevented that.

Someone shouted for Soulcatcher's attention from outside
the entrance to her tent. In that respect her soldiers were
well-trained. They did not bother her with trivia.

Responding, Soulcatcher found a gaggle of soldiers with a dead
man on a crude litter. The corpse was twisted. Its features were
severely distorted. Raindrops slid off the ruined face like tears.
"You," she said, picking a man. "Tell it."
A cavalryman covered with mud, he must have been on picket
duty.

"This man came up from the south. He gave the proper
recognition signs. He told us that he was bringing you important
news about traitors but wouldn't say anything
else."

"He arrived healthy? How did he get this way?"

"Just before we got to camp he stood up in his stirrups
and screamed. His horse reared and threw him. After he hit the
ground he shuddered and twitched and made gurgling noises trying to
scream. And then he died."

"Traitors?" No doubt there would be many of those to
pay off before this played out. These situations brought them out
from under every rock and bush.

"That's all he said, ma'am."

"Bring him inside. It's possible I can still get a
little something out of him. Be careful where you track your
mud." She stepped aside, even held the flap for the soldiers.
Reluctantly, a few found courage enough to bring the body forward.
Soulcatcher's soldiers shared a common opinion that it was
not good to catch the Protector's eye. These stepped
carefully, leaving as little mud and moisture as possible.

In a merry young voice Soulcatcher observed, "You must all
have mothers."

Soulcatcher had the corpse partially stripped, disassembling its
apparel thread by thread, when there was another disturbance
outside the tent entrance. Irked, she responded, hoping this would
be the news she had been awaiting so long: that Goblin had been
captured at last.

As she was about to open up she caught motion from the corner of
her eye. She spun. For an instant she thought she glimpsed a tiny
man, maybe eight inches tall, ducking down behind the corpse.

The racket outside remained insistent.

It was not the news she wanted. The soldiers there--they always
came in groups--pushed one of their number forward. "A courier
just came in, ma'am. The enemy is on the move again.
Westward."

Mogaba had called it right, then. "When did this
start?"

"The courier will be with you in a minute, ma'am.
With dispatches. He had some physical needs he couldn't put
off before he could see you. But the command staff insisted you get
the main news immediately."

In a casual tone, Soulcatcher observed, "The drizzle seems
to be letting up."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Get that courier here as fast as possible."

"Yes, ma'am."

The reports from the south did indeed have the rested Black
Company forces moving westward but not on the track previously
anticipated. Part of their journey would have to be made without
the benefits of roads, over rough terrain.

Soulcatcher said, "They must be striking for Balichore by
the shortest route. Why? Can anyone tell me what's special
about Balichore?" Soulcatcher controlled a sprawling empire
she knew only a little about.

After an extended silence someone tentatively suggested,
"That's the farthest upriver heavy barge traffic
travels. Cargos have to be portaged and loaded on smaller boats or
onto wagons."

Someone else recalled, "There's some kind of problem
with rocks in the river. A whatchamacallit. Cataract. The Liberator
once ordered a canal built around it but the project was
abandoned . . . "

A couple of pokes in the ribs were necessary before the speaker
recalled who was responsible for the neglect of public works in
recent times.

Soulcatcher did not respond, however. She concentrated on the
transport idea.

A large portion of the Company had barged up the Naghir River
after fleeing Taglios five years ago. Could this new Captain be in
a rut? Or was she thinking she could catch Taglios by surprise,
from the river side, where there were no walls and no defensive
works and the peoples of those poorer quarters tended toward
nostalgic recollections of the Prahbrindrah Drah, the Radisha and
even the Liberator.

Soulcatcher asked, "Does anyone happen to know how long it
takes to get a barge down the Naghir, through the delta channels,
and upriver to Taglios?" She knew barges manned by veteran
crews traveled day and night, unlike soldiers afoot or on
horseback.

Another disturbance at the entrance arose before anyone produced
a reliable answer.

The drizzle had ended, she discovered. Yet the men demanding
attention were covered with mud. And they had brought her a
present.

"For me? And it's not even my birthday."

Goblin was a present who looked way the worse for use. He was
bound and gagged. His head and hands were wrapped in rags as well.
His captors had been determined to take no chances.

Soulcatcher gloated. "He stumbled into one of my traps,
didn't he?"

"Yes he did, ma'am."

There were hundreds of those out there, taking many forms.
Soulcatcher had begun to put them out as soon as it had become
evident that the new, improved Goblin could evade the best efforts
of her soldiers. "He's still alive, isn't
he?" If he was dead her concern that he might have allowed
himself to be caught would slide down her list of worries.

"Your instructions were perfectly clear,
ma'am."

Soulcatcher memorized that man's face. He was mocking her
behind a mask of rectitude. She preferred open defiance. That she
could crush without mystifying anyone. "Take the mask and gag
off. Set him up over here." The Daughter of Night,
Soulcatcher noted, was interested enough to forget to hide her
interest.

She could not know the little wizard's significance, could
she?

No. Impossible. The girl was just doing what she did whenever
anything happened inside the tent. She paid attention because she
might learn something useful.

Soulcatcher waited until she judged that Goblin was sufficiently
recovered. She told him, "Your former brothers really
don't like turncoats, do they?"

Goblin stared at her with eyes colder, deeper and more remote
than those of the Daughter of Night. He did not reply.

She stepped closer. Her mask was just a foot from his face. She
purred, "They came to me for help settling your
account."

Goblin twitched but remained silent. He did try to look
around.

He smiled when he glimpsed the Daughter of Night.

Soulcatcher said, "They told me all about it, little man.
They told me what you are now. They expect me to just kill you
because of what you did to my foot. They really just want you
dead." She rubbed her gloved hands together. "But I
think I'm going to be a lot cruder." She giggled.

"All their days are numbered," Goblin said in a
whisper. The voice borrowing the taunt only vaguely resembled that
of the man who had gone down into the earth to challenge the Dark
Mother.

"Some more closely than others." Soulcatcher's
voice was old and emotionless. Her right hand lashed out, sliced
across Goblin's face. Blades a half inch long on the ends of
her fingers destroyed his eyes and the bridge of his nose. He
shrieked, at first as much in surprise as in pain.

The Protector turned on the men who had brought the prisoner in.
"Bring me another cage like the one the brat is in."
The cage did in fact exist already. Such had been her certainty
that she would capture Goblin.

The blacksmith had orders to create three more, suitable for
housing her sister, her sister's husband, and that
treacherous Willow Swan.

Later, in Taglios, she meant to work with a glassblower to
bottle them all so they could be displayed outside the entrance to
her palace. They would be kept alive and fed until they drowned in
their own ordure.

Such was the fate that the Dominator often bestowed upon his
most important enemies, in his time.


Chapter 60 

Gharhawnes: Tobo and the Voroshk

The Howler
certainly kept busy. He completed his first functional
four-passenger flying carpet two days after the soldiers marched
westward. Gharhawnes seemed deserted, though there were enough of
us around to bloody a bunch of noses the morning the former tenant
took a notion to steal his home back.

Sleepy had a dozen carpets on order, from single-rider scouts to
a monster she hoped would carry twenty soldiers. I do not know who
she expected to fly them. Only Howler and Tobo--and, possibly, the
Voroshk--had the power to manage the things.

I insisted that we have a couple of modest-sized carpets first.
Those should not take too long to make and would be the size most
useful to us right away. And since I was in charge of the
left-behinds and the Dejagore strike I got what I wanted. Well, I
got the one carpet.

Tobo had the flying post thing figured out, too. Both Shukrat
and Arkana seemed eager to get along now. One or the other would
allow Tobo to borrow her post when he wanted to run out to visit
Sleepy, which he did by night so he would not be seen from the
ground. I never felt comfortable when he did that. We had too many
potentially unpleasant and unfriendly people back here in the
manor. Including a lot of hostages from the leading families of the
region.

Both Magadan and Gromovol were increasingly determined not to be
won over, each for his own reasons. I told Magadan,
"I'd be tempted to send you two home just so I
don't have to worry about what's going on behind my
back," I was not worried, really. Tobo's supernatural
friends saw everything.

Magadan told me, "I don't want to go home. Home no
longer exists. I want to be free."

"Sure. You Voroshk showed what you can do when
you're free. I've spent my life killing people like
you. That's people who believe it's their destiny to
make slaves out of people like me. I'm in a war with another
one of them right now. I'm not about to cut you loose and let
you start making peoples' lives miserable, too."

None of which was absolutely true but it did sound good. And
Magadan bought it. Some. The part that really was true. That I
would kill him before I turned him loose on the world.

That was the moment when he decided he might want to go home
after all. From then on he brought that possibility up each time we
crossed paths. The hidden folk said he was sincere. He was trying
to get the other kids to go along with swapping what knowledge they
had for an escort back across the place of glittering stone.

Lady did not believe it. She thought we should put him and
Gromovol down because of the trouble they could cause.

My sweetie has a very direct approach to problem-solving.

Sometimes I do find what little conscience I retain a damnable
handicap.

Howler, though, did successfully work his way out of the top ten
on my shit list. Tobo's appeal to Shivetya had resulted in
word from the golem saying he did have the ability to intervene in
Howler's screaming and shrinking problems. Shivetya did not
have much of a reputation as a liar so even Howler took him at his
word. After which the smelly little wizard became extremely
cooperative.

Though we still had no cause to trust his long run intentions.
Nor he any call to trust ours, either.

Lady cornered Tobo. "We have a dangerous situation, here.
And like a pet cobra it's going to bite us someday. We have
to do something."

The boy sounded puzzled. "What're you talking about?
Something about what?"

"Those Voroshk. They aren't as strong or as bright
as we first thought but there are four of them and only one of
you."

"But they're not going
to . . . "

"Pardon me for being an old cynic," I said.
"Magadan keeps telling me, in so many words, that he wants to
be anywhere that isn't here with us. And there's at
least the implication that he'll do whatever it takes if we
don't help him go home. And Gromovol is going to be trouble
eventually because his personality requires it. If you go out to
visit Sleepy or just on a flying date the rest of us are stuck here
with no better hope than the Howler."

"And speaking of flying," Lady said,
"don't you ever go out with both of those girls again.
Hush! You're only familiar with the women you've grown
up around. I'm telling you right now that Arkana is exactly
like Magadan. But she has one more weapon than he does and she
means to use it to cloud your mind."

"But . . . "

"Shukrat I'm not sure about. There's a chance
Shukrat is exactly what she seems."

I agreed. The kid was likable. And according to Tobo the hidden
folk agreed. They offered no reason not to trust her.

Tobo was not used to arguing with anybody but his mother, even
when he thought he was right. He did not want to think ill of
Arkana but would not fight us.

Lady demanded, "So how do we make sure of them? You have
to think of something before we move against Dejagore. We'll
be scattered, distracted and extremely vulnerable then. And because
you spend time with the girls, out amongst the rest of us, all four
will know what's going on. They can plan
accordingly."

Again Tobo did not get a word in before I said, "I would
be."

Lady reminded him, "You've never been a
prisoner."

"Now there's a joke. I was born a prisoner. A
prisoner of a prophecy by an old woman who died years before I was
born. A prisoner of the expectations of all you people. Gods, I
wish Hong Tray was wrong and I could've been a normal
kid."

"There aren't any normal kids, Tobo," I told
him. "Just kids who fake it better than the rest of us
do."

"And that name. Tobo. That was my baby name. Why does
everybody still call me that? Why didn't we ever have a
ceremony to give me a grown-up name?"

Nyueng Bao do that. And Tobo was years past the appropriate
birthday.

Lady told him, "You'll have to take that up with
Uncle Doj. Meantime, the other thing needs addressing right now.
Blade is moving already. In three more days Sleepy will curl back
to the northeast and it'll be too late to stop anything. I
want to be sure that we won't get stabbed in the back just
when things get exciting."

An hour after we nagged him Tobo asked Shukrat to go flying. He
borrowed Arkana's log. Arkana was not pleased. When an hour
later she told me Magadan had said he did not mind if she used his
post to join Shukrat and Tobo I told her, "But I mind. If you
need to talk to Tobo do it when he gets back."

Arkana was the brightest of the Voroshk. She recognized that
things were tightening up.

When Tobo did return he stayed just long enough to round up
Magadan. He took Magadan flying. It was the first time Magadan had
been aloft since he had entered our keeping. He did not appear
excited, which I would have expected.

They returned within a half hour. Magadan's hand-me-downs,
appropriated from Gharhawnes' former occupants, were ragged.
He looked like he had been in a fight and the other guy had kicked
his butt. A good long way.

Tobo gave instructions for Magadan to be isolated, then found
Arkana and took her for a fly.

The ice queen, I noted, had replaced her confiscated robes with
native garb that served her to considerable visual advantage.

"Down, boy!" Lady said.

"It's a good thing I didn't run into her
before I met you, isn't it?"

That earned me a not entirely playful swat.

Arkana came back looking rougher than Magadan had. And she was
not smiling.

Tobo had Arkana put in with Magadan. He collected Gromovol.

Gromovol was not interested in going anywhere with Tobo. Tobo
insisted. They were not gone long. Once they returned Tobo had the
Voroshk returned to their quarters. He gathered their flying posts
in the main hall. Lady and I joined him.

I asked, "What was that all about?"

"I took them out and dueled with them. Except for
Shukrat."

I stopped Lady before she explained--probably at great length--how
unsmart doing that could have proven. Sometimes she could fuss as
much as Sahra. I said, "I'm sure there was a
reason."

"I wanted to find out just how much we really do have to
fear from them."

"And?"

"They're frauds. The only power they really have is
what they draw from their post and their clothing. Without those
even Shukrat isn't as powerful as One-Eye was at the end.
Gromovol is about Uncle Doj's equal. Lady, even as weak as
you are right now, you could manage any of them but
Shukrat."

I snorted. "I guess that would explain why
Gromovol's pop was anxious to get the kids back. Were most of
the Voroshk limited talents? Were most of them carried by a few
strong members of the clan?"

"I'd guess that's likely. The point, though,
is that for right now there's a better chance our Voroshk
will attack us with knives than with sorcery." He looked at
us, saw no obvious eagerness to embrace his theory.
"Don't you think that if they had any real power they
would've used it to try to escape?"

I realized that he was upset. He had believed he was making
friends with the Voroshk. Our worries had led him to test that and
he had learned that his friends were not as close as he had
hoped.

"You're telling us we don't have to kill them
to be safe," Lady said.

"That, too."

"You have the Unknown Shadows at your command and you
didn't figure this out until today?" Lady can find
something to suspect in everything. I would suggest we retire and
settle down somewhere where we do not have to worry all the time
but she would suspect me of ulterior motives.

"I've thought it for a long time," he admitted
sullenly. "But the hidden folk can't report things that
they don't hear. The Voroshk don't discuss their
weaknesses. Or much of anything else, actually. Because of their
present situation nobody likes anybody very much
anymore."

I said, "I didn't want to kill them, anyway. Maybe
I'd like to thump Gromovol a little, now and then,
but . . . "

"So that's settled. Heck, turn them loose if you
want. Once they've had a dose of the real world they'll
come back. Meantime, let me get to work on these things."

Lady asked, "You've finally found their secret? You
can make more?"

"I've learned how to change who they recognize as
their master. None of the Voroshk know how the posts are made.
They're not even sure of the theory behind them. I know more
than they do just because I've studied the things. I
don't yet know how they pull their magical power. But I
don't know how I do that, either. Someday I will know. But
it'll be a long, slow, dangerous process, finding out.
They're booby-trapped."

I told him, "Life is booby-trapped, kid."

As we left the hallway Lady was speculating on whether the
original Voroshk had invented their magics or if they had just
stolen them from an ingenious but unwary predecessor. I did not
care, so long as no Voroshk made my life more difficult than it
already was.


Chapter 61 

The Taglian Territories: Nightfliers in
Dejagore

Three flying posts
formed the goose flock formation. Tobo had the point with Willow
Swan riding pillion. Swan was in the throes of an apparently severe
religious relapse, muttering a continuous polysyllabic one-word
prayer. With his attitude toward heights he would be bruising Tobo
by hanging on so tight. His eyes would be closed so intently that
he would have muscle cramps all the way back to his ankles.

Lady and Shukrat flew the other posts. Lady had Aridatha Singh
aboard behind her. Shukrat carried Uncle Doj.

Murgen, Thai Dei and I shared the flying carpet with the Howler,
whose shrieks were being contained inside a big glass bowl sort of
thing Lady had put over his head. It worked well enough to save
trouble with people who did not know we were coming.

Murgen and Thai Dei were along only because Sahra had to be
placated. She did not want her baby going into harm's way
alone. People everywhere were irked because the boy's father
and uncle had had to be flown back to Gharhawnes before the raid
could be launched. But Sahra had been stubborn and loud and Sleepy
had given in rather than lose a friend.

Sahra's recollections of and fears of Dejagore remained
abiding and debilitating.

I hoped Murgen and Thai Dei handled it better, though at takeoff
time Murgen had been sweaty, pallid, shaking and appeared to be
having trouble breathing. And Thai Dei had seemed more
self-engrossed than ever.

I had spoken to each alone and had tried telling each that I was
counting on him to keep an eye on the other and carry him if the
emotional strain became too much. I have found that assigning major
external responsibilities like that can get many of my brothers
through times of deep emotional stress.

Howler kept the carpet in the pocket of the formation. We moved
northward at a pace that created a cold wind strong enough to pull
the tears out of my eyes. Murgen and I occupied the carpet's
rear corners. I told him, "I'd forgotten just how much
I don't like this. Why didn't I send some of those
eager young bucks from Hsien?"

"Because you're just like every other recent Captain
of the Company. You've got to have your pointy nose right in
the middle of things so you can make sure things get done your
way."

Up ahead Tobo lifted the shutter on a red lantern. He winked the
light several times. There was an answering signal from the ground,
miles off our track and much farther forward than I expected.

Blade and the cavalry had made good time and were already in the
ring of hills surrounding Dejagore. The moon would rise in an hour.
It would provide the light they needed to filter through the hills
and descend the inner slope.

We passed over the rim and discovered the scattered lights of
Dejagore. We slowed to a crawl. The flying posts gathered together.
Aridatha tried to explain to Tobo where we needed to go.

I told Murgen, "You should've gone with Tobo. You
know Dejagore better than anyone else."

"Dejagore twenty-five years ago, maybe. It's a whole
new city since my day. Aridatha belongs with him. It's only
been weeks since he was there."

Few details could be distinguished by starlight but as we moved
closer the walls and main buildings matched my recollections almost
exactly.

The logs formed up in line astern with Lady and Aridatha
leading. Howler fell in behind. We resumed moving.

Ten minutes later we were on the ground. Five minutes after that
Aridatha hustled us into his brother's shop.

Sugriva Singh seemed to be a shorter and older version of
Aridatha. He had done well for himself. He had the whole downstairs
of a building for his business and everything above for his
family--none of whom were ever in evidence.

Sugriva's past good fortune assured his deep displeasure
at our invasion. All of a sudden he had ten villains in amongst the
vegetables and only his brother and the bountiful little blonde did
not look willing to roast him for a prank. He had a great deal to
lose here. And maybe more to lose if he did not cooperate. The
Strangler cult was hated in the extreme in Dejagore. Just a whisper
about his relationship to the living saint of the Deceivers would
destroy him and just about anyone who had ever spoken to him.

Aridatha dispensed with introductions. Sugriva did not need to
know his visitors. Chances were, he recognized a few of us
anyway.

Aridatha told his brother, "Our father is dead. He was
murdered a few weeks ago. Strangled."

Sugriva was the elder by a decade. He remembered the Narayan
Singh who had sold vegetables and doted on his children before the
invasion of the Shadowmasters. He was stricken as Aridatha had not
been stricken. "And that should be no surprise, should it? Is
that what you mean?" Sugriva said through tears that might
have been due as much to rage as to pain.

He needed a few minutes to collect himself.

To his credit Sugriva Singh did not rail against the inevitable.
He understood exactly how his arm was being twisted and, though
events were not going to proceed quite like Aridatha had led him to
expect during his previous visit, he chose to cooperate. He wanted
to get it over as fast as he could, then he would pray that the new
administration would be as indifferent to him as he was to the one
presently in place.

Things were not exactly working out the way Aridatha had hoped
they would, either.

Sugriva said, "You haven't chosen the best night to
do this. The moon is going to expose anyone moving toward the city
from outside."

Tobo chuckled. "You might be surprised. The night is our
friend, brother Sugriva."

"I rather expect you'll find that my father believed
the same thing, young man."

And his father's son? Sugriva had been unhappy, even
angry, when we turned up, but not really surprised. What kind of
vegetable dealer was not surprised to be wakened in the night?
Inside a city that closed its gates with fanatical devotion when
the sun's lower limb touched the western hilltops?

Could Aridatha's big brother be some sort of crook?

Aridatha told his brother, "The reason we're
troubling you is that we don't know how the gatekeeping is
managed."

"You told me before. I looked into it. There's a
company of soldiers assigned to each gate. The west gate is the
most closely controlled because it sees more traffic than the other
three put together." One of Dejagore's quirks was that
most of today's roads to the city joined outside it, to the
west, so there was not much traffic elsewhere. The north and south
gates were used only by people involved in agriculture and its
produce.

"The east gate looks like it should be the easiest to
seize and control," Sugriva said. A true road did connect
with the east gate but there was little out that way but a few
distant villages. "The guards are slackers, at all levels.
None of them are natives. None of them are old enough to remember
the last time Jaicur was attacked." Sugriva had adopted the
local accent and the local name for the city when he had assumed a
Dejagoran name.

The trouble with the east gate was that Blade was west of
Dejagore. But he was well ahead of schedule. There was time, before
sunrise, if he hustled.

Tobo suggested, "Lady, why don't you go tell Blade
that it has to be the east gate?"

"Because I'm going to be getting dressed."

Widowmaker and Lifetaker were coming to the party. They had been
away for far too long.

Half a minute later Shukrat said, "I guess it's time
to find out if you can really trust me, Tobo."

I jumped in before the boy could speak. "I suppose so.
Tell Blade not to waste time. We need as much of the night as we
can get. And we won't stay unnoticed long once we start. Tell
him we'll be waiting when he gets to the gate."

A smile tickled Shukrat's freckled, almost pudgy face. She
bounced up onto her toes and gave Tobo a peck on the cheek. Bold,
bold behavior by any standard in this part of the world. They must
do things differently among the Voroshk.

She bounced away. Tobo was completely flustered. I grinned till
Lady poked me in the ribs. Evidently I was enjoying the bouncing
part a little too much.

Murgen said, "I suggest we get to work here, folks. I
don't want to be inside these walls a minute longer than I
have to." He was holding it together but the strain was
obvious.

Thai Dei was frazzled, too, and with even better reason. A lot
of people very close to him had died here during the siege. No
matter how tough a man pretends to be, such losses gnaw at his
soul. Unless he is not human at all.

"The man has a point," I said. "Start getting
ready."

Lady and I had the most to do. We had a big show to put on. We
retreated into a small separate room, colder than the main shop. As
we strove to turn ourselves into walking nightmares I asked,
"Hon, have you really got that post-riding stuff figured
out?"

"It isn't that hard. Except for staying on. Any
idiot could do it. There are some little black rods and slidy
things you move around. You go up or down, or faster or slower, or
whatever, when you do. Why?"

"It occurs to me that it might be better for us and him
both if we got Aridatha back to Taglios. He's been gone a
long time. Mogaba needs to have him back where he can show him off
before news of tonight's business gets around."

She did not stop donning the Lifetaker armor but did look at me
in a way that I do not see often. It was like she was looking right
through me, at all the secret places inside. It was frightening
sometimes.

"All right. We'll have to move fast if I'm
going to be aloft before daylight."

"Will the log make it that far?" Not knowing how
those things worked I did not know what you might have to feed it,
like a horse. The posts did seem to work on a different principle
than Howler's flying carpets, which required a strong-willed,
powerful sorcerer to drive them. They demanded his undivided
attention every moment they were aloft.

"I'm sure it will. What do you want me to tell
Mogaba?"

The long-time taunt, "My brother unforgiven," came
to mind, along with, "All their days are numbered." But
this was not the time.


Chapter 62 

Dejagore: The Occupation

My original
intention had been to make a huge show of our invasion. I do like a
big ration of drama. Lightning. Thunder. Fireworks. But I waited
until we had the gate open to let it start.

Early on there were alarms from the south wall as a tide of
darkness and whispers passed by. But no sentry saw a single
horsemen. They spied only vague shapes that stirred secret fears of
things far darker and crueler than any conquering soldier.

The city was restless and troubled but remained unaware of our
presence. It did sense approaching change.

The thunder and lightning came after Blade's men started
coming through the gate, six hundred men in Hsien's strange
armor, under strict orders not to betray their humanity until the
city was captured. Most Dejagorans were Gunni. The Gunni believed
in demons who could take human shape to make war on men. And most
of the people of the outlying Taglian Territories had by now heard
that the Company was allied with ghosts and devils.

Each soldier had a bamboo wand carrying a banner affixed to his
back. The color of the banner declared the man's unit
affiliation while characters painted on the banner stated that
unit's martial slogan. Widowmaker and Lifetaker rode at the
head of the invading column. She carried a burning sword.
Widowmaker carried One-Eye's spear, which was crawling with
maggots of light. His shoulders bore a salt-and-pepper set of
oversized ravens.

And, even so, much of the city slept on.

Ugly worms of fire crawled over our hideous armor.

Bannermen marched ahead flailing big flags supposed to be our
personal ensigns.

Witnesses brought out by the flash and boom and the rattle of
horseshoes remembered old stories and ran away weeping.

Yet most of the city slept on.

Doj, Murgen, Thai Dei and Swan remained at the gate, holding the
hostages we had taken there. Aridatha stayed out of sight at his
brother's place. Howler, Tobo and Shukrat circled high above.
Howler's glass bowl continued to contain his shrieks. We
hoped he would remain a secret for a while.

The real fireworks began when we reached the citadel, where the
Protector's still-sleepy governor deluded himself into
thinking he could refuse to surrender and make it stick.

Fireballs flew. The citadel gate exploded. Holes appeared in its
walls. People inside began to scream.

Every dark place in the streets had something moving inside it.
Hundreds of somethings, many of them vaguely familiar in those
instants when anything could be clearly discerned.

Those flooded in through the broken gate of the citadel. They
weaseled through the holes in its walls.

Lifetaker and Widowmaker followed moments later.

The terrified inhabitants of the tower put up no fight at all.
Our sole injury was a broken arm suffered by a dimwit who tripped
over his own big feet and rolled down a stair.

Lady and I stood atop the citadel. The city below still was not
fully aware that it had been conquered. I said, "It hurt a
lot less getting here tonight than it did last time."

"That was the night we made Booboo."

"Which was a real booboo."

"Not funny."

"That was the night One-Eye made the enemy that stalked us
for twenty years, too."

"We'll make new enemies this time. I have to go if I
want to have any hope of getting Aridatha into Taglios
unnoticed."

"I don't think you can, tonight. Not without flying
so damned fast the wind rips the skin off your face."

"I'll see if Tobo can't help."

It was difficult to kiss her good-bye. We still wore all the
costume armor.


Chapter 63 

The Taglian Territories: The Middle Army

The
Protector's reconnaissance troops had warned her that
something unusual was taking shape. The warning confirmed her
suspicions. Her nonhuman spies had been having almost no success
keeping track of the enemy. Which meant the enemy was taking pains
to be less visible.

Soulcatcher raised the state of alert and stepped up training.
She redoubled her own personal preparations.

When word of the disaster at Dejagore reached her--one lone rider
managing to get through with the news--she had known for fourteen
hours already that the Company main force had left its westward
track and had begun hustling up a line that would slice between her
Middle Army and the newly orphaned force outside Dejagore.

That would evaporate within days, she presumed. Many of those
soldiers came out of the city itself--a disproportionate percentage
of them officers--while the rest would now hear the call of the
harvest much more loudly.

What the hell had happened down there? The messenger had brought
very few details, just word that the city had awakened to find
itself occupied. The invaders had been swift and thorough. They
seemed to have had outstanding intelligence. Heavy sorcery might
have been involved.

"The next fight won't be so one-sided," she
promised her officers. "Next fight they'll have to deal
with me. Me like they haven't seen me in a long, long
time." She was angry and awake and no longer handicapped by
any shred of boredom. She was feeling more alive and filled with
hatred and bitterness than she had for a generation.

Within hours her new mood had electrified those around her.

Officers who failed to become equally electrified quickly
suffered permanent replacement.


Chapter 64 

Dejagore: The Orphaned Army

After losing their
base at Dejagore the generals of the fading, confused army nearby
ineptly tried to invest the city in a way that would not result in
economic disaster. Then, six days after the fall, news came that
the enemy main force was rushing straight toward them.

There had been skirmishes with the cavalry occupying Dejagore.
Those had not gone well for the locals. And now ten times as many
well-disciplined, perfectly-armed, trained killers were about to
fall on them.

A third of the army went home under cover of darkness the night
after the news arrived. Those who stayed endured almost continuous
psychological torments by things they could never see.

The murderous army from the south never materialized. That was

never necessary. The Dejagoran soldiers in the Taglian force all
deserted. The cavalrymen occupying Dejagore scattered the
army's steadfast core without outside help.


Chapter 65 

Taglios: The Palace

Mogaba's
level of discomfort--he would not think the word
"fear"--had risen substantially since Aridatha's
return. The stakes kept rising. The risks kept expanding. Lady had
been seen by Palace servants. So far those believed they had seen
the Protector, whose comings and goings were secretive and
unpredictable. But someday Soulcatcher might overhear some mention
and know she could not have been two places at once. Nor would she
believe the manifestation to have been one of the haunts now
regularly seen in the maze of passageways for which the Palace was
famed.

Mogaba told Ghopal and Aridatha, "I'm tempted to
drop everything and run."

Ghopal asked, "Yeah? Where would you go?" It might
not be as personal but his doom was every bit as certain as
Mogaba's was if the Black Company reconquered Taglios and
restored the ruling family. Life would turn cruel for any Shadar
who had belonged to the Greys.

"Exactly." Mogaba ran his palm over the top of his
head. Keeping it shaved required less and less work. "So I
remind myself what honor demands."

Aridatha said little. He had not talked much since his return.
Mogaba understood. Singh had seen things he did not want to believe
were true. He had learned things about the stakes that left him
paralyzed with indecision. There appeared to be no road leading
toward the light. Wherever he turned he beheld another face of the
darkness.

It was important to Aridatha that he do what he perceived to be
the right thing.

Singh's visit with his brother had fueled him with a
determination to offset some of the evil his father had done.

Aridatha was Gunni by faith but his character was much more
suited to the Vehdna religion. He thought this was the life where
wrongs had to be made right.

Mogaba said, "The news from the south is uniformly
disastrous. The Black Company is meeting very little resistance.
They have superior sorcery, superior weaponry, superior troops,
equipment and leadership. Not to mention intelligence so good
we're wasting our time trying to keep anything secret. So it
seems our fates actually depend on how fast those people can get
here. The Protector won't stop them. They'll pluck the
strings of her ego, tickle her pride, and just when she thinks
she's ready to make her kill they'll hit her in the
back of the head with a sledgehammer she'll never see coming.
You have to be more than just powerful to deal with those people.
You have to be more than clever and treacherous. You need to be
psychic."

Ghopal asked, "Then why don't we ride down there and
take charge?" He smirked.

"Not funny. Two reasons. First, she doesn't want me
to. She still thinks we can get them into a pocket between us. I
don't know how. And, more importantly, if I got anywhere near
her there'd be no way I could hide my thoughts and no
opportunity to put them into effect before she could protect
herself. You two, you might be a little luckier."

Ghopal observed, "The city is remarkably calm in spite of
the news."

Tidings of the fall of Dejagore were making the rounds but
hardly anyone seemed to feel that the Protector was in any peril
herself. There had been no disorders. Graffiti was becoming more
common, though. Mostly the same old taunts, though rajadharma was
becoming more common. Then there was a new one: You shall lie in
the ashes ten thousand years eating only wind. And one not seen for
years had reappeared: Thi Kim is coming.

No one knew quite what that meant. Maybe not even its framers.
Some people thought "Thi Kim" might be a
Nyueng Bao phrase. In which case the name could mean something
like Walking Murder.

If it was not Nyueng Bao it made even less sense. Or no sense at
all.

Aridatha asked, "If we do nothing to support her and she
gets beaten, how do we defend ourselves?"

Mogaba said, "I'm going to tell you right now, you
don't have a problem unless the Protector wins. The Company
and the royals have no quarrel with you. You've done a good
job running the City Battalions. If you just sit on your hands
you'll probably end up inheriting my job."

Aridatha shrugged. "You must have talked about these
things when she was here."

"Oh, yes. She said nobody would chase me very hard if I
had sense enough to take off before they occupied the
city."

Ghopal asked, "They're that confident? That they can
discount your help? What about me?"

"She's that confident. Which is probably too
confident. She didn't say anything about you. She
didn't know who you were. She suggested that if you think you
have reasons to fear the return of the royals you should join me in
looting as much treasure as you can before you run away."

"Shadar don't abandon their oaths of
service."

Aridatha, with little to fear from defeat, suggested,
"Let's just do our jobs. Like we've always done.
And see what opportunities Fortune places in our hands."

Sarcastically, Ghopal responded, "Of course. The Black
Company and the Protector could end up destroying each other. Like
a couple of rams getting their horns locked."

A consideration which left all three men thoughtful, with Mogaba
in particular reflecting on how fate might write the joke that
would end with that unexpected punchline.


Chapter 66 

The Taglian Territories: Midway Between

Oh, we looked
good, ten thousand strong, all lined up as if for a parade. Every
man wore his armor. Every man had his personal banner whipping in
the breeze. Every battalion wore its own color of armor. Every
weapon was perfectly honed and polished. Every horse was groomed
and caparisoned as though for review. Every standard was in place
and gloriously new. We were a general's wet dream, pretty and
dangerous, too.

The gang opposite us, though they outnumbered us three to one,
looked like they would be no challenge. Men over there were still
trying to find their assigned places in ranks.

Good as it all looked I had my doubts about the wisdom of
offering battle, however confident our guys were and however much
confidence the men opposite us lacked. But Sleepy wanted to crush
them fast and harry Soulcatcher back to Taglios where, because she
would be hard-pressed, she might not be wary enough to elude ambush
by Mogaba and his henchmen.

She was assuming too much would go our way. When things are
going good is when you really have to watch your back.

But I was not the Captain. I could only advise, then do my part
in the show once a decision had been made.

Tobo was more confident than Sleepy was. He believed the enemy
only needed a nudge to crack. One vicious shock and they would
collapse. He guaranteed it.

Trumpets sounded the ready. Drums began to talk, counting the
cadence for the advance. A thousand men would remain in reserve.
Well behind them were the recruits we had acquired. Those
surrounded the Radisha and her brother, nominally forming the royal
lifeguard. They would be used only in desperation.

The trumpets sounded the advance. The ranks stepped out, lines
dressed, cadence perfect, weapons exactly on line. Positioned in
front of the wings, Lifetaker and Widowmaker lit off in blinding
flashes and began to advance themselves. But they halted before
they entered missile range.

From that closer vantage I could see that Soulcatcher had formed
her troops up in three successive forces with a hundred yards of
separation each between them. The frontline unit was the most
numerous but looked like the lowest quality. The second formation
appeared much more solid.

That was a device I understood, having used a variant myself.
But you have to be confident that your real fighters will not catch
the panic of the scrubs when they run away.

There were things going on behind Soulcatcher's third line
but they were too far away to be made out clearly.

Then the advancing soldiers made seeing much more difficult.
Then the next stage of enchantments surrounded me, concealing me
from enemy eyes, making it impossible for me to see anything
either.


Chapter 67 

The Taglian Territories: Inside the Middle
Army

This is going to
be tricky," Soulcatcher reminded staff officers compelled to
take her genius on trust. Her previous demonstration, during the
Kiaulune wars, had come before their time.

The enemy trumpets sounded the ready. His drums began to
rumble.

Soulcatcher said, "Once they sound the advance
they'll be too busy to spy on us."

The advance sounded.

"I want the word spread on the second line that the
collapse of the first line is part of my plan. Tell them it's
a deliberate ruse. I don't want anybody running because the
first line does. Tell them that anybody who does run is guaranteed
worm food. Then tell the third line the same thing about the first
and second lines. I want them to believe I'm luring the enemy
in where I can use sorcery to destroy them. And I want the reserves
backed off to the edge of the wood. Right away."

"But that means . . . "

"Forget the camp. If we don't win this fight the
camp won't matter. I want the reserves spread out along the
edge of the woods so they can collect up men who run away and get
them organized. But before they do that I want them in here to move
my guests back to the north bank of the creek."

Blank looks stared her way.

Anger began to creep into her voice. Anger they knew to be the
sort that soon saw corpses arriving on the cemetery ground outside
camp. When Soulcatcher was angry enough she would not let the Gunni
burn, and thus purify, the bodies of those she had slain.
"Form them at the edge of the woods! Ready to kill any
cowards!" Then in a calm, almost beatific voice she added,
"If the soldiers fail to rally and throw back the enemy their
generals won't long survive defeat." Soulcatcher had
very strong feelings about how this engagement should proceed.
"In fact, the wise general will make plans not to outlive his
standard bearer. His passing will be much less painful that
way."

She had been preparing for days. But she was compelled to fight
with flawed weapons. The most rigid control had to be
exercised.

"Get busy!" She stepped past the officers, left the
tent, climbed up a reviewing stand that would let her see the
action. As she took her place there the enemy, with the precision
of a drill team, collided with her forward deployment.

The slaughter was slighter than she had anticipated. The enemy
seemed content to shatter opposing formations. They did not pursue.
They halted, removed wounded, dressed their ranks and repaired
their equipment. And took their time doing it. Which pleased the
Protector. That meant more time for the beaten companies to collect
themselves at the edge of the wood.

Soulcatcher glanced back as men carried her prisoners'
cages out of her tent. Goblin, his eyes regenerated already,
offered her a little mocking salute. The girl looked straight at
her and smiled.

One more time and she would throw the brat to the soldiers for a
few hours. That would take the sass out of her.

The soldiers managing the removal seemed calm enough, despite
the terrified fugitives beginning to enter the camp.

Soulcatcher was irritated at herself for having overlooked the
chance that the fugitives might not flee all the way to the woods.
She should have had the palisade demolished.

No matter. Only a few would take refuge here.

She gave orders to seal the gates.

The enemy resumed his advance.

The second line gave a better account of itself but the outcome
was identical. The troops broke without doing much real damage to
the foe.

This time none of the fleeing soldiers got into the camp.

Once again the enemy stopped to handle his wounded and dress his
lines and repair his armor. The cavalry screening the enemy flanks
were having trouble holding back. Soulcatcher guessed that
discipline would crack once the third Taglian line fell apart.

Those idiots had better be ready back at the wood.

Soulcatcher left her vantage as the enemy sounded the advance
again. "Very businesslike, this new Captain. But how well
does she think on her feet?"

Very businesslike, Soulcatcher's personal removal to the
wood, where she growled new orders at her officers before she
retired to the big tent she had had prepared, as a pretended forest
getaway and as a place where she could meet messengers from the
allies who were trying to butcher her now. Goblin and the Daughter
of Night had been deposited there.

Both prisoners seemed amused by her arrival. As though they had
shared some particularly hysterical joke, entirely at her expense,
just a moment before she appeared.

Soulcatcher paid them no attention. She was much more concerned
about how troubled her sister would have grown because of the
absence of sorcery on the battlefield. If no one became too
suspicious for another fifteen
minutes . . . 


Chapter 68 

The Taglian Territories: Fire on the Middle
Ground

Behind the
brilliant fog of light masking Widowmaker I climbed down off my
horse, then clambered onto the Voroshk flying post I would share
with my former understudy, Murgen. The post had Magadan's
name painted on it in his native script. Over on the left,
Lifetaker, too, was preparing to soar with that noted devotee of
high flying, Willow Swan. All of the flying logs were ready to go
up, each surrounded by an absurd wicker and bamboo framework
carrying numerous makeshift attachments.

Somewhere back where I could not see them, Tobo and Howler were
getting ready to take up a flying carpet creaking under the weight
of warlike unpleasantries. The screaming wizard was still muttering
under his breath because he had been forced to reveal his flying
secrets to Tobo.

A huge volume of raw nastiness would be taken aloft, to be
launched either when Soulcatcher betrayed her location or our
attack began to bog down.

The latter did not happen. The evaporation of the Taglian front
line was a daydream come true. The second line lasted only a little
while longer. The third line, evidently comprised of the best and
most motivated of the Protector's troops, was more stubborn.
Having spent too much time too close to Soulcatcher myself, I could
imagine why the third force might have had a little extra
motivation. Soulcatcher was not a thoughtful, forgiving
commander.

Give her her due, though. She would not expect love or
forgiveness from anyone superior to her, either. In the world where
she had come of age that had been the norm. That world, of the
Domination, had demanded ruthlessness and cruelty. It had forgiven
neither kindness nor compassion.

The third line's stubbornness failed to withstand the
precision and confidence of our men. Fainthearts began to slip away
and run toward that distant treeline, where somebody appeared to be
rallying survivors.

The rout had only just begun when a dome of cardinal light
popped into existence in an instant, straight ahead. It faded in
seconds. I was making a clumsy effort to gain altitude when a
second dome of light, this time carmine, appeared and faded to my
left.

There were a half dozen more flashes, each in the family of
reds, before I felt confident that I was high enough and dared to
divert attention from the post's controls long enough to see
what Murgen had been babbling about throughout our climb.

The sorcery in progress appeared to have turned the earth a
uniform black. Upon that surface something kept painting red
flowers that spread from a pinpoint in an eye's blink, almost
black at the center but fading to flame yellow as the circle ended
its expansion at perhaps twelve yards in diameter. From on high
nothing but the sudden red chrysanthemums, blooming randomly, were
readily visible. The earth looked like some bleak gameboard upon
which a garden of deathflowers continue to blossom and gradually
fade.

Whatever was happening, it was passive. Not coming to us. The
sorcery had been in place already and was being tripped by our
advancing soldiers. Who were not getting off lightly.

Soulcatcher did not make herself evident anywhere.

Way off to my left Lady and Willow vanished behind smoke as all
the bamboo fireball launchers attached to their post sprayed the
Taglian camp. Dozens of fires broke out down there but the red
circles kept blooming amongst our soldiers.

I pushed my post forward half a mile. I told Murgen,
"Saturate the wood. She's in there somewhere. Where the
hell are my crows? They're never around when I need
them." They had disappeared during my climb to altitude.
Maybe they did not like getting too far from the surface of the
earth.

There was no sign of the Unknown Shadows anywhere. But I did not
expect to see signs. Tobo had sent most of the hidden folk away
last night, for their own safety.

You notice strange things in times of stress. I remarked the
absence of crows around the battlefield. A rather bizarre lacking
which I had not witnessed before, ever. But vultures had begun to
circle above the wood.

Murgen shouted something about the enemy taking heart from our
misfortune. I said, "Put the fireballs along the tree-line,
then." Which was really my task since I had to point the
Voroshk post where I wanted the fireballs to go.

Child Shukrat, better schooled in the use of the post, swept in
from the east, low, laying her fire down upon the Taglian line. She
wasted hardly a fireball.

Our ground advance halted. Sleepy did not withdraw but neither
was she willing to face any more killing sorcery.

I would not see how bad that had been until I was back on the
ground. Which was soon enough because once we exhausted our
fireball supply there was nothing more Murgen and I could do from
above.

I had no trouble imagining Soulcatcher over there in those woods
laughing her leathers off at how she had hurt us.

The Taglians launched one uncoordinated, inept counterattack
which turned disastrous when they began to run away again.
Soulcatcher's sorceries did not distinguish between friend
and foe, only between directions of travel.

We grounded well to the rear. I remounted my horse and went
forward. Soulcatcher's sorcery had been terrible. The site
where each flower of light had bloomed remained defined as a red so
dark it verged on black. The black itself was fading from around
the circles, trampled grass gradually becoming visible like winter
wheat sprouting. But weirder crops appeared within the circles.

Men, sunken into the earth, some only ankle deep, some up to
their hips and more. Frozen in the advance, still in their lines.
All suits of armor no longer tenanted by even a ghost of life.

Somebody had tried opening several suits. Inside there was
nothing but charred flesh and bone. A quick calculation suggested
we might have lost four or five hundred men to this horror, which
had taken place almost faster than it can be told.

"There's something wrong here," I said.
"Soulcatcher has stopped."

"What?" Murgen asked. He was probing a deadly
circle. He discovered that it was cool now and the visible surface
was no thicker than a fingernail. "What's that?"
Later, when we collected the dead, we learned that they had not
sunk into the earth. The apparently sunken portion was not there
when we dug out around them. Possibly they had melted.

"Soulcatcher stopped playing with us. She had to be
controlling those circles somehow. Otherwise they would've
killed her own soldiers the first time they retreated. But that
isn't working anymore. What's changed? What's
happened?"

Suddenly, the vultures above the wood all spiralled down
rapidly, as though planning to attack something.

I said, "Let's see what Sleepy is up to."

Sleepy was sending scouts to explore the limits of the danger.
So far no death flower had bloomed on our far flanks.

The vultures stopped their descent just above the treetops but
continued to look more like raptors than carrion birds. One
suffered an impulse to descend a little farther.

A golden-brown urine-colored strand darted up like a gigantic
toad's tongue. A splatter of light surrounded the bird. It
seemed to become a black cutout of a vulture. The cutout shattered
into a hundred fragments. Those fluttered down like falling
leaves.

The remaining vultures chose to take their business
elsewhere.

Nobody but me seemed to notice what was happening.

Where were my damned ravens? I could send them to see what was
happening while keeping my own sweet ass high and dry. What was the
point of taking on a mythic character if I did not get to do mythic
kinds of things?

Moments later Tobo and Howler were above the woods, dropping
prosaic firebombs on the Taglian forces.

Lady joined us before Sleepy's scouts had found out if we
could safely slide around the ends of the killing zone. She had a
map she presented to the Captain. One glimpse told me my sweetie
had not wasted her time aloft. She had charted the deadly circles.
And a pattern was apparent. The positions of those not yet tripped
were evident. Unless Soulcatcher had been aware of our airborne
capacity. Then the death circles would be there solely to herd us
into something far more gruesome and cruel.

Sleepy summoned her battalion commanders immediately.


Chapter 69 

Midway Between: The Unanticipated

Soulcatcher's soldiers fought stubbornly for
a while, along the edge of the wood, but had been too badly mauled
already to last long under determined attack by our professional
bloodletters.

Most of the Taglians had no desire to see their wives and
children lose their husbands and fathers. Sleepy gave orders to let
anyone who abandoned his weapons go.

Any Taglian economy inherited by the Prahbrindrah Drah would be
better off if it was not crippled by a great slaughter of the
empire's young men. It was only now recovering from the
horrible losses suffered during the Shadowmaster and Kiaulune
wars.

"It wasn't anywhere nearly as eloquent a victory as
I'd hoped. But I'll take it," Sleepy said.
"Despite our casualties. This war may have been won
today."

That earned her a lot of bewildered or disbelieving looks.
Soulcatcher was still out there, in a really foul temper now. More
unpleasant surprises could be expected.

"But if we keep after her she'll be distracted when
she reaches Taglios."

Mogaba's plans were a longshot. I said so. "And
whatever sweet nothings his conscience whispered to him a couple
months back, he'll be a whole lot more worried about saving
Mogaba's skin once he has old enemies pounding on his door
for real."

Sleepy started to say something about Aridatha Singh but thought
better of it.

A carmine flash appeared on the killing ground. Using
Lady's chart Tobo had triggered a booby trap by bombarding it
from the Howler's flying carpet.

Sleepy told Runmust Singh, "After Tobo's done I want
you to march some prisoners back and forth through there. I
don't want any of those things left active. Some kid might
wander in there and get himself killed." Like the countryside
was swarming with stupid children.

I said, "I'd be more pleased if we could grab a few
of those things for our own use. If Mogaba had something like that
he might stand a chance of killing Soulcatcher."

Lady ruined the fun. "She'd smell it out. She
created those things. There'll be safeguards so they
can't be thrown back at her."

A whole lot of shouting started in the woods. Tobo and Shukrat
darted that way, in case the soldiers needed help. Moments later
Howler's carpet streaked back our way.

Tobo did not bother to dismount. He just announced,
"They've found the Daughter of Night. She's in a
cage. Soulcatcher ran off and left her."

Lady and I exchanged looks. That seemed completely unlikely.
Unless the girl was bait in a truly deadly trap. Which might be.
Soulcatcher had sown the field of death that had consumed our
soldiers without the Unknown Shadows noticing her doing it.


Chapter 70 

Midway Between: The Capture

The cage was
inside a halfway collapsed tent. Several fireballs had ripped
through the fabric but had failed to set it afire. I told everyone,
"Be extremely careful here. If there was ever a time when
Soulcatcher would try to spring something on us this would be
it."

Sleepy had her henchmen push curious soldiers back. We were
already closer to the tent than Lady liked--though that had as much
to do with who we expected to meet here as it had to do with
concern about sorcerous deadfalls.

Nobody had yet been able to sense anything active in that
line.

Lady told Tobo, "Go over everything three more times. Then
check it again. Howler, you go over it, too." Of no one in
particular she asked, "Where's Goblin?" When she
got no answer she turned on the men who had found the tent, all of
whom were in perfect health despite having taken time to scrounge
souvenirs before they reported their find. "Where's the
little man? The one who got away at Nijha."

Shrugs. They might not know what she was talking about. But one
brave soul did say, "There's another cage under there.
It's tipped over and broken. Maybe he got away."

Lady and I exchanged glances. Why would Goblin leave without the
girl?

He would not.

Tobo called out, "There's no danger here."

Howler tried to concur but his voice gurgled off into a
scream.

I said, "Something definitely ain't right. Tobo,
send your unseen pals out to scout around. We especially need to
know where Goblin and Soulcatcher are. As soon as we can. We have
to keep after them."

Sleepy nodded irritated agreement.

Lady and I approached the tent warily.

Booby traps come in many forms.

As we had been warned, one broken cage was empty. The other lay
on its side, door downward. One fine-looking woman lay sort of
splattered all over inside, wearing not a stitch.

Lady stunned me by starting to rush forward saying something
about her poor baby. I caught her arm. "Easy." The body
looked, to me, like it had been posed. It would excite
Soulcatcher's sense of humor for decades if she could get us
to jump to our deaths over a child who had no more feeling for us
than she did for the horses, cattle, and whatnot that passed
through her life.

Lady paused but would not remain patient long.
"What?"

"That isn't Booboo. I don't think." But
that naked flesh could not be an illusion, could it? Goblin used to
do that sort of thing . . . But Tobo said
nothing magical was going on.

I squatted, groaning as my knees creaked, reached through the
bars and pulled dark hair away from the woman's neck, which
it had concealed.

I pulled Lady down beside me. Her knees popped as badly as mine
had. "Look there. I do pretty good work, don't I? You
can hardly see the scars." I exaggerated. The scarring was
ugly. But not all that ugly for somebody who had had her head sewn
back on.

"Check the foot. Which foot got hurt? The right one,
wasn't it?"

I uncovered the woman's right foot. The injury done by
Goblin's booby trap, and Soulcatcher's own crude
self-repairs, were immediately obvious.

"I hate her even more than I used to," Lady said.
"Except for that heel and her scars she's still looking
just as sleek as she did on her nineteenth birthday. What's
wrong with her?"

I said, "I can't tell from here. But I'm not
getting any closer till I know it's safe. Where'd Tobo
and Howler go? Get them back here." This remained a
potentially explosive situation, even if no sorcery was active.
Soulcatcher would be in a foul temper when she regained
consciousness.

Lady mused, "The child must have a low opinion of our
intelligence if she thought this would fool us."

I wondered. Maybe we just showed up before the trap could be
fully prepared.

When Tobo returned he told us, "Cat Sith just spotted
Soulcatcher at the north edge of the woods. She has Goblin on a
leash. She's rallied some soldiers and has them building
earthworks." He became increasingly distracted as he stared
at my sister-in-law.

Now was that not an interesting set of developments?

Sleepy blurted, "The Daughter of Night is pretending that
she's the Protector?"

Tobo almost reeled back when he realized that he was lusting
after a woman five hundred years his senior.

Lady, always an advocate for swift and decisive action when she
had been in command, insisted, "We need to press her.
Whoever's in charge. Every second she gets to pull things
together will mean more casualties and difficulties for us
later."

Sleepy did not disagree. It was hard to argue with the truth.
She went off to restore order and resume the advance. It was weird
that the Taglians, already broken twice and neither well-trained
nor motivated, would be rallying. But Tobo insisted that they were
doing so and he was not subject to fantasies. Of that sort.

It seemed unlikely that the Taglians would be well-armed. Most
of the Taglian soldiers had thrown down their weapons the first
time they fled.

Lady gripped my hand for a moment. "Think we'll ever
really get to see her?"

"You begin to wonder if she's any closer, or any
more real, than Khatovar, don't you?"

Willow Swan came bounding up. "Is it true? Have we caught
Soulcatcher again?"

"News spreads fast," I said. "Yes.
That's her. I'm pretty sure. You're welcome to
join me while I examine her. To make sure." He had gotten
closer to her than I ever had as her one-time physician and
surgeon. He would have a better chance of spotting physical
evidence that this was one of Soulcatcher's elaborate tricks.
If he remembered anything at all after five years away.

I did not believe this was a trick. There was something badly
wrong with my honey's little sister. I felt that before I got
my close-up look.

Swan examined and grumbled. He had no happy recollections of the
way Soulcatcher had used him way back when.

But he was not driven by any particular hatred of her, either.
Sleepy said, "You keep what this woman did to you firmly in
mind, Willow Swan. I don't want to see it happen again. And
if I do get a whiff, you can count on getting kneecapped before you
score."

Swan wanted to rage and protest that there was no damned way
that witch was going to get inside his head again. But he did not.
He was only flesh and he recognized that that flesh was incapable
of rational thought around any female who shared
Soulcatcher's family blood.

His record spoke for itself.

"Then why don't we just kill her?" he asked.
Wounded pride burned through his cool. "Right here. Right
now. While we've got the best chance we'll ever get.
End it all forever."

"We won't because we don't know what Goblin
and Booboo did to her," I snapped when Lady seemed strangely
reluctant to disappoint a fellow whose passion had fixed upon her
originally. She would not be developing a sense of compassion at
this late date, would she? Or of family? She and her sister were
one another's oldest surviving enemies. "Soulcatcher
won't help us more than she absolutely has to but she will
help. For a while."

Lady nodded. Her sister was insane but her insanity was
pragmatic.

Sister Soulcatcher showed no signs of recovering.

I did not say so but my outburst was part whistling past the
graveyard. I was increasingly certain that there was something
gravely wrong with Soulcatcher. I feared she might be dying. This
was the thing that had claimed Sedvod. And nobody else saw it.

The others were all too excited by the prospect of having her at
our mercy.


Chapter 71 

Midway Between: Unpleasant Truth

Getting
Soulcatcher awake and aware enough to understand and begin
suffering because of her circumstances preoccupied Lady and Swan
for some time. Murgen and Thai Dei, Sahra and Uncle Doj joined
them. In time they meant to strong-arm Soulcatcher into assisting
us but first they wanted to fatten up on a feast of gloating.

Soulcatcher did not cooperate. She remained steadfastly unaware,
exactly the way Sedvod had done.

The racket of skirmishing rose and fell in the distance, never
becoming intense. Our guys did not sound much more ambitious than
were our enemies. I did not blame them for a disinclination to get
killed when the battle's outcome had been determined
already.

Riverwalker jogged into sight. "The Captain's
compliments and could you all come up and help her? She has a
situation. She'd like some advice."

"I'll be damned," I said. "Just when you
think you've seen everything."

"What kind of situation?" Murgen asked. He was not
distracted by Soulcatcher. He understood that when the word
"situation" was used this way it meant that his son was
about to be asked to jump into something particularly hot.

"We're having trouble coming to grips with
what's left of the enemy."

I suggested, "Why not just leave them the hell alone now?
They're on the run." Riverwalker ignored me.

"At about a hundred yards the soldiers start losing
interest. The few who do manage to go on and get within fifty yards
say they find themselves thinking how awful they are for
interfering with Her and that they really ought to be helping
Her fulfill Her holy destiny. `Her' not being
defined but they assume they're thinking about the Protector
because the Protector is the devil they know and the devil they
thought they were supposed to be chasing."

Lady waved me closer. She murmured, "I'll handle
this end. Take the carpet and posts up and bombard the Taglian
command from outside spell range."

"We're almost out of fireballs again."

"So drop rocks. Or burning brush. Or anything else
that
 will make her concentrate on staying out of the way. Every
time she moves a few more of her troops will drift outside the
spell. Whereupon they'll suddenly get smart and run
away."

Her confident prescription suggested that this was an effect she
knew of old.

I told everyone, "First thing we do is load up on arrows.
We'll just drop them from higher than she can reach. From
five hundred feet up they ought to be good and deadly." My
gut knotted. I was talking about bombarding my own flesh and
blood.

But part of me was certain that the girl would avoid personal
damage. And part believed that a confrontation had been inherent in
the situation from the moment Narayan Singh had snatched our baby
from Lady's arms.

It did work. The girl, wearing her aunt's costume, darted
around, followed by Goblin. The last few fireballs and firebombs
got spent. Their infallible lack of accuracy refreshed my cynical
view of our chances of catching a break.

The pair tried to fight back. Whenever a flier descended below a
certain level a string of urine-colored lights flung upward. But I
kept them too busy skipping out of harm's way to concentrate
on their marksmanship. I could not tell which was the source of the
deadly light.

I noted that the girl seemed unaware that the guy overhead in
the ugly suit was her doting papa.

Our soldiers grasped the situation quickly and seized those
opportunities offered by the shifting perimeter around the Taglian
forces.

The Daughter of Night was no soldier but she was quick and
decisive and did have a source of advice in a man who had spent
more than a century soldiering.

Goblin told her to attack, to get what use she could out of the
troops she held in thrall. She did attack. Straight toward Sleepy,
ignoring the missiles falling around her. Our people had no choice
but to run from her while trying to weaken her from extreme rage.
Anybody who got too close underwent a sudden change of heart and
took up arms on behalf of the Deceiver messiah, without
understanding what was happening.

Because she was indifferent to how many of her helpers perished,
Booboo was able to chase around everywhere, breaking up everything
before it got organized, gaining a recruit for each two or three
men she lost, making it emotionally ever more difficult for our
archers to hurl missiles at soldiers who had been comrades not that
long before. The girl even came near recapturing Soulcatcher.

Then Tobo screwed up.

He assumed that his strength, combined with that of the Howler,
would be enough to overpower an untrained girl if they came at her
suddenly, from an unexpected direction. And maybe he was right. But
he forget that her companion was not the Goblin he had grown up
around. This Goblin was infected with wicked godhood.

That urine-colored light caught the flying carpet a glancing
blow just before the Howler and Tobo cut loose with the best they
had. A chunk of carpet turned into fluttering black scraps. Howler
and Tobo and the rest of the carpet hurtled ahead, safe from spells
but not from a brutal beating by the branches of the trees into
which they plunged. The Howler got off a couple of heartfelt
shrieks.

The urine-colored bar of light did the magical equivalent of
jostling the mystical elbows of the young sorcerer and the ancient
one alike. Their spells did a lot of damage to Booboo's
defenders. They even managed to stun their intended targets. But
because the spellcasters were bouncing around in the branches in
the woods, instead of reporting in, the rest of us never got a
chance to take advantage.


Chapter 72 

Midway Between: The Rescuers

We had a standoff
of sorts. We could not get at Goblin and the Daughter of Night when
they were most vulnerable. Their thugs did not know that we had
lost our most potent weapons, at least for a time. My ravens, who
had returned conveniently only when it was time for them to become
Tobo's mouthpieces, informed me that Howler and Tobo had
survived but were hurt. They were hidden in the woods a few dozen
yards from where the Daughter of Night and Goblin, barely recovered
enough to keep breathing, were hunkered down.

I tried to let Sleepy know quietly but Sahra was too alert. In
moments she worked herself into a state that even Murgen could not
soften. "You've got to do something!" she
shrieked.

"The Daughter of Night will hear you," Murgen
growled.

"You've got to get him out of there!"

"Be quiet!"

I agreed. Somebody had to do something. That somebody might be
me. But the only useful help I had was my two raven assistants.
They alternately reported Tobo unconscious or quietly delirious.
They could not get reliable orders from him. They refused to let me
use them to transmit orders to the other Unknown Shadows. Those
were gathering in numbers such that it was impossible not to
catch glimpses of them when you turned or moved suddenly.

"We can't get close to him," Murgen told
Sahra. He shook her. She was not listening. If she listened she
would have to hear uncomfortable truths.

Shukrat stepped forward. She told us, "I can bring him
out."

Sahra shut up. Even Sleepy stopped pulling the remains of our
army back together and offered her attention for a moment.

"I'll need my own clothing back," Shukrat told
us. Her accent was slight. "The enchantment won't touch
me if I'm protected by my own clothing." Her use of
Taglian had become conversational.

Sahra's hysteria faded immediately. I will never
understand that woman. I would have bet on it getting worse.

The rest of us exchanged glances. We could not survive without
Tobo. Not in this world. Not with our enemies. We had to get him
out of there before the Daughter of Night discovered the
opportunity that fortune had thrown down at her feet.

Shukrat said, "You've got to trust me sometime. This
might be a good time to take a chance."

Maybe she was not as dumb as she put on.

Tobo trusted her.

I looked over her head to where Sleepy had resumed expostulating
angrily with Iqbal Singh and an officer in badly dented Hsien style
armor. She had heard. She waved a hand and nodded to indicate that
the decision was up to me. I knew the Voroshk kids better than she
did.

"All right," I told Shukrat. "But I go with
you."

"How?"

"I'll put on
Gromovol's . . . "

She was more amused than alarmed, though she was troubled. She
was very worried about Tobo.

Because I have this obsessional thing about loyalties and
brotherhood and keeping faith with the past I sometimes have
trouble believing that other people respond as flexibly to their
situation as they do. I could not have made my peace with such a
dramatic shift in circumstances as easily as Shukrat had.

I said, "That won't work, eh?"

"No. The clothing is created specially for each of us.
Individually." She had only that slight accent, no greater
than my own, but she did not yet possess a large vocabulary. Her
speech was simpler than it might have been. "Though it can be
adjusted by a tailor of sufficient skill. The skill takes twenty
years to learn, though."

"All right. Where's that stuff stashed? In
Tobo's wagon?" The kid had so much junk he needed his
own wagon and teamsters to haul it around. The wagon contained
things as diverse as marbles and miracles. He had been indulged all
his life and would not leave anything behind. "Let's
go."

I hoped he had not left any protective spells where they would
keep us from getting at the tools we needed to save his scruffy
young butt.


Chapter 73 

Midway Between: The Rescue

Fully attired in
her family uniform Shukrat seemed a lot more formidable than the
cute little freckle face who hung around with Tobo. Her apparel
seemed to be alive, seemed excited to have rejoined her. The black
cloth kept stirring around her, restlessly. She resembled an
Unknown Shadow who had chosen to let itself be seen. Her blue eyes
sparkled. I suspected she might be having fun. I told her,
"Tobo's dad and I will come along as far as we
can," although she did not seem to need reassurance. She did
understand that having Murgen along meant Thai Dei would be there,
too. And Thai Dei did not trust her at all.

Our sometimes odd personal entanglements did not interest
Shukrat. Not that she would ever talk about them with an old fart
like me.

Shukrat forgot that she was wearing that same outfit the day she
fell into our hands. When she was not alone. She forgot that she
was not invincible.

Sorcerers never lack for self-confidence. Especially young
sorcerers.

Those whose self-confidence is justified live to become old
sorcerers.

A platoon of elite fighters would creep along behind us, far
enough back not to irritate Shukrat's pride but close enough
to salvage her cute little behind if her confidence was not
completely justified.

For Tobo's sake I would try to make sure she became an
older sorceress, by at least one more day.

Murgen scrounged up fireball projectors for himself and Thai
Dei. Uncle Doj scrounged up himself and Ash Wand and invited
himself into the game. He might be older than dirt but he was still
spryer than me. He and his disciples stole through the battered
wood in silence so total I wondered if my hearing was going. My old
bones were less cooperative so I ended up as rearguard. Today my
whole body insisted on reminding me that I had been critically
wounded not all that long ago. Although it did that almost every
day.

I wore my Widowmaker armor. Though the Hsien reproduction was
quieter than the metal original that Soulcatcher made I still
seemed to be all clang and clatter.

I took One-Eye's spear along, against Lady's
advice.

Shukrat's flying post trailed behind her. My ravens rode
it, one offering directions, the other poised to carry news or
unexpected holiday greetings to the rear.

It would be a holiday somewhere in the world. And fate offered
me a glimpse of Goblin in the distance, evidently passed out, much
as he had done after preferring the holiday excuse for being drunk,
half a lifetime ago. I hefted the black spear.

I glimpsed the girl, too. She was moving but doing it like a
drunk on the brink of passing out. I recalled another time, long
ago, when a brother named Raven and I had ambushed a sorceress
called Whisper on Soulcatcher's behalf. Circles of fortune.
The madwoman had been our employer at the time. Now she worked for
us. Or would be given the opportunity to work for us if I could
keep her alive. That might be a tough assignment.

Seeing the girl and my old friend hurt. I wished I had a weapon
I could use to end this here, now. One-Eye's spear seemed to
turn in my hand. I pointed out the view to Murgen and Thai Dei. I
breathed, "On the way out. After we have Tobo and
Howler." I indicated their bamboo poles.

Murgen worked to keep a blank face. Thai Dei did not have to
work. Thai Dei did not come equipped with facial expressions, so
far as I could tell. Uncle Doj nodded. Uncle Doj was old friends
with unpleasant necessity.

I told Murgen, "I'll do it if you
can't." Sometimes you have to build a wall around your
heart.

A few steps onward we encountered the emotional phenomenon the
soldiers had reported. But with the girl stunned it did not
overcome reason. I just had to concentrate on not giving myself up
to love for the Daughter of Night.

I did wonder how much worse it had been when she was in control
of all her faculties.

We reached Tobo without incident. Howler lay not ten feet away,
miraculously silent. The gods do play amazing games.

I examined Tobo before I let anyone move him. His pulse was
strong and regular but he was covered with cuts and abrasions and
had suffered a lot of broken bones. He was not going to be much use
to anybody for a long time.

Shukrat whispered. "He would have been fine if he had been
wearing this." She indicated her apparel. That seemed
spellproof, too. As promised, she was suffering none of the effects
of the Daughter of Night's emanations.

It was a struggle for the rest of us, and getting more difficult
as Booboo regained her senses.

We got Tobo aboard a crude litter that we slung underneath the
flying post. Howler we hoisted onto the log itself. We tied him
into place. He was not badly hurt, just persistently unconscious.
His rags had served him better than any armor. He needed to find
himself an alley and do some ragpicking. He needed a new outfit
desperately. What he was wearing no longer came up to the standard
of rags.

I told Thai Dei and Murgen to collect as many scraps of flying
carpet as they could without alerting the Taglians to our presence.
No telling what could be learned from them. We did not need Goblin
and Booboo getting any brilliant notions about improving their
mobility.

Howler chose that moment to wake up, stretch and greet the world
with a good scream. I clamped an armored hand over the little
bastard's mouth but I moved a beat too late.

Booboo's men started scrambling around. Goblin woke up and
glared around, but in apparent confusion. Somebody eager to hurl
himself into the gap between peril and the Daughter of Night
smashed into the girl violently enough to knock her off her feet
and leave her groggier than she was already.

The "love me" spell weakened significantly. Half a
dozen Taglian soldiers materialized. The first two stopped
instantly when they got a look at me and Shukrat. Those behind them
piled into them.

Doj leaped forward like a man a third his age. Ash Wand
glittered in a dance of death.

More soldiers appeared. Lots more. Murgen and Thai Dei emptied
the bamboo fireball projectors they carried, then drew swords and
joined Doj in weaving a tapestry of steel.

Shukrat told me, "Go. Now. Just push the rheitgeistide. It
will go ahead of you." In a straight line only, I discovered
instantly, unless a couple of people pushed and pulled it real hard
to get it going in a straight line in some other direction.

I did not have anyone to help me right away. Tobo's male
relatives were busy turning the Taglian army into bite-sized bits
of crow food. Shukrat was playing hard to hit with a band of
Taglian archers.

When their arrows reached her she seemed to lose definition
momentarily. Her cloak swirled around her, almost cloudlike.
Nothing touched her.

A cloud of a thousand glittering little obsidian flakes boiled
off Shukrat. Despite a breeze blowing into our faces, the cloud
headed for the Taglians. In moments enemy soldiers were swearing,
slapping themselves, forgetting to be bellicose toward me.

Most excellent.

I had seen One-Eye and Goblin pull similar stunts frequently
over the years, usually with bees or hornets. One time one of them
stirred up an army of ants to attack the other. Much of their
creativity for much of their lives had gone into inventing new ways
to harass one another.

I missed the little shits, aggravation and all.

It was not a good time to be a Taglian devotee of the Deceiver
messiah, willing or otherwise. Tobo's family was making the
blood fly.

That damned Goblin exploded like a starving vampire popping up
out of his grave. He landed amongst his own soldiers. Three or four
went down. Doj, Thai Dei and Murgen all got thrown around like they
weighed nothing. Their swords seemed incapable of doing any harm.
The fiercest blows sounded like they were slamming into a
waterlogged tree trunk. And did about as much damage as they would
have done to a huge old watersoaked log.

I recalled One-Eye's last hours. And was in motion already
when I did, the black spear extended way out in my right hand, head
starting to glow.

The Goblin thing whipped to one side fast enough to avoid
getting skewered. It did suffer a cut that would have been enough
to require stitches if it had been the true Goblin.

Its flesh felt tougher than an old smoke-cured ham.

The Goblin face betrayed complete astonishment, then horrible
pain. The spear flashed and smoked in my hand. Goblin shrieked. For
an instant I saw the real Goblin looking out of tormented eyes.

I fought for my balance and tried to get him with a truer
thrust.

I did not get him at all. He flung out of there in complete
terror of my weapon. His wound looked like it had gone gangrenous
already.

All this took only moments. The troops I had asked to tag along
behind wasted no time rushing up to help. Still down, Booboo was
not radiating enough "love me" to disrupt their ability
to fight. They started grabbing the rest of us and dragging us out
of there.

"I can walk!" I snarled. Though I had almost no
strength left. I got hold of the flying post and started walking
it.

The soldiers carried Doj and Thai Dei. Murgen looped an arm over
the shoulder of another fighter who had managed to get himself
injured already.

This did not look good for the Ky family.

More of our men rushed up.

I leaned into the log. I tried not to worry. Behind me the
skirmish got rowdy. More men came up on both sides. Fortunes
shifted as the girl found strength or weakened. Evidently using the
"love me" enchantment sucked the strength out of her
flesh.

"I hate this kind of fight," I told Sleepy when she
came over to see how the survivors were doing. She kept her back to
the ranks of the dead.

Howler was up and around already. I had a whole team working on
Tobo. Murgen was going to make it. He just needed time. But time
had run out for Doj and Thai Dei. Soldiers live.

I kept doing what I could for Soulcatcher, too, mostly when my
wife was not watching. "You can lose a lot of men without
accomplishing a thing." I meant that as a subtle
suggestion.

"They've realized they can't win.
They've started moving north. Before we can finish
surrounding them." I heard nothing in her voice expressing
disappointment. "How bad is Tobo?"

"Not as bad as his uncle and Doj."

"Croaker."

"Sorry. We're out of business. Maybe for a long
time. If Tobo has a bone that isn't broken I can't find
it." I exaggerated only a little. The kid had a broken leg, a
broken toe, a broken arm (two places), a concussion and a whole
rack of crushed or broken ribs. "Unless you're willing
to face Mogaba without him."

"Outnumbered by the best troops we'll face,
commanded by the only intelligent commander we're likely to
meet?" Meaning a general she had fought during the Kiaulune
wars but never had beaten. She eyed Soulcatcher. "Counting on
Howler to give us his best? I think not."

"Then we'd better fall back to Dejagore and get
comfortable. Or move up to Ghoja."

"Ghoja," she decided instantly. "We want
control of that river crossing. And that barrier."

"Mogaba isn't likely to come out right away.
He'll want to know exactly what's going on before he
commits himself to any course. Hell, he might not come out at all
if we update him on what's going on with the Daughter of
Night."

She agreed. "If we let him know, he might find a chance to
do something beneficial to all of us. See that he gets the
appropriate information."

How was I supposed to do that?

I did not ask.

I knelt beside Soulcatcher. Her breathing was ragged. She seemed
to be getting weaker. I did ask, "How's
Sahra?"

"She'll be all right. She's lived with this
idea for a lot of years. She knows nobody gets out of here alive.
Even if they don't have one of those silver badges.
I'll let you know what she decides about funeral
arrangements."

I grunted.

She left me with a final caution. "Just don't let
her boy die. Things would get unpleasant."


Chapter 74 

Midway Between: Escape Artists

Sometime during
the excitement the Voroshk kids decided to run away. But before
they ran they had to argue about how to manage it and who should be
in charge after they succeeded and then they kept bickering until
they wasted most of the time when the rest of us were diverted
first by Soulcatcher and then by Booboo.

Nothing got decided completely. After sundown they surprised
their guards using feeble disorientation spells. Gromovol killed
several soldiers, mostly because Magadan cautioned him not to. As
soon as they were loose Gromovol started looking for his flying
post. Arkana and Magadan believed it was more important to find
their clothing. Without that they were almost powerless. They wrote
Gromovol off. They knew the Black Company well enough already to
want to distance themselves from the doom taking shape in his
future.

Arkana told Magadan, "We'll have to take one of
those keys to their shadowgate, too. Otherwise we'll never
get out of this world."

"If we get the chance, yes. But the main thing we need to
do is to get away from these madmen." Even after several
months Magadan still did not understand what was happening in this
world. It was too alien. Nothing made any sense. His own world had
known no real war since his forbears had come to power.

Two hundred yards away Gromovol did something stupid and
betrayed himself as he tried to steal a flying post. An alarm
sounded. In minutes rage flooded the camp. The murdered guards had
been found.

Arkana swore. "That idiot! We'd better surrender to
somebody important right now. If we keep on running the soldiers
who catch us won't listen to any explanations."

"Shukrat . . . "

"Shukrat's gone native. Shukrat's decided
there's no way she'll ever get home so she might as
well do the best she can for herself over here. It's probably
because of her mother."

"What?"

"Her mother. Shukrat's been totally weird ever since
the First Father put her mother aside for that woman Saltireva.
Besides, she's infatuated with Tobo."

"He is gorgeous, isn't he?"

"Magadan! Well, yes. Exotic, anyway."

"I hear his mother was one of the great beauties of this
world when she was younger. But his father grew up eating nothing
but ugly soup." All the while they talked Magadan kept
drifting away from the excitement. He had no destination in mind
but no intention of giving himself up. There would be no chance
like this ever again.

Arkana said, "Shukrat could be
right."

"What?"

"Suppose she hasn't really gone native? Suppose
she's just winning their trust? Maybe someday she'll
just stroll off with one of their keys and leave this
world."

"Damn."

"Shukrat won't do it. But we could adopt that
strategy." It had not taken Shukrat long to get her post and
clothing back. She was becoming an important part of the Black
Company. Already.

"Why didn't we think of that?" Magadan
grumbled.

Arkana said, "Because we're almost as stupid as
Gromovol is. As blind to anything that isn't the way it was
at home. Shukrat isn't bright. But she does see that this
isn't home and never will be. I'm turning back. You do
what you want. When the shouting stops I want them to find me right
where they left me. I refused to run away. It was all that idiot
Gromovol's fault."

But, darling ice princess, don't you know you never do
anything alone?

The Voroshk never fully grasped the fact that the Unknown
Shadows are with all of us always. If Tobo wanted he could catalog
every breath they took. The hidden folk tap emotion. They learn to
understand what is being said far faster than even language
naturals like myself. The Voroshk could no longer speak
secrets.

Sometimes misfortune likes to get into the game.

Magadan told Arkana, "You go ahead. Be friendly. Flirt. Do
what Shukrat did. When you get your key come find me. I'll
walk you home."

"Come back with me."

"I can't. They'll blame me for what Gromovol
did."

The devil named appeared suddenly, running straight toward them,
the light of campfires exaggerating the terror distorting his face.
Gromovol had expected to fling open the door to freedom but had
found it to be the door to hell and no one on the other side cared
who he was.

Before it could all be sorted out and the troops calmed down
Magadan had been killed, Gromovol had been wounded badly, and
Arkana had been raped several times. She brought a broken leg and
several cracked ribs into my care as well. In time I heard all the
true details from my ravens, who seemed more inclined to be
communicative while Tobo was out of action.

Soldiers whose friends have been murdered are not kindly people.
In a Company without Lady and a female Captain no discipline would
have been assessed at all. As it was, the discipline was light and
directed mainly at those who had assaulted Arkana sexually. That
could not be overlooked.


Chapter 75 

Taglios: The Palace

Mogaba was not yet
aware of the disaster that had befallen the Army of the Middle when
he found the two women in his quarters. Lady he recognized. The
young blonde he did not. She would, he presumed, be a sorceress,
too. Fear cramped his stomach. His heartbeat doubled. But he
betrayed nothing outwardly.

He had had to mask his emotions in the presence of madmen and a
madwoman for decades. The madmen were gone. With luck the madwoman
would follow. And he would persist.

He bowed slightly. "Lady. To what do I owe the unexpected
honor?"

"To disasters. Of course."

The Great General glanced at the younger woman. She was
completely exotic, like no woman he had ever seen.

Though white and blonde she did not resemble Willow Swan
otherwise. There was an alien feel to her.

She must be from wherever the Black Company had hidden the last
several years.

He said, "I'm sure you didn't come this far
just to stand around looking cryptic."

"The Daughter of Night and the thing inside what used to
be Goblin somehow overwhelmed the Protector. The girl put on
Soulcatcher's leathers. She's pretending to be her.
She's squandered ninety-five percent of your Middle Army.
She's headed this way. We aren't in any condition to
chase her. My husband thought you should know. He wants me to
remind you that the Daughter of Night exists only to bring on the
Year of the Skulls. I want you to know that Kina is real. Doubt any
of the other gods you want but not this one. She's out there.
We've seen her. And if she gets loose none of our other
squabbles will mean a thing."

Mogaba did not need to be reminded that the Year of the Skulls
would be an atrocity far huger than any of Soulcatcher's
random cruelties. Catcher was mere Chaos. Kina was Destruction.

"We have a plan for handling the Protector. It should work
as well against someone pretending to be the Protector. Possibly
better." He did not ask what had become of Soulcatcher. He
was content to hope that phase of his life was complete.

"The girl doesn't have Soulcatcher's finely
honed powers but she does have plenty of raw talent. She's
somehow surrounded herself with an aura that makes anyone within a
hundred feet want to love her and do anything to please her. This
has manifested itself before, in smaller ways, so I fear we can
expect it to grow as she comes to understand it and exercise
it."

"That isn't good. That's not good at all.
That'll make sniping difficult. Any way around it?"

From the blonde's slight start, Mogaba judged
Lady's,
"Not that we know of yet," to be less than honest.
But in her place he would have reserved something, too. And what
they had obviously was not reliable. Otherwise they would have used
it themselves.

The Great General said, "Thank you for the warning.
We'll make use of it. Was there anything more?" Down
deep he nurtured the tiniest hope that there could be a
reconciliation. A hope he knew was unrealistic. But everyone
nurtured impossible dreams. Even the gods were pursuing the
impossible.

Mogaba stated the facts as they had been reported to him. He
made that point clear. "We aren't their friends. They
just want someone else to assume part of the cost of eliminating
the enemies they have to go through in order to get at
us."

Ghopal Singh asked, "What about the truth of the report?
Are they just trying to trick us into attacking the Protector? If
they could get us to make the attempt and we were to fall at a time
when they were close behind the Protector they'd reach the
gates just when Taglios was falling into chaos."

Aridatha groaned. "We went to them, Ghopal. Remember me
chasing halfway to the other end of the world to tell them we were
going to try to get rid of the Protector? Remember me helping them
take over Dejagore as a sign of good faith?"

"Circumstances have changed."

Mogaba interjected, "Ghopal, I've given this a lot
of thought. I think it's true. The Protector is out of the
game. Possibly only momentarily. Hell, probably. She's made
unlikely comebacks before. What hurts my feelings, of course, is
that those people don't consider us much worth worrying about
in terms of the greater struggle."

Aridatha grumbled, "Which might not be that unreasonable
when you think about it dispassionately."

Ghopal asked, "And you're equally sure that the
Middle Army has been destroyed?" Even military insiders had
not yet fully digested the news about the losses of Dejagore and
the Southern Army that had clung to it's skirts. A lot of
people were still waiting to hear how Dejagore responded to
it's change of masters.

The nature of that response would have repercussions throughout
the Taglian empire.

Would the return of the royals be celebrated? Or resented? The
Dejagoran response was likely to set the fashion for all the cities
and towns that came under the Company sway.

"I'm sure of it," Mogaba told Ghopal.
"But I'm less sure of the condition of the invaders
afterward. I got the distinct impression that their defeat of the
Middle Army was neither cheap nor easy."

Aridatha said, "We've got to have better
intelligence."

Mogaba took a moment to stifle his sarcasm before confessing,
"I'm open to ideas. Any ideas."

No inspirations sprouted immediately.

Aridatha said, "We could always do something mythic. Like
damning ourselves by bringing in an ally worse than our enemies.
One that will devour us after it finishes doing what we brought it
in to do."

Mogaba and Ghopal recognized the effort but did not get
Aridatha's joke.

"It's an allusion. Or a parable. Or
something," Aridatha explained. "Like all stories about
Kina. The Lords of Light created her or brought her in for the
demon plain war. And probably would have been better off if the
rakshasas had won, ultimately."

Mogaba did have a sense of humor. He just had not brought it
along tonight. "I guess you had to be there. Anyway,
there's nobody we could bring in. We're on our own. So
suggestions are in demand. Practical suggestions will be
particularly welcome." That was something in the nature of a
jest so, perhaps, he had brought part of his sense of humor.

Ghopal said, "All we can do is send out more spies and set
up more remount stations so the spies can get their observations to
us faster."

"And we have only one courier battalion." Mogaba sat
quietly for half a minute. Then he asked, "How is our support
among the priests and bourgeoisie? They've had time to think
about the royals coming back. They plan to desert us?"

"We're the devil as far as they know," Ghopal
replied. "The Protector has been their benefactor. And only a
few of the slickest talkers can hope to benefit if we get thrown
out. We worked hard to eliminate the Radisha's friends once
we could no longer hide the fact that the princess was gone, not
just hiding out feeling sorry for herself."

The Great General proposed, "Let's try the same
strategy. Make believe we haven't lost the Protector.
Aridatha. You seem to be distracted."

"I keep thinking about the girl. The Daughter of
Night."

"And?"

"I saw her once. Five years ago. There's something
about her . . . Makes you want to throw her
down on her back. And makes you want to worship her at the same
time. Makes you feel like you should do anything you can to please
her. It's scary when you step back far enough to realize what
happened."

"She's all grown-up that way." Mogaba
explained what Lady had told of events to the south. "That
girl got hundreds of men killed. We'll have to assassinate
her remotely somehow. See if some mechanical engine can be
contrived."

"I have a question," Ghopal said.

"Go."

"What's that thing you're fiddling with?
You've been playing with it ever since you got
here."

"Oh. Some kind of snail shell. They're all over the
Palace. Nobody knows where they come from. Nobody's ever
actually seen one crawling around. They're sort of relaxing
when you roll them around in your fingers."

Both Singhs eyed the Great General as though thinking his
behavior was distinctly odd.

Ghopal said, "Regarding the Daughter of Night. We might
consider poison. There're some talented poisoners in Chor
Bagan, the thieves' market."

The years had changed Mogaba. He did not immediately reject the
suggestion as unworthy of men of honor.


Chapter 76 

The Taglian Territories: Another Origin
Story

I suggested,
"How about a standoff weapon we can launch from outside her
influence? Hell, if we take the logs and carpets up high enough we
can just keep dropping rocks till we get her." There was some
optimism. We did not have even one carpet since Booboo knocked
Howler and Tobo down. What we did have was bits and pieces of half
a dozen carpets that Howler had been working on when nothing else
took up his time.

Lady glared at me so intensely I began to wonder how soon I
would start melting.

Killing Booboo was not yet on her list of options. Her emotions
were engaged much more deeply than mine, though the problem of the
girl was a torment to me, too.

My entanglement was more with the idea of the child than with
the specific daughter.

Lady wanted to fool herself into believing there might be some
way that Booboo could be redeemed.

"You're wasting time," the Prahbrindrah Drah
said. The collapse of Soulcatcher's Middle Army had brought
him to life. Suddenly, he believed his restoration was just a
matter of marching to Taglios and yelling, "I'm
back!" He had leaped into the embrace of self-delusion.

There was a lot of that going around.

Murgen joined the conference as the Prince began to bicker with
Sleepy about her plans, a situation guaranteed not to persist for
long. Sleepy would let him know who was running the show. Murgen
announced, "I just finished reading a really long message
from Baladitya. Who is well and loving every minute of his new
life, thank you very much, Sleepy. Which he did not fail to point
out several times."

I asked, "What're you doing getting mail from that
old goofball?"

"He wasn't writing to me. He doesn't know me.
The message was intended for Tobo."

Sleepy, who was thoroughly cranky because nothing was going the
way she wanted, grumped, "I'm sure you're going
to share every exciting detail with us, too, even though what we
all need is some sleep."

"Since you insist." Murgen grinned. He had no
particular job assignment while he was recuperating so he could do
just about anything he pleased. "His letter mostly concerned
the prisoners Shivetya is holding up there. The First Father and
Gromovol's dad. Who Shivetya took in originally just to
protect them from the shadows. Of which there are hardly any left
anymore. Them and the Voroshk have almost wiped each other out.
Sorry." He patted Shukrat's shoulder. Nobody missed
that gesture. Murgen approved of Tobo's girlfriend--if that
was what she was.

I wondered what he was doing bringing Shukrat to a staff
meeting.

Sahra, of course, bristled like a hedge hog. There were no
eligible Nyueng Bao girls anywhere within two hundred miles and she
had married a foreigner, Murgen, for love herself, against the will
of most of her family, but what did that have to do with today?

Sahra could restrain herself most of the time, these days. In
public. If Murgen was around to calm her and remind her that Tobo
was not a four-year-old anymore. But she was under tremendous
additional strain now, with all her family dead or wounded. She had
not yet pulled herself together well enough to make decisions about
funeral arrangements for her brother and Uncle Doj.

He restrained her now, with just a gentle touch.

"You got a point to make?" Sleepy said. "Or
can I get back to work figuring out how to get us through this on
terms that suit our needs?"

Swan muttered something about the little bit needing a good dose
of man to relax her. Sleepy snarled. Swan grumbled, "Did I
volunteer? I don't think so. Not recently. So don't
fuck with me."

Hurriedly, Murgen told us, "Guys, Shivetya came up with
another Kina origin cycle. He got this one from the Voroshk.
Evidently they don't mind talking history if they're
bored. In this version Kina's husband put her to sleep. When
she kept acting up after she won the demon plain war for the gods
by sucking the blood out of all the demons. This version of the
Goddess has ten arms instead of four. Her husband, known as Chevil
in the world of the Voroshk, has four arms and is a lot like the
Kina we know. Sometimes he's called the Destroyer, too. But
sometimes he can be cajoled or seduced into going easy. Kina
can't."

His audience rustled. In some stories Khadi, one of the gentler
Gunni forms of Kina, had had a husband, Bhima, who also counted the
Destroyer among his many names.

All Gunni Gods have bunches of names. They get a little hard for
an outsider to keep straight because when they change their names
they also change their attributes. It gets particularly confusing
when you have two aspects of the same god getting into an
ass-kicking contest with each other.

"And this Chevi has what to do with Kina's
origins?" Sleepy demanded.

"Oh, he's the one who did all the mean things to
her, like chopping her up and scattering the pieces all over. But
she also kills him. And brings him back to life."

"Murgen. I'm considering sending you back to the
Taglians for some more rework."

"All right. Chevi has more than one wife. But there used
to be only one. That was Camundamari, who has several other names,
naturally. Camundamari was very dark-skinned. The other gods mocked
her and called her Blackie."

Interesting. Both Khadi and Kina can mean black in some Taglian
usages, though "syam" is the common and conventional
word.

Murgen continued, "When Chevi himself started taunting her
she flew into a huge rage, tore her skin off, and turned into
Ghowrhi, the Milky One. The shed skin became Kalikausiki, which
filled itself up on blood sucked from demons, then became Khat-hi,
the Black One."

"Kina is a skinwalker!" Suvrin cried, startling
everyone. Skinwalkers were a demonic terror little known outside
Suvrin's homeland. Skinwalkers killed a man, sucked out his
flesh and bones, put on his skin and stole his life. The details
are pretty gruesome. Skinwalker folklore strikes me as a way for
ignorant people to explain radical and bizarre changes in
personality. Shifts I believe are due to poorly understood
diseases. Or maybe just due to getting old.

Murgen was startled by Suvrin's outburst. Which seemed
excessive to me, too. "Not a skinwalker in the way you
mean," Murgen said.

Was there something in Suvrin's background?

The concept of a monster able to steal someone else's
identity that way is particularly grotesque. I have seen a lot of
strange and ugly things. Tobo's hidden folk are only the
latest on a long list. But Skinwalkers are one horror that just
seems too terrible to be true.

Like the gods themselves of late there have been no
manifestations before reliable witnesses. We were talking ancient
legends tonight. Suvrin had referenced one of the most obscure.

I said, "Believe me, Suvrin, if there were any real
skinwalkers down your way you can bet the Shadowmasters
would've rooted them out and used them up. What a weapon,
eh?"

"I guess," Suvrin admitted. Reluctantly.

"That's wonderful," Sleepy grumped.
"Ghost-story time is over, boys. Now we let Murgen finish. He
is going to finish, isn't he? Because I want to get back to
what this meeting is supposed to be all about." She swung a
deadly finger. "Don't you even think about puking up
another wisecrack, Willow."

Swan grimaced. He had live ammunition and no ready target. Then
he grinned. A time would come.

I said, "Murgen?"

"There isn't much more. Baladitya says most of the
high points of the mythology agree. There's more of a death
goddess to her nature over there. She's always referenced as
living in a cemetery."

"She does that here, doesn't she?" I asked.
"When Sleepy and Lady and you, especially, talk about your
nightmares, that place you go with all the bones? That could be a
Gunni style cemetery."

The Gunni burn their dead to purify them before their souls line
up for reassignment in the next life. But the fires are never hot
enough to consume the major bones. If a burning ground is near a
major river the leftovers are generally deposited there. But a lot
of places are not near a major river. And some are not near a
source of firewood. And some families never save up enough to buy
wood that is available.

Bones pile up.

These places are not often seen by anyone but the priests who
attend them, the men in yellow who revere Majayama but watch over
their shoulders because Kina and her pack of pet demons supposedly
lived beneath the bone piles. Even though Kina is known to be
chained up under the glittering plain until the Year of the
Skulls.

I said, "I've got a lot of time to think these days.
One of the things I've been pondering is why there are so
many different stories about Kina. And I think I've figured
it out."

My ego got a boost. Even Sleepy seemed interested, despite
herself. My wife, perhaps less enthralled, suggested, "Do go
on," in a tone implying that she knew there would be no
stopping me anyway.

"In those days the
Company . . . "

"Croaker!"

"Sorry. Just seeing if you were listening. What clued me
was the fact that there isn't any uniform Gunni doctrine.
There isn't much of an hierarchy amongst Gunni priests,
either, except locally. There's no central arbiter of what
constitutes acceptable or unacceptable dogma. Kina isn't
alone in being the subject of a hundred conflicting myths. The
whole pantheon is. Pick any god you want. When you travel from
village to village you'll find him wearing different names,
different myths, getting mixed up with other gods, and on and on
and on. We see the confusion because we're travelers. But up
until the Shadowmaster wars almost nobody in these parts ever went
anywhere. Generation after generation, century after century,
people were born, lived and died in the same few square miles. You
only had a few gem traders and the Strangler bands moving around.
Ideas didn't travel with them. So every myth gradually
mutates according to local experience and prejudice. Now first the
Shadowmasters and then we land in the middle of all
this . . . "

We? A glance around showed me just three other people who had
not grown up in this end of the world. For a moment I felt ancient
and out of place and found myself recalling an old piece of poetry
that said something to the effect: "Soldiers live. And wonder
why." Meaning, why am I the one, of all those who marched
with the Company when I was young, who is still alive and kicking?
I do not deserve it any more than any of those men. Maybe less than
some.

You always feel a little guilty when you think about it. And a
little glad it was somebody else, not you.

"That's it. We're travelers. That's why
it all seems alien and contradictory. Wherever we are, most of us
are outsiders. Even when we do belong to the majority
religion." A glance around showed me that hardly any of my
audience were Gunni, either. "Well, that's my
piece."

"All right, then," Sleepy said. "Back to
practical problems. How do we deal with the Daughter of Night and
the Goblin thing?"

"That's practically the same thing as a
skinwalker," Suvrin said. "Kina put him on like a suit
of clothes." Suvrin had skinwalkers on the brain tonight.

"The Daughter of Night!" Sleepy snapped. "I
want to hear about the Daughter of Night. Not about Kina. Not about
skinwalkers. Not about old Voroshk sorcerers, not about old
librarians and not about anything else. And, Lady, if you really
don't want the girl killed, then come up with an idea for
disarming her that's better than any idea for taking her out.
Because you're the only one here letting emotion get in the
way."


Chapter 77 

Above Ghoja: Seeking the One Safe Place

Goblin and the
girl both rode, though their mounts remained skittish and
frightened and Goblin's had to be kept in blinders so that it
could not see its rider. Neither animal was allowed to look back.
Goblin himself wore a rag to protect his damaged but nearly healing
eyes.

The handful of soldiers who joined their flight from the middle
ground fell away rapidly. Driven by the "love me" spell
they gave it everything they had but eventually every man drifted
outside the spell's influence, then vanished immediately.

Only the two touched by Kina crossed the bridge at
Ghoja. They reached the north bank as dawn began to paint the
eastern sky. It was still only the morning after the destruction of
the Taglian Middle Army. They had killed several post horses but
even so had not arrived ahead of rumors of the disaster to Taglian
arms.

"Our enemies have been here before us," the
Goblin-thing said. He wanted to be called Khadidas, Slave of Khadi.
The girl simply refused to address him by that appellation.
"These people have been warned and threatened but they will
raise no hand against you because of who they think you are."
Not because of who she was.

The Daughter of Night played Protector with a blend of arrogance
and small-mindedness nothing like her aunt's but the garrison
commanders found her sufficiently convincing. And she ached every
second because it was clear that these unbelievers would never
yield themselves to the service of the Dark Mother. She knew that
they would have tried to destroy her had they known she was not her
aunt. This world deserved the Year of Skulls.

The aura the girl radiated got her through her brief
confrontations.

"I'm exhausted," she whined to Goblin.
"I'm not used to riding."

"We can't stop here."

"I can't go on."

"You will go on. Until you are safe." The
Khadidas's voice left no doubt who it believed to be in
charge. "There is a holy place not many leagues further.
We'll go there."

"The Grove of Doom." There was no enthusiasm in the
girl's response. "I don't want to go there. I
don't like that place."

"We will be stronger there."

"It'll be the first place they'll look for us.
If they don't already have soldiers there waiting." She
knew that was unlikely. Those people were not yet prepared to tell
their soldiers that the woman inside the black leather was not
the
Protector anymore, but they did have the capacity to move their
game pieces from afar. They seemed able to thwart the Goddess
whenever they liked.

She said, "They already know what we're going to do.
Because we just talked about it."

"We're going to the Grove. I will be much stronger
there." No argument would be allowed.

The Daughter of Night was no less devoted to her spiritual
mother today but she did not like this creature who bore a fragment
of Kina inside him. She found it difficult to articulate even to
herself, but she missed Narayan. She missed him because he had
loved her. And she, in her self-centered way, had loved him enough
in return that now her life was one ongoing trail of loneliness and
desolation . . . leading where? This new hand
of the Goddess seemed incapable of any emotion but anger. And he
refused flatly to indulge her in any way, or even to acknowledge
her humanity.

She was a tool. That she was a living thing with wants and
emotions all her own was just an annoyance, a nuisance, an
inconvenience. There was an ever stronger implication that she
should learn to abandon her distractive qualities. Or else.

Goblin said, "We need a place where we can be safe and our
power is strong because there is much we need to do before we
commence the actual rite of resurrection." By which the
Daughter of Night understood him to mean bringing on the Year of
the Skulls.

She became attentive despite her inclination to be rebellious.
It sounded like the Khadidas was going to impart some real
information at last. Hitherto, the possessed little man had done
nothing more than present his bonafides, then tell her what to do.
They had been together for only a few days but throughout them he
had been completely unforthcoming.

She asked, "How can we possibly bring on the Year of the
Skulls? Our cult has been exterminated. I doubt that there are a
hundred devout believers left in the entire world."

"There will be hands enough to undertake the holy task.
Narayan Singh did well in his last years. But before we bring them
together we must recover the Books of the Dead."

The Daughter of Night had to pass on the cruel truth that had
been used to torment her all the while she had been a captive of
the Black Company. "The Books of the Dead no longer exist.
The woman who commands our cruelest enemies burned them personally.
Not even a scrap survived. The monster that dwells in the place of
glittering stone, that prevents my mother from rising, had the
ashes scattered throughout all the realms that touch upon the demon
plain."

"That's true." The Khadidas grinned evilly.
"But books are knowledge. The knowledge contained within the
Books of the Dead is not lost. The knowledge also resides within
the Goddess herself. And whatsoever there was within her that
needed to be brought forth into this world she placed within me
before she sent me forth."

"You know the Books of the Dead by heart?"

"I do. Which is why we must find our one safe place. The
scriptures are no good locked up inside me. They must be out, in
written form, to assume their full power. They must be there so
that the cantor priests can sing from them continuously during the
time of resurrection. Come. We must travel faster."

The Daughter of Night hurried her pace, her exhaustion pushed
back briefly by the stunning implications of what she had just
heard.

The holy books were not lost!

She was ashamed that she had suffered even a slight wavering of
faith.


Chapter 78 

Midway Between: Bad News

People began to
scurry as though in near panic. I knew the signs. News had come in
and it was not good. I suspected the cavalry force sent to probe
the defenses at Ghoja had suffered some major misfortune.

I headed for Sleepy's tent without being summoned. By the
time I ducked inside I had overheard a half dozen rumors already,
not a one of them reassuring.

Generating rumors is one thing even the most inept armed force
does exceedingly well.

Sleepy was heads-together with Suvrin and Runmust, Riverwalker
and several brigade commanders from Hsien. Tobo was there but was
goofy with painkillers. Howler and Shukrat were not present. Tobo
looked a little peeved. My guess was that he had brought the bad
news but could not keep himself together well enough to contribute
anything beyond his report.

I had given up on him. If he wanted to cruise around on a post
trying to do things while he was all busted up and in casts I was
not going to nag him anymore. He had a half-crazy mom to handle
that.

Sleepy glanced my way, for a second revealed extreme irritation.
That turned to resignation as other former Captains let themselves
in behind me. Even Willow Swan invited himself to sit in.

Sleepy did face a unique challenge. No other Captain in the
Company's history has had such a cabal of ex-Captains looking
over his shoulder. Even though none of us intrude, or even offer
much unsolicited advice, Sleepy's particular insecurities
leave her feeling like she is being judged whenever she had to
Captain in front of us. And, of course, she is, though like proper
old ladies we do it only behind her back.

"Since everybody but the cooks and grooms is here, I
suppose I should get on . . . No. Tobo is here.
He can tell it better than I." She deferred to the kid as
soon as her gaze fell upon him. I glared at her. She had no
business putting him through . . . 

Tobo's eyes focused. He shut them, took a cleansing
breath, started talking. "The hidden folk have been tracking
Goblin and Booboo the best they can, though it's hard even
when we know what route they have to take." He was something
less than intimidating, strapped into position aboard a Voroshk
flying log, so covered with casts and splints that he was able to
use only one hand. "They travel inside a fog of, for want of
a better description, divine darkness and confusion. By knowing
their route, though, I was able to have the Black Hounds seed the
way with snail shells . . . I got lucky. One of
the hidden folk eavesdropped on an argument between Goblin and the
girl." His words came in a soft, swift gush that forced his
audience to stay quiet and lean forward.

Tobo paused. For effect, I would have suspected in normal
circumstances. The kid liked his drama.

The boy made the grim announcement, "The thing inside
Goblin knows the Books of the Dead by heart. Once the Daughter of
Night transcribes them they plan to start the rites associated with
initiating the Year of the Skulls."

Fox in the henhouse, oh, my, oh!

It took Sleepy several minutes to get everyone settled down. In
the interim Tobo grabbed the opportunity to relax. When a measure
of calm returned he said, "That's not as bad as it
sounds. Remember, there're only two people involved. Should
we kill either one, the resurrection fails. For the rest of our
century and beyond. And, as anyone who ever worked on the Annals
will tell you at great length, it takes a long time to write a
book. Even if you're just copying. I saw the Books of the
Dead before Sleepy destroyed them. They were huge. And the Daughter
of Night will have to transcribe them error-free. So we don't
exactly face an immediate crisis even though this is trouble that
we never anticipated."

I jumped in. "If you got one of your critters close enough
to find out all that then you probably know right where they are.
We can set up some kind of ambush." Lady and Howler were
supposed to have been ransacking the cobwebby cellars of their
minds in an effort to recall some ancient device whereby Goblin and
the girl might be distracted, disoriented, distressed and
destroyed. Or just disarmed, in the case of my missus. Realist and
pragmatist though she was, she nevertheless nurtured a blind bit of
self-delusion wherein she would turn Booboo around. Though she
would never admit that, of course.

Tobo said, "All right, Master Strategist, Architect of the
Destruction of the Shadowmaster Evil, tell me how you ambush
somebody you fall in love with before they get inside crossbow
range."

"Kid has a point," Lady said, eyeing me
expectantly.

"Your snail-shell lurker didn't fall in love with
her, did it? It just hunkered down there and eavesdropped till it
decided to come running to you with its gossip."

"And?"

"So the Unknown Shadows aren't affected by the
Daughter of Night. Is the opposite true?"

"They couldn't do her much physical harm."

"Skryker? Black Shuck? That big old jumping duck thing?
You're shitting me."

"No, really."

"Well, they really wouldn't have to, anyway, would
they? They'd just need to haunt her. Keep interfering with
her sleep. Driving her crazy. Jogging her elbow whenever she tries
to write. Really be guilty of all the annoyances they're
blamed for back in Hsien. They could piss in her inkwell. They
could hide her pens. They could spill stuff on whatever she's
trying to write. They could make food go bad and milk turn
sour."

"They could keep her husband from performing on her
wedding night," Sleepy snapped. "You're roaming a
little far into the future, Croaker. And possibly targeting the
wrong victim. The Goblin thing is the one who has the Books of the
Dead locked up inside his gourd. He might be able to manage without
the Daughter of Night. I'm pretty sure she can't manage
without him."

Points worth considering.

"Both are just ephemeral tools," Sahra announced in
a hollow, oracular voice. "Both can be replaced. In time. So
long as Kina herself persists the threat from the glittering plain
lives on."

That took all the cheer right out of the gathering.

Everybody stared at Tobo's mother, the injured boy himself
included. There was a creepy feeling to her, like something had
taken control of her, to speak using her mouth.

Murgen later said Sahra had looked and sounded exactly like her
grandmother, Hong Tray, when she issued her prophecies, decades
ago.

She scared the shit out of Murgen and Tobo both. They used all
the energy they could muster to insist that Sleepy's concern
about Goblin and the Daughter of Night was not yet critical.


Chapter 79 

The Taglian Territories: In Motion

Sleepy reaffirmed
her determination to move north. We limped along, accommodating the
injured. We encountered no direct resistance at Ghoja, though
forces loyal to the Protector had damaged the main span of the
great bridge over the Main. It took our engineers more than a week
to restore the bridge. Throughout that week the Prahbrindrah Drah
and his sister preached to the people and soldiers of Ghoja. They
managed to win the hearts and allegiance of the majority.

The Prince was quite good with people when we let him run around
loose. He preached his own restoration with an evangelical passion.
He won particular favor amongst old folks nostalgic for the quiet
changelessness that had characterized the world of their
youth--before the coming of the Shadowmasters and the Black
Company.

Except for a small memorial pasture where the fighting had been
bloodiest, the battlefield on the north bank, where the Company had
won a signal victory in what seemed like another lifetime, was
completely built over. Back then there had been a hamlet and
watchtower on the south bank, beside a ford that could be crossed
only half the year. Now Ghoja threatened to become a city. The
bridge, begun at my suggestion ages ago, was a strategic gem both
militarily and commercially. There were strong forts and big
markets on both banks now.

The girl and the Goblin thing should have done more to keep us
from crossing over.

We made camp twelve miles north of the bridge, in rough, bare
country still not claimed by peasants. I doubt that it was good for
much but pasture. Which meant it was a wasteland amongst
vegetarians. But had the ground been better I doubt many farmers
would have immigrated. It was too near the high holy place of the
Deceivers, the Grove of Doom.

We left the Prince and his sister at Ghoja, along with many
native recruits. Sleepy thought it was time the royals got a taste
of independence. She was confident that they would not conspire
against the Company again. They had been included in our councils
often enough to know that Tobo's hidden folk would always be
close by.

Ten hours after we set camp, in the middle of the night, Sleepy
changed her mind. She wanted to move a little closer to Taglios, to
get between the City and the Grove of Doom.

I was awake when Riverwalker brought the news, writing by
lamplight and keeping an eye on our injured. Some of them had not
weathered the journey well. I was concerned about Soulcatcher in
particular.

The change in plan did not irritate me as deeply as it did Lady.
She had to be dragged out of a deep sleep. The way she snarled and
threatened great evils left me wondering if she had not begun
having nightmares again.

Riverwalker murmured, whispered. "I'm getting me a
head start."

"Run, River, run. You'll need every yard you can
get."

Lady gave me a look that made me wonder if I should not yell at
him to wait up.

We established the new camp near a dense stand of trees which, I
learned, surrounded and masked a sprawling Shadowlander cemetery
that hailed from the first Shadowmaster invasion of the Taglian
Territories. From before the Company's arrival. Almost no one
knew about that. I had not, though I had campaigned in the region.
Of the entire host only Suvrin showed any interest. He thought he
might have a relative or two tucked away there.

He would have plenty of opportunity to visit tombs and graves.
Sleepy planned to stay put, recruiting and training and harrying
the edge of the Grove of Doom while Tobo and our other casualties
recuperated. The trouble with the cemetery was, time had vandalized
most of the Shadowlanders' slapdash grave markers.

The Goblin-thing and the Daughter of Night settled down, too,
and they really did nothing but sit. They did not begin
transcribing the Books of the Dead because they had no supplies.
They did not consult with Deceivers making pilgrimages into the
holy grove. Those men we left alone, every future step to be dogged
by Unknown Shadows so we could follow their routines once they
returned to their home environments. There were not many Stranglers
left alive. This way we could find out who those few were.

Handy as it is, being able to see whatever you want takes a lot
of getting used to.

The Grove of Doom was always a cruel and wicked place, filled
with ancient darkness. The hidden folk hated it but they endured
going in for Tobo's sake.

Their devotion to the boy gets scary when I think about it too
much.

Gromovol and Arkana were mending at a pace equaling
Tobo's, which was amazing but not magical. Gromovol's
arrogance remained undiminished by misfortune. Arkana was
understandably withdrawn.

Soulcatcher worried me increasingly. Not only did she show no
improvement, she seemed to be growing weaker. She was headed right
down the grim trail Sedvod had blazed.

There was a lot of sentiment favoring letting her slide, and for
possibly easing Gromovol along the same dark path while he was
sleeping. The jury remained out on Arkana even though the hidden
folk had exculpated her in all ways but calculation and
manipulation. There were random moments, widely separated, when I
felt sorry for the girl.

I remembered the loneliness.

I was the only one who would talk to her, excepting Gromovol.
She turned her back on him every time he tried to do so. During our
reluctant chats I tried to learn more about her homeworld and,
especially, Khatovar. But she did not have much to say. She knew
nothing. She had a full measure of youth's indifference to
the past.

Shukrat shunned Arkana completely.

Shukrat was almost pathetically eager to fit in. Shukrat really
wanted to belong. I have a strong feeling she did not belong before
she joined us. And maybe Arkana had, which might illuminate
Shukrat's spite toward her now.


Chapter 80 

The Taglian Territories: In Camp

Life is never like
a canal, flowing gently through a straightforward and predictable
channel. It is more like a mountain brook, zigging and zagging,
tearing things up, sometimes going almost dormant before taking an
unexpected and turbulent turn.

I was setting out some similar proposition to Lady and Shukrat
while examining Tobo to see if he dared put any weight on the
broken leg. He thought he was feeling better and was getting
extremely restless, which is usually a sign that the patient is,
indeed, getting better but is not nearly as far advanced as he
wants to believe. We were in my VIP hospital. Soulcatcher and
Arkana were present as well. Shukrat was putting on a show, fussing
over Tobo while making it clear that Arkana no longer existed. Lady
was on her knees beside her sister's pallet, hands flat on
her thighs, motionless. She had stayed that way for almost an hour.
For a while I thought she was meditating. Or she had gone into some
sort of trance. Now I was starting to worry.

The women looked more like mother and daughter than sisters.
Poor Lady. Against the years all men campaign in vain. And of late,
time has been particularly unkind to my love.

Now that we were settled and had little to do but wait for
people to mend, Lady spent time with Soulcatcher every day. She
could not explain it herself.

She finally came around, looked back, asked the question that
tormented her. "She's dying, isn't
she?"

"I think so." I admitted. "And I don't
know why. It looks like the same thing that got the Voroshk kid. So
I don't know how to turn it around. Howler doesn't know
how, either."
Though the screaming sorcerer never had been renowned for his
skills as a healer.

"Goblin must've done something to her but it
isn't sorcery." I added, "Not that anybody
recognizes. And it isn't any of the diseases I see in the
field." In most armies more soldiers die of dysentery than
fall to enemy arms. I am proud that that has never been true in my
army.

Lady nodded. She resumed staring at her sister. "I wonder
what it is. Something Goblin did. We'd have to wake her up to
find out, wouldn't we?" After a heartbeat, "The
little bastard was right there when Sedvod took sick, too.
Wasn't he?"

"I'm afraid so." I passed Tobo to Shukrat.
"Take it easy on him, girl. Or we'll need to get you
two a separate tent."

Tobo blushed. Shukrat grinned. I turned to Arkana. "You
think you're ready to take up your dancing career
again?"

"Is nothing ever serious with you?"

She caught me by surprise. Frivolity was not a crime often
attached to my name. "Absolutely. None of us are going to get
out of this alive so we might as well grab a laugh while we
can." So One-Eye used to claim. "Cranky this
morning?" I leaned forward and whispered, "I would be,
too. Broken bones are no fun. I know. I've had a few. But try
to smile. You're through the worst of it."

She put on her best scowl. The worst of it was still inside her
head. She might never recover emotionally. She had not been brought
up in a place and station where it was even conceivable that such
horrors could overtake her.

"Look at it this way, child. No matter how bad you think
it is right now, it can always get worse. I've been in the
soldier racket a long time and I promise you, that's a
natural law."

"How could my life be worse than this?"

"Think about it. You could be back home. Where you'd
be dead. And you would've gone through hell getting that way.
Or you could be a prisoner instead of my guest. Which means that
every day could be like your one bad day.
There're plenty of guys out there who think we let you off
too easy. Which reminds me of another natural law. Once
you're outside the circle of people who agree that
you're special, you're just another human body. And
that's hardly ever a good situation for a woman. You're
actually better off here, where we have women running stuff, than
you would be almost anywhere else."

Arkana retreated inside herself, evidently thinking that I was
threatening her. I was not. I was just thinking out loud.
Maundering. Old men do that.

I told her, "You need to take it out on somebody, put
Gromovol's name at the head of your list."

Lady said, "She's the only connection I have left
with ninety percent of my life. The only connection with my
family."

The stream takes its wild turns.

"You do anything that saves her, the first thing
she'll do when she gets on her feet is try to cut you off at
the knees and make you dance on the stumps."

Tobo started to say something. I poked him. We had discussed
this several times. His opinion was bloody-minded.

"I know. I know. But every time I turn around it seems
like someone else is gone and we're getting to be more and
more alien . . . "

"I understand. I've felt completely dislocated in
time since One-Eye died. There's almost nothing left of my
past." The nearest thing was come-lately Murgen. Lady and I
had chosen the way--and now we were refugees from our own place and
time. Though why should I be surprised at this late date? That was
what the Company always was: the gathering of the landless, the
hopeless, the fugitive and the outcast.

I sighed. Was I about to start creating another past as an
emotional crutch?

I knelt beside Lady. "I don't think she'll
last more than another week. I'm having trouble getting food
down her. And more keeping it there. But I've thought of
something we can do to stall death. And maybe even get a sound
diagnosis."

Lady turned a gaze on me so intense I shuddered, recalling
ancient times, when I was a captive in the Lady's Tower at
Charm and about to face the Eye of Truth. "I'm
listening."

I noted that, even now, she would not touch her sister. There
was a strong selfish underpinning to her emotions. She wanted to
save this mad devil sister entirely for her own sake.

"We can take her to Shivetya. We know he can cure
Howler . . . "

"He says he can. Telling us what we want to
hear."

What Howler wanted to hear. I had no emotion invested in the
runt's well-being. I thought the world would be improved by
his extermination.

Lady's tone did not support her words. A spark of hope had
been struck.

I said, "Let's have Howler get another carpet put
together, then we'll slip away to the glittering plain, get
him fixed up and find out what Shivetya can do for Soulcatcher.
Even if he can't do anything we can stash her in the ice
cavern till we have time to research what's wrong with her.
That ought to be a real challenge for Tobo."

That was the course I preferred. I figured that once we
installed Soulcatcher in the cave of the ancients Lady would lose
interest eventually. The effect on the world at large would be the
same as if we had killed her right away while Lady could sustain
her tether to her roots via the pretense that she would jump in and
resurrect her sister one day soon.

Lady said, "I like that idea. I'll see how soon
Howler can get a carpet put together."

"All right." I peeled back one of
Soulcatcher's eyelids. I saw nothing promising. I got the
feeling that her essence might be absent, out wandering, lost.
Paybacks, Murgen might say, if that was true.

As soon as she left, Tobo said, "You're up to
something besides what you told her, aren't you?"

"Me?" I shrugged. "I have some ideas. Some of
them I might have to clear with the Captain."

Shukrat then said something that rained her dumb blonde image
for me. "You know the reason that Soulcatcher followed you
all down here from the north is the same reason that Lady wants to
save her now? I'll bet that if she really wanted to badly
enough she could've killed you all just about any time she
wanted."

I stared. I looked at Tobo. I stared some more.

Shukrat reddened. She murmured, "Neither one of them ever
learned how to say, `I love you.' "

I understood. It was the same thing Goblin and One-Eye had had
going for all those years, at a somewhat less lethal level. When
they were sober. It was the sort of thing I see all the time
amongst my brethren, who cannot, or believe that they dare not,
express their real feelings. I added, "Only those two
don't even know they need to say it."


Chapter 81 

The Shadowlander Military Cemetery:
Laying To Rest

Willow Swan stuck
his head into the tent. "Croaker. Murgen. Anybody who's
interested. Sahra's ready to do her thing with Thai Dei and
Uncle Doj."

About damned time, I thought but did not say. There were
moments, lately, when I wanted to have the whole damned Nyueng Bao
Community lined up and spanked. They had dragged the two corpses a
hundred fifty miles while they argued bitterly about what to do
with them. I did manage to keep my mouth shut but kept wanting to
scream, "They don't care anymore! Do something! They
smell. Bad!" Not the sort of thing you do with grieving
relatives, of course. Not unless you feel like you have developed a
shortage of enemies.

The Nyueng Bao had prepared a pair of ghats in a prominent place
near the center of the Shadowlander military cemetery. Though only
a few swamp folk remained with us those survivors were gathered in
cliques, according to the funeral option they believed best honored
the dead.

Who would believe a funeral could become savagely political? But
people can find reasons to squabble about almost anything.

Thai Dei's send-off was less controversial, of course. He
had not believed in much of anything but his own honor, himself. A
ritualistic passage through the purifying flame for a warrior who
would not bend, troubled only a couple of conservative old-timers
who thought the ceremonies too foreign. Uncle Doj was the great
bone of contention.

With Doj the burning group were in dispute with the exposure
group, who wanted to lay the corpse out on a high platform and
leave it till its bones were clean.

This was supposed to be the proper send-off for a high priest of
the Path of the Sword--though no one could say how, why or when that
idea had arisen. None of the men from Hsien, some of whom had grown
up in Hsien's martial arts monasteries, had heard of any such
practice there. The people of Hsien buried their dead. Doj's
cronies insisted that his predecessors had been exposed exactly the
way they wanted to do him now.

As we filed past the ghats, each tossing on an herb packet and a
folded piece of paper carrying a prayer the fire would send along
with the dead, Suvrin suggested, "They might have acquired
the custom when they first passed through my country. Some of the
peoples back home, back then, did expose corpses that they were
especially afraid would be seized by skinwalkers."

Skinwalkers again. One of those monsters no one has ever seen,
like vampires and werewolves. With all the real monsters loose in
the world, seen and suffered often enough, why did so many people
trouble themselves about things no reliable witness ever saw?
"Wouldn't fire work just as well?"

"Burning wasn't acceptable. It isn't even in
modern times, even though so many northerners have come across the
Dandha Presh."

I grunted. It must have to do with religion and religion seldom
makes sense to me.

"The common people, the poor, anyone that wouldn't
attract a skinwalker, gets a normal burial. Just like here."
He indicated the graves around us. "People who might attract
a skinwalker will be exposed. So there won't be a good suit
of skin to steal." He gestured. "The above-ground
tombs. They must contain priests and captains who were being stored
temporarily, until they could be properly exposed. Their army must
have been hard-pressed. They never got back to deal with
it."

Actually, I could see several fallen collections of poles with
bits of rag and bone beneath that might have been exposure
platforms a long time ago. "Looks like your skinwalkers
never got here to take advantage, either."

That earned me a scowl.

I was not quite sure why Suvrin was Sleepy's favorite and
probable designated successor. But I never understood why Murgen
picked Sleepy, either. Yet he had chosen well. She had brought the
Company through the Kiaulune wars and the era of the Captivity. And
there had been a lot of raised eyebrows when I had chosen Murgen to
become Annalist. And Murgen had managed despite never having been
quite certain of his sanity.

Sleepy saw something.

Suvrin did not agree. Suvrin insisted that he was going to leave
us. But I noted that he had passed up several wonderful
opportunities to do so already.

As was her right, being Thai Dei's closest surviving
relative, Sahra asked Murgen to join her and Tobo in placing the
torches into Thai Dei's pyre. Fitting, I thought, although
the old men grumbled. Murgen and Thai Dei had been as close as
brothers for a long, long time.

Sahra asked no one but Tobo to help bring the fire to Doj.

Even I saluted the dead swordmaster, though in life I never
trusted him.

Lady leaned against me from my left. "I suppose
you'll have to admit that he was trustworthy now." Mind
reading.

"I don't have to admit any such thing. He just
kicked off before he could screw us over."

"No fool like an old fool."

I stopped arguing. She would win every debate by dint of
outliving me. I changed the subject. "You still feel like
you're getting stronger?" For an age now she had been
able to steal almost no supernatural power from Kina. But long ago
she had been able to parasitize enough to come close to being
Soulcatcher's equal. She believed Goblin's attack on
the Goddess was why there was so little power left to steal.

It seemed reasonable to me that Goblin returning as Kina's
tool would mean fresh power available but it had not worked that
way. Not until Goblin and the girl had entered the Grove of
Doom.

"It's coming. Little by little." She sounded
like she did not want to wait. "I can do a few parlor tricks
now." The way she thought, that might mean she was limited to
destroying small villages with a single wink. "I need to get
closer to see what helps."

I did not follow up. I could feel her excitement. She hid it
well but if I got her going she would drive me nuts talking about
stuff that was entirely beyond me.

I could do that, too, either going on with my theories about
diseases or about the Company's history.

Definitely a match made in heaven.

I told her, "Soon as we're done paying our respects,
how about you see Howler? Find out if my idea gets him moving on
the carpets any faster."

"If you give him what he wants now he won't have any
incentive to stay with us."

"Where's he gonna run to?"

"He'll find somewhere. He always has."

And, somehow, that always ended up in our way. "Then I
expect we'll push him hard to get us a couple, three carpets.
And you can hang around playing apprentice while he does, sister
Shukrat."

"Yech! No way! He's creepy. He stinks. And he has
more hands than some of those four-armed Gunni gods."

"He's little," Tobo called from the chair we
had brought along so he could rest between ceremonial stints.
"Spank him."

"That's probably what he wants."

"Get somebody to carry me around and I'll go with
you," Tobo told Shukrat. "I make the Howler nervous.
Croaker. What'll we call him if Shivetya cures his
screaming?"

"Stinky might work. Or the Stinker for formal."

The flames of the funeral pyres leapt higher. Tobo ignored me
now. I let it drop, too. Time to say goodbye, old man. They never
took the oath but Thai Dei and Doj were brothers in their hearts.
They stories were warp and woof of the Company tapestry.


Chapter 82 

With the Company: Going South

Sleepy always saw
idleness as a vacuum in need of filling. No way was she going to
put up with ten thousand men sitting around, maybe spending an hour
or two each day training. When they were feeling particularly
ambitious.

Just miles away stood a perfectly ugly wood desperately in need
of clear-cutting.

You put a whole lot of people to work on a place like that,
starting from the outside and working inward, making sure you get
even the tiniest twigs and shoots, you can get some great bonfires
burning. The evening of the second day the soldiers had one entire
horizon hidden behind ramparts of smoke.

Sleepy was daring Goblin and the girl to come show us what they
had.

I had doubts about the wisdom of that. Sleepy was not impressed
enough with the fact that Goblin had a slice of Kina stuffed inside
him. And Kina's bad-ass reputation was well-deserved.

But I was not the boss. I could advise but I could not make
anyone listen. My worries just earned me one of Sleepy's
enigmatic smiles.

"You ready to go for a fly?" Lady asked.
"Howler's got a carpet ready."

"You in a hurry?"

"You told me Sileth's only got a week. That was
three days ago."

"I did, didn't I? How big is that carpet?"

"Big enough."

"I mean it, hon. It's got to have room for six
people."

She stared. After several seconds she said, "I don't
think I'm even going to ask. Except maybe who."

"You and Soulcatcher. Howler. Gromovol. Arkana if she
wants to go."

"Still playing games, Love?"

"No game. Progress. We lost the most promising one of
those kids when Magadan got killed. That was a bad career move on
his part. Gromovol is as useless as teats on a bull. I'd just
as soon kill him. But if we give him back to those two old Voroshk
demons Shivetya's got tied up down there we might score a
point or two."

She frowned.

"Thought you were the master manipulator of the greatest
empire . . . " She pointed a finger. An
invisible darning needle began to sew my lips together. She was
getting the power back. "I'll just explain then, shall
I?"

"There's the man I married."

Bullshit. But I was not going to argue. "We got the top
two Voroshk locked up out there on the plain. They've got no
home anymore, far as we know. As far as Shivetya is letting anybody
know. They have no future, nowhere to go. An apparent act of
kindness might add a couple of heavyweights to our ranks just when
it would be handy to have them."

"You're evil."

"I try. Let me go blow in Arkana's ear."

"You do and you'll wake up in the morning wondering
how long before you get your first hot flash."

Well, well. Maybe that explained some recent crankiness. Hers.
Mine was caused by the iron-strapped, rock-headed obtuseness of the
people who insisted on tangling my feet. That was a whole different
hunk of monkey meat.

I went to blow in Arkana's ear. Verbally.

"I'm not going to give Gromovol a choice," I
told Arkana. "This is a chance for me to maybe make peace
with his old man. Which is the only good that can ever come of the
idiot. If I keep him here he'll eventually do something
stupider than anything he's done already. I've told you
before, I've been in this racket a long time. When you come
up with a liability as big as Gromovol you look for a way to use
him. Or you kill him. I've been getting soft in my twilight
years."

Her skeptical expression told me how well I had sold that fairy
tale.

"You, you're special. You get choices. You can go
back if you want. You can tag along for the visit and stay with us
when we're done. Or you can hang around here and not go at
all."

"Oh, I'll go. I can't not. I'll decide
what else I need to do after we get there."

We went aloft by night, under the light of a full moon, with
Lady, Soulcatcher, Gromovol and Arkana aboard Howler's new
carpet. Tobo, Shukrat, Murgen and I witched along on flying posts.
Despite Sleepy's objections, and Tobo's aches and
pains, Tobo insisted on coming along because Shukrat was coming. So
Murgen rode with me because Sahra refused to fly. The youngsters
larked about us fearlessly, engaged in some dragonfly mating
ritual.

Murgen and I dropped out briefly at Dejagore. Sleepy insisted we
check up on Blade and his occupation force.

Drifting down toward Dejagore's citadel, I asked,
"You think Sahra's been having visions or
something?"

"Huh?" Murgen's thoughts had been
wandering.

"This frantic mother stuff. I swear she keeps getting
worse. I thought you might have noticed her having psychic
seizures. Or something."

"She don't talk about it. If she does."

"What do you think?"

"I think that if she hasn't she's definitely
afraid that she might start."

"Yeah?"

"When we were young she worried about turning into her
mother."

"Sometimes she's damned crabby."

"She's no Gota the Troll, though. Her body
doesn't hurt her enough. So now she's terrified
she's going to turn into Hong Tray. Her
grandmother."

"And?"

"And maybe she will. She's started to look like the
old woman did. Whenever she starts cranking about it I remind her
how calm and accepting Hong Tray always was. Like a solid rock in a
wild river."

"Doesn't work, does it?"

"Not for a second. Well. Somebody must've smelled us
coming."

We had not yet settled to the top of the citadel tower, but
Blade and his chief lieutenants were there to meet us. Blade called
up, "We were expecting Tobo, the way the shadows were all
spooked up."

"You got lucky. The kid's hurt so you get the old
farts instead. Captain wants us to check up on you. So you give us
a couple of good drinks, we'll tell her you're doing a
kickass job, no need to even think about you guys."

"I think we can handle that."


Chapter 83 

Taglios: Decision

The sharpest-eyed
spy can be misdirected or deluded if you know he is watching.
Having been of the Company once and having been victimized by the
Company more than once, the Great General understood its policy of
deception. His understanding had served him well during the
Kiaulune wars, where the trickery had gotten the best of him
rarely. He and Aridatha Singh were observing large-scale close
order drills from the wall of a fortress that bestrode a hill just
south of Taglios. The soldiers had begun to show some interest in
improving their skills lately. The approach of a powerful enemy was
a mighty motivator.

The Great General asked, "They all went?"

"I've had the report from two independent sources
within the last hour. They went out right after moonrise. A flying
carpet and three flying poles. They headed south. They passed close
enough to Haband's tree for him to identify the Howler, Lady,
Croaker, Murgen, the boy wizard and three of those white wizard
children I saw when I visited. They aren't worried about
us."

"There'd be more of those."

"I'm sure the rumor is true. I've had it
confirmed too many times. They're dead."

The Great General refused to take anything at face value where
those people were concerned. "Where would they go?"

"Maybe something's happened at Dejagore. Or farther
south."

Farther south would have to be beyond the Dandha Presh. Support
for the Protector had evaporated outside those territories still
directly under the Great General's control, near as his
agents could determine, though there had been no outbreaks of
enthusiasm for the return of the royals. The mood of the empire was
indifferent, excepting amongst those who could profit, one way or
another.

Same as it always was, Mogaba reflected.

Mogaba played with a snail shell as he talked. Doing so seemed
almost a tick anymore. But he startled Aridatha by popping his arm
back suddenly, snapping the shell out as hard as he could throw.
"Time for a full-scale field exercise. Let's find out
how good their intelligence is with wonder boy away."

Aridatha asked a few brisk questions. These days he commanded
the division that would form the left wing of Mogaba's army.
It was backboned by his own City Battalions.

The Great General said, "Make all your preparations
exactly as you would if we were going down there to fight. Issue
appropriate rations. But prepare in a relaxed manner. We just want
to see how ready we are. So we know where we need to do more work.
Don't encourage questions. And from now on I want to see our
spies personally when they bring in news."

Aridatha went away wondering what Mogaba really had in mind.

The Great General sent for the rest of his staff and commanders.
He spent a particularly long time, in bright midday sun, conferring
with his cavalry captains.


Chapter 84 

Beside the Cemetery: Confusion

Willow Swan stuck
his head into Sleepy's cabin, which had been built for her
from the better logs harvested from the Grove of Doom.
"Another contact with Mogaba's cavalry. Three miles
west of the Rock Road."

This happened periodically. It was one way the Great General
kept track of his enemies. The probes became more numerous when
Mogaba wanted to provoke a response. Sleepy grunted,
untroubled.

"I'm a little concerned," Swan told her.
"This time they're pushing harder. Since we don't
have any good way to get anything out of the hidden folk who
didn't run off after Tobo, we don't have any idea what
Mogaba is doing. We're as blind as he is."

"Is his main force maneuvering behind his cavalry
screen?"

"I get that impression."

"Then he's trying to harass us into another
panic." Twice already Taglian forces had come south and
demonstrated until Sleepy responded, whereupon they had retreated
rapidly. Mogaba was trying to get his virgins some
confidence-building experience under the stress of near-battle. No
doubt he would push them a little closer this time. "Run one
brigade up behind the pickets and have them make a lot of noise.
Keep another brigade in camp. Everyone else can see to their normal
business. I think we're due for a reaction from the Daughter
of Night pretty soon."

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.


Chapter 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 pieces 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.


Chapter 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.


Chapter 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.

A close encounter with scissors, comb and a tub of warm water
would not have been amiss, either. Tangled wisps of fine white hair
floated all around his head and face. I thought bits might begin
floating away, like seeds from a dandelion.

The inside of the fortress was completely creepy. I never
relaxed there. It rubbed me the same way Uncle Doj always had.
Wrong. Suspiciously wrong. In a quiet, unobtrusive way. A way that
left me incapable of relaxing. Baladitya zeroed in on Murgen,
wanting to know all about how Sleepy was doing, about how his old
friend Master Santaraksita was doing, about how Tobo was. He had
the Annalist bug. Also, though he had chosen his life out here for
the intellectual adventure, he did miss people.

I suspect the Voroshk were not excellent company. They probably
whined constantly in a language he did not understand, making no
effort to communicate other than by yelling louder and slower.

I glanced upward, wondering when the others would get around to
showing up. Then I strolled away a few steps, to the outer fringe
of the dome of sourceless light that illuminated Baladitya's
work area. I stared at the vast, indistinct bulk of the demon
Shivetya.

The darkness around the devil was deeper than I recalled it,
deeper than others had recorded it. The great wooden throne was
equally ill-defined. The humanoid bulk nailed to the throne by
means of silver daggers seemed less substantial than I remembered.
I wondered if the golem became more ethereal as he gave of himself
to sustain his guests.

Visitors have to eat. Shivetya sustains his guests and allies by
exuding large, mushroomlike growths of manna. I recall the taste as
slightly sweet and mildly spicy in that way that leaves you trying
to figure out exactly what the spice might be. Just a few bites
provide immense energy and boost your confidence dramatically. But
nobody gets fat eating the stuff. In fact, it is a little repulsive
and you do not touch it until you are hungry or hurting.

Obviously, Shivetya himself was not going to remain chubby
forever, either.

I realized that big red eyes had opened. Shivetya was regarding
me with more interest than I was regarding him.

The golem did not speak aloud. We believed that it could not.
When it chose to communicate it did so by speaking directly inside
your brain. Some found the experience no problem. I had not endured
it myself, to my recollection, so cannot describe it. If Shivetya
invaded my dreams during the half generation I lay enchanted in the
caverns below I had no recollection of that, either. I have no
memories whatsoever of that time.

Murgen and Lady do remember. Some. They will not discuss it.
They prefer to let what made it into the Annals speak for
itself.

It must not have been pleasant.

The shadows left Shivetya looking like he had a dog or
jackal's head, which sparked a momentary recollection of
childhood idols. I guess he was a sort of lord of the underworld.
He just did not do much recruiting.

One huge eye closed, then reopened. The demon of glittering
stone showing off his sense of humor. Knowing that wink would
obsess me for days.

Hands took hold of my arm. I glanced down. My sweetheart had
arrived. And in this dim light she looked much younger and happier.
I whispered, "You guys finally made it."

"Howler is turning into a timid little old man. He's
got the idea that he might have a future."

"Let's stroll off that direction about half a mile
and get lost for half an hour."

"Well. I'm certainly tempted. But I'm
wondering what's gotten into you."

I pinched her behind. She squeaked and swatted my arm. I said,
"Whoops!"

Both of Shivetya's eyes were turned our way now.

Lady said, "That sort of takes the edge off the moment,
doesn't it?"

It did. So did several pairs of eyes watching from where the
rest of the crowd were gathered. The youngsters in particular were
appalled.

"Oh, well. Life's a bitch."


Chapter 88 

Fortress with No Name: Recruiting
Excitement

The squabbling
amongst the Voroshk went on and on, seldom subsiding for long. I
suspect there were several occasions when those two old men wanted
to punish the rest of us but were held in check by Shivetya. Tobo
paid them no mind. He remained busy communing with Baladitya or the
golem. The latter seemed to be contributing to the boy's
already excessive arsenal of power.

Whenever it became too much for them, Arkana or Shukrat would
retreat to wherever I happened to be, usually ending up seated on
the floor, facing away from the family. "They're afraid
of you," Arkana explained. "They think you're the
real terror and Tobo is all for show. They think you destroyed our
world."

"I didn't destroy anything." Curious. Her
accent was not nearly as pronounced out here, when she wanted some
protection.

"I know that. You know it. Even they probably know. But
they don't want it to be their fault. Inside, they're
almost as bad as Gromovol and Sedvod. For a couple of hundred years
now to be Voroshk has meant to be perfect in every way. Without
fault."

"So how come all the arguing?"

"Because Shukrat wants to stay with you. Because Sedvod
died without proper rites. Because they don't want to believe
that Gromovol did so many really stupid things, including getting
Magadan killed. That'll really cause terrible Family
political trouble when the news gets back home. Magadan's
father is the First Father's brother and they really hate
each other."

Evidently the surviving Voroshk preferred to pretend that their
Family still ruled in a land not wasted by murderous shadows.

"And why are they yelling at you?"

Arkana sighed. She tucked her head down in between her knees,
where I could not get a good look at her expression. "I guess
because I really kind of said I don't think I want to go
home, either."

Arkana really used the word "really" a real lot.
"Despite what happened?"

"They don't know that part yet. They don't
need to know about it."

"They won't hear about it from me. But Gromovol
might . . . "

"Even Gromovol isn't stupid enough to talk about it.
There's no way he can talk his way out of that being his
fault. By the rules of our own people. If that came out even his
own father would desert him."

Wearing a somewhat dazed expression Shukrat retreated our way.
Arkana moved over a few feet but otherwise did not acknowledge her
existence. Neither did Shukrat deign to see Arkana. Shukrat settled
on the stone floor, arms around her legs and chin upon her knees.
There were tearstreaks on her cheeks.

"Well?" I said. "Do I need to go over there
and spank somebody for being rude to my little girls?"

Shukrat laughed weakly. "You'd have to hit the other
end. About ten thousand times. With a blacksmith's
hammer."

"Just to get their attention," Arkana said. Posed as
they were now the family resemblance was clear. Only when they were
up and moving under the direction of their divergent characters did
they seem so different.

The girls had a point. Even the destruction of their world had
not been enough to shake those two old boulders loose from their
dry riverbed of fixed thought.

I asked, "Arkana, are you pulled together now? Want to
come translate for me?" I could use the tongue of Juniper, of
course, but this would give her a chance to feel like she was
useful.

She thought about that for a moment. She exchanged glances with
Shukrat. Both girls looked at me.

I promised, "I'll only bully them a
little."

The older Voroshk were keeping their fangs sharp by gnawing on
Gromovol. If the kid had not fucked up so badly I might have felt
sorry for him. He did not have the option of returning to our
world. He would have to take whatever those two chose to hand
out.

"You've been a little hard on my girls," I
told the First Father. "Time to knock it off. Either one of
you bothered to go back and see how things turned out at
home?"

No response. Other than ugly looks.

"So you don't really know how things
stand . . . " An epiphany. "Arkana,
sweetie. They ran away. Coming after you kids was their excuse. And
when they used it up they couldn't go back. I'll bet
you Shivetya hasn't been forcing them to stay here at
all." I recalled that once there had been three of them.
Somebody must have gone. And maybe did not live to bring back
news.

Those old men were cowards? It fit.

For the first time in generations the Voroshk faced something
the Family could not overwhelm as easily as stamping a mouse. And
the only way some of them could deal with that was to run away.

These two would not want to go back now in case there were
survivors.

I said, "I'll be right back." I trotted over
to Tobo, interrupted, gave him the short version. "How long
are you going to be? Do I have time to take a run through the
Khatovar gate with those old men so we can find out what the
shadows really did do over there?"

The boy's eyes went blank.

When I was about ready to slap him to get his attention back he
refocused, told me, "Shivetya says that would be a huge
health risk. Shivetya says you're right about the Voroshk.
They did run away. Shivetya says more courageous members of the
clan are still active back there. A lot of shadows are active
there, too. Shivetya says the gate is growing closed. With almost
every surviving shadow on that side of it. Shivetya says leave it
alone. Shivetya says go ahead with your scheme. Shivetya says not
to worry about Khatovar. You can't reach it. Trying will only
get you killed. And it will still be there when everything else is
done."

Was that Tobo speaking or was the demon using his lips?
"Shivetya, I fear, contains an awful lot of stinky brown
stuff. For a guy who never eats."

"You think it's unreasonable, him being a little
selfish about the order things get done? Considering the scale of
his contributions?"

"Humbug." I stamped back to Arkana. I wondered how
anybody was supposed to murder a goddess--and survive it so the
Goddess's jailer could be hustled down the dark path right
behind her. "Sweetheart, tell those old farts that I want
them to fly out to your homeworld with me. That I want to see
what's happened there. And that I really do want to see
what's left of Khatovar."

Arkana took several little sideways steps that moved her around
in front of me, putting her back to Nashun and the First Father.
"You really mean that?"

Softly, because that half-wit Gromovol seemed to have become
interested in what was being said, I responded, "As far as
they need to know, I do."

The old men did not do much faking of any reason for avoiding a
trip home for a fact-finding tour. They did make it clear that they
would not go.

"What do you plan to do with your lives?" I asked.
"Shivetya won't let you loaf around here
forever."

They suspected they were about to be sucked into something. And
they were right, of course. I added, "The Company always has
room for a few good men." Or bad men, as the case might be. I
was not so sure about chickenshit and mediocre men--though having a
couple extra sorcerers sounded worthwhile enough to make the
try.

Trouble was, if I did seduce these two, how would I keep them
under control?

That sounded like something Lady ought to ponder. It was the
sort of question she had dealt with regularly before I stumbled
into her life.

I could hear the clockwork kerchunking inside Voroshk craniums.
Their thoughts were obvious. Tell Croaker anything. Tell Croaker
what he wanted to hear. Get off this cruel and frightful plain. Run
away. Find a place where they have not heard of the Voroshk, where
they have no major wizards of their own. Set up shop there and slap
together a whole new empire.

Just as the Shadowmasters had done before them.

"Tell them I'll come back after they've had a
day or two to think it over."

As she retreated with me Arkana told me, "If they agree to
join you they'll give you more trouble than Gromovol
did."

"Really?" I chose a tone that was supposed to let
her know I might not be as dumb as I looked. "How do you
suppose we could keep them from doing that?"

She did have some ideas. "Do what you did to us. Make them
strip naked. Take their rheitgeistiden and their shefsepoken. Make
them stay on the ground where they're vulnerable. But promise
them they'll get everything back after they show you that you
can trust them. Then you stretch it out."

"I'm going to adopt you. You'd make a
wonderful daughter. Hey, evil-minded future daughter number two.
You heard Arkana. What do you think?"

Grudgingly, Shukrat admitted, "I think she's
right."

"Excellent! Let's go ask your wicked future
mother's opinion."

We found Lady reading what Baladitya was spending his final
years recording, which was, more or less, Shivetya's
biography. "Darling, I've decided we need to adopt
these two marvellous children. They're turning out every bit
as blackhearted as we ever wanted our Booboo to be."

Lady awarded me a suspicious look, decided I was fooling around
but meant what I said. More or less. "Tell me about
it."

I said, "Go to it, girls."


Chapter 89 

Beside the Cemetery: More Confusion

Expecting the
Great General to remain offensive-minded was not enough, Sleepy
knew. She had to outguess him. This one time she could not let
Mogaba slide around her.

She took a twinned approach to planning, setting up two distinct
staffs. The first consisted of Iqbal and Runmust Singh,
Riverwalker, Sahra, Willow Swan and others who had been with her
since the Kiaulune wars. She even summoned Blade up from Jaicur
because Blade actually knew Mogaba personally and, at one time, had
been fairly close to him.

The second general staff consisted entirely of officers from
Hsien. These men knew Mogaba only as a bugaboo. And they had no
knowledge of the surrounding territory beyond what they could learn
from maps and scouting on their own.

Sleepy hoped to find something useful in the gap between
diverging visions.

She kept her cavalry busy, scouting, chasing Mogaba's
scouts, skirmishing with enemy patrols, trying to locate the bulk
of the Great General's forces.

Mogaba was doing the same. Both sides relied heavily on
questioning civilians passing through. Traffic on the Rock Road had
slackened but had not stopped entirely.

Each staff proposed several likely enemy campaigns. Sleepy had
their opposite numbers play out a counter campaign. And in the end,
after two almost sleepless days, she felt no more illuminated than
she had at the beginning.

So she chose to go with intuition. That had served her best
during previous dances with the Great General, anyway.


Chapter 90 

By the Cemetery: Still More Confusion

The Great General
told his commanders, "I'm growing concerned that all
this maneuvering helps them more than it does us. It's
obvious that they're without mystical support. But every hour
we maneuver is an hour nearer the time when they get those
advantages back."

Aridatha Singh asked, "Aren't we still at a
disadvantage in a direct confrontation?"

"Soldier for soldier, possibly. But we have three times as
many soldiers. And they're still trying to cover a line
running all the way from the Grove of Doom to this stand near their
camp. That's too much to hold with ten thousand
men."

No questions came. No suggestions arose. The Great General
seldom solicited advice. When Mogaba gathered his captains he
planned to issue instructions. Their job would be to see that those
were executed.

"I'm returning to the original plan. I'll
drive straight forward, in the middle, with the Second Territorial.
I'll engage and hold. Singh, you advance along your previous
route with your same mission. Once you're behind them form
your division in battle array and advance up the Rock Road.
If the rest of us have done our jobs you'll only have to
sweep up fugitives."

Mogaba rested a hand upon the shoulder of a young officer named
Narenda Nath Saraswati, scion of an old aristocratic family, of the
third generation of that family to serve under arms since the
opening skirmishes of the Shadowmaster wars. Two days earlier
Saraswati had been a regimental chief of staff with an aggressive
attitude. The Great General having been disappointed by the timid
performance of his remaining division, Saraswati's aggressive
nature was about to earn him a chance to shine.

Mogaba said, "Narenda, as soon as I have the enemy
engaged, I want you to take your whole force forward on a narrow
front, along the edge of this wood." That division having
been shifted to the right since the previous engagement.
"Overrun their camp. That shouldn't be difficult. They
appear to be holding it with raw recruits. Once you clear the camp,
reform and advance so as to strike the enemy left wing, rear, and
reserve. Don't begin your initial attack until I do have the
enemy solidly engaged.

"One more thing. I want you both to leave your main
standards with me. If the enemy sees those maybe they'll
think I'm concentrating everything in one place."

He paused. There were no questions. All this had been planned
out before. The necessity now was renewed vigor.

"I'll go in at midmorning. Behind scouts and
skirmishers. Make sure your men are well-provisioned. I'll
personally strangle any officer who fails to see to the welfare of
his soldiers."

The Great General's attitude was well-known, if not
universally applauded by his officers. Corruption was so deeply
ingrained in Taglian culture that even after more than a generation
of cultural collision and occasional bloody change there were still
those who failed to understand that theft from the men you
commanded was not an acceptable way to supplement your income.

Whatever their differences, the Black Company, the Protector,
the Great General, all the northerners who gained power, strained
to increase the efficiency of their regime by rooting out graft and
corruption. More than anything else, that made the outsiders
incredibly alien.

"Aridatha. Wait. I've had a thought. If things go
well it's likely Saraswati will break the enemy before you
can get into position behind them."

"I was thinking of leaving during the night and going into
hiding inside the Grove of Doom."

"Good idea. What I'm thinking, then, is, you should
come out in a long line so you can catch most of the fugitives
running southward. I'm especially interested in catching the
kind of people who go underground and five years later turn up with
a whole damned new army."

"I'll do my best."

Mogaba growled. That was a promise he hated. It sounded like an
excuse being put into place beforehand. Though Aridatha was never
the sort to excuse his own shortcomings. He was more the sort who
found good reasons why others failed.


Chapter 91 

By the Cemetery: Even More Confusion

Today's the
day," Sleepy told her Captains. "I can feel it."
She went on to excoriate Croaker, Tobo and that bunch for taking so
long. Then she began telling people what she wanted done. She
started getting arguments right away. She snapped, "Mogaba is
going to split his force again. For that he's going to pay.
If you want to argue with me I'll accept your resignations
now. There're officers who'll do what they're
told and keep their mouths shut."

A few hours later the Great General appeared almost exactly
where she expected him. He was spread out over a lot of ground and
had a lot of banners flying. For a time she feared she might have
guessed wrong and Mogaba was just going to come straight ahead and
roll right over her. But he did not attack as vigorously as he
should have if that was the case.

Sleepy did not press in her turn. Not right away. She did not
want to make it obvious that she had not concentrated her forces,
either. She engaged in skirmishing and harassing tactics but
stepped back whenever Mogaba responded in any strength. He came
forward both because he had to stay in contact and because Sleepy
was pulling back toward the second jaw of his trap. He seemed
willing to be led that way.

When the division on the far right rushed from concealment
behind a low ridge, it lost all cohesion. The troops had to cover
most of a mile. Their commander was more interested in striking
before his foes could respond than he was in presenting a pretty
picture advancing.

The men in colored armor who came out of the hidden cemetery
marched in perfect order. Some carried recently manufactured
fireball projects. They began slaughtering the rabble before most
of the Taglians were aware that Fortune had dealt them one from the
bottom of the deck. They lasted as long as they did only because
there were so many of them.


Chapter 92 

By the Cemetery: Confusion Piled Higher

They've
begun to stiffen on their right," one of Mogaba's
companions announced. "But they're falling back on the
other wing."

"There's something wrong," Mogaba declared.
"There should be more of them."

"Why don't we rush them?"

"Do sound a general advance. But at the slow
cadence."

The first confused message arrived just minutes later. Narenda
Nath Saraswati's division was on the run. Saraswati himself
was dead. Most of the division officers had been captured or
killed.

Before he could make sense of it, Mogaba heard the horns on his
right and saw the different colored blocks, every soldier with his
own banner on his back, advancing. A flurry of cavalrymen swept
stragglers, and fugitives, and foolish resistance out of the
infantry's path.

The Great General needed only a moment to understand that Sleepy
was about to kidney-punch the Second Territorial with her best.
"Full attack!" he ordered. "Fastest
cadence!" If he got the soldiers moving forward before they
recognized their peril he could use his numbers to overcome.
"The little witch finally caught me." But there was
still Aridatha, moving in behind. It remained to be seen who would
have whom in the end.

Mogaba drove straight toward the enemy camp. If he could get
inside its palisade . . . 


Chapter 93 

Beyond the Grove of Doom: Confusion Grows

Aridatha learned
of the developing disaster from Vehdna horsemen who had been forced
to flee in his direction, around the eastern end of the
battlefield, because enemy skirmishers had blocked the way north
already. Aridatha was able to intuit the truth from the complete
confusion of the reports.

He ordered his division to form for battle.

Backboned by his own City Battalions the force was well-drilled,
if not veteran. Within two hours Singh had the enemy in sight. The
invaders and their traitor native allies were involved in a huge,
bloody melee with all of the Taglian troops Mogaba had been able to
hold together or who had not been able to run away. Evidently the
invaders had not remained sufficiently concerned about
Singh's division.

Aridatha's advent was close to a complete surprise. As for
its effectiveness . . . His soldiers had no
experience dealing with the terror. And they all knew that their
brothers in the other divisions had lost their battle already and
were busily doing their dying.

The exhausted armies disentangled as the day waned. The soldiers
on both sides had endured so much horror that, gradually, they just
stopped trying to interfere with an enemy who seemed willing to go
away without causing trouble.

But who won?

On that day arguments could have been made both ways. Final
determination would be in the hands of those historians who
examined the effect the battle had on Taglian society and culture.
It could be a watershed or it could be nothing important, depending
on what followed and how the population responded.


Chapter 94 

Beside the Cemetery: Sorrows Gathering

Not even Sleepy
had the physical or mental energy left to do anything useful. She
slumped against the saddle of a dead horse, let the twilight and
exhaustion wash over her. She felt no exhilaration even though she
had broken the backbone of the last Taglian army and had, for the
first time, been the one who held the field when the fighting
ended. Mogaba, if he lived, was the one slinking away this
time.

A big contributor to her mood was the fact that this
accomplishment, such as it was, was as much Suvrin's
responsibility as her own. Suvrin, alone, had not abandoned all
thought of the third Taglian division. He had been able to move his
brigade in response, feebly, when the rest of the enemy appeared.
But for Suvrin's cool head, the Great General would be here,
holding the field, yet again. Though the numbers of dead and dying,
likely, would be much the same.

Suvrin settled beside her. He said nothing for a long time.
Neither did she. For the first time in decades she wanted to hold
someone, wanted to be held by someone. But she did not act upon
that want.

Finally, Suvrin spoke. "Willow Swan is dead. I saw his
body a while ago."

Sleepy grunted. "I have a feeling there'll be a lot
of old friends to mourn once we collect the dead. I saw Iqbal and
Riverwalker go down."

"No. Not Iqbal. Who'll take care of
Suruvhija?" Singh's wife was not all that bright.

"The Company, Suvrin. Until she chooses to leave."
And Runmust, if he had survived. It was his obligation under
Shadar religious law. "She's one of our own. We take
care of our own. Do we have anyone capable of handling picket
duty?"

Suvrin responded with an interrogatory grunt.

"That's the Great General over there. Iron Man
Mogaba. If he's still even a little bit healthy and can pull
together some kind of night attack he'll be back. Maybe even
if he has to do it all by himself."

Suvrin took several deep, thoughtful breaths. "We have
quite a few recruits who didn't do much but hide in the
cemetery. I've already shamed some of them into picking up
the battlefield."

"It won't matter if they run away as long as they
run toward us."

"Uhm."

"Willow? He never did . . . Never
found his dream."

"I always pictured him as your basic everyman. Just
drifting wherever the tides of life took him. Showing a flash
sometimes but never really getting up and grabbing the reins. He
might have been a hopeless romantic, too. According to the Annals.
He had a case on Lady once. And a case on the Protector, where he
was much more lucky but lived to regret it. He even had it for you
for a while, I think."

"We were friends. Just good friends."

Suvrin did not argue. But there was a quaver in Sleepy's
voice that made him wonder if, possibly only once or twice, there
had not been something to lend substance to rumor.

It was none of his business.

"I should've avoided this mess until Tobo and the
others got back."

Suvrin observed, "Mogaba wouldn't have let you. So
don't beat yourself up. He would've chased you hard,
trying to take advantage of the fact that they were
gone."

Sleepy knew that was true but truth did not alter her emotional
state. A lot of people were dead. Many of them had been comrades of
long standing. It was her mission to preserve them, not to waste
them. She had failed.

And the full, grim scope of the tragedy remained to be
revealed.


Chapter 95 

Fortress with No Name: Down Below

She looks so
peaceful," Lady intoned. We stood over her sister, in the
cavern of the ancients. Soulcatcher now filled the identical spot
that Lady had occupied during the Captivity.

I needed a moment to realize that she was being sarcastic,
repeating the inanities you hear at funerals. She was sure
Soulcatcher was partially aware of what was happening. And she
could not interact with her sister in any more intimate way.

I said, "We've done what we came to do. We need to
think about getting back to the Company." Though I remained
tempted to hazard a recon run through the Khatovar gate before it
healed completely.

And I had a notion to take a gander at the dark thing that had
been toying with our lives and destinies since before we ever heard
any of her names.

"Yes," Lady said. "There's no telling
what mischief Booboo and the Khadidas and Mogaba have gotten into
without Tobo and Howler there to baby-sit."

I said, "If Mogaba realizes that Sleepy's got no
wizards, he'll be all over her like a snake on
shit."

"That was colorful, if nonsensical." I noted that
she did not include herself with Tobo and Howler. Yet I suspected
strongly that she was capable of sucking Kina's power like a
queen vampire nowadays. Sometimes I wondered what that augured for
the day it came time to pay up to Shivetya. She really hated
turning into something old and dumpy and grey that looked way too
much like the mother she barely remembered.

"I just remembered a Company sergeant from before your
time. A man named Elmo. He had an unusual turn of
phrase."

"You are getting old."

"I spend my whole life living in the past, darling.
Let's saddle up." We had come down the long stair to
the cavern aboard Voroshk flying posts. What a marvellous way to
deal with stairways when you are no longer twenty years old.

Lady started to pat her sister on the shoulder, an ordinary
little action. "Don't!" I barked, with enough
urgency to cause a couple of small ice stalactites to fall
somewhere back in the depths of the cave.

"Oh. I wasn't thinking."

There were frost-encrusted old men all along the sides of the
cave. No one knew who they were. Except, possibly, Baladitya. Most
of them were still alive. They were, like Soulcatcher, exiles from
some unsympathetic power. But a few, including way too many Company
brothers from the time of the Captivity, were dead meat. And all it
had taken to kill them was a thoughtless, gentle or friendly
touch.

Lady pushed past me. I surveyed the local population. As ever,
it seemed the open eyes all stared right at me. I met
Soulcatcher's dull gaze. For no reason I understood, I
winked. We were old conspirators. We went way back. I knew her
before I knew her sister, in olden times of terror.

It may have been a trick of the light or of my imagination but
it seemed there was a flicker of response.

When we returned up top we found the others involved in the
initial stages of getting ready to leave. Howler was exulting,
loudly, to all and sundry, in his new ability to remain silent. He
seemed almost grateful. Being an old cynic myself I have strong
notions about the true value of human gratitude. It is a currency
whose worth plunges by the hour. Though thoroughly confused, the
two old Voroshk sorcerers were collecting themselves for the
journey, too. Which meant that they had surrendered to Tobo's
blandishments while Lady and I were down below. They had
surrendered their flying posts and special clothing rather than be
forced to return to their own world.

They must have gotten some really unpleasant news.

"You understand what this means?" I asked Tobo.

"Uh?" The kid was relaxing by flirting with Shukrat.
I got the impression that those two might have started sneaking off
into dark corners. They had developed that goofy way of looking at
each other. And they could not stay away from one another.

That would not instill Sahra with great joy.

"It means we have to stash Gromovol downstairs, too. Or
kill him. Which wouldn't be politic. Because there's no
way I'm going to give him the opportunity to give us any more
grief by letting him come back with us."

"I'll talk to Nashun and the First Father." He
turned to Shukrat. "Come on, honey."

Hah. Honey.

A procession of flying posts went down to the cave of the
ancients. Oh, that was so much easier than clambering down and up.
The elderly Voroshk, in borrowed rags, rode behind Tobo and
Shukrat. Gromovol rode behind Arkana. I figured she owed him one.
Her cast did not cause her any problems flying. She would be out of
that soon.

Gromovol whined and begged until he became an embarrassment to
everyone.

I could claim I had no mercy but that would not be true. Had I
been appropriately merciless, pieces of Gromovol would have gotten
distributed over half a world after I made a few cutting remarks
about his character and bad behavior.

I felt like one of the Voroshk now. I looked like one of the
Voroshk. So did my beloved. The deal with the old men compelled
them to refit their wondrous black costumes for us.

Those would make marvellous complements to our Widowmaker and
Lifetaker armor.

Tobo and Shukrat, too, boasted the black and undefined look,
Tobo having helped himself to Gromovol's outfit.

It took only minutes to inter Gromovol, not far from the frozen
corpses of several men who had been my friends. His final pleas
still echoed when I told Lady, "I'm going down to the
bottom of this hole. I want a look at that old bitch who's
been fucking up our lives for the last fifty years."

"Are you crazy?" Tobo yelled. "I
wouldn't go down there. I'm nervous just being this
close."

"Then go back upstairs. Shukrat. Answer a couple of
technical questions for me before you leave. Please?"

The black barrier that had frustrated Blade so was back in
place. It put a terrible pressure on my mind. But the flying post
did not notice it at all. The post kept moving. The Voroshk costume
I wore stirred slightly, enclosing me more securely within its
protection.

Although I know the names now I refuse to call post and costume
by their proper, clunkily cumbersome Voroshk titles.

I passed through the barrier. Lady made a funny little sound as
she came through behind me, like she did when we made love.

The scene was pretty much the way it had been described by
others. What seemed to be a vast, open cavern without evident
bounds, illuminated by no evident light source, and that extremely
feeble. All that could be seen was a huge, ugly sprawl of flesh the
color of polished eggplant. It did not move, even to breathe.

Kina looked like Shivetya's homely big sister. Kina looked
like the embodiment of all the dark attributes I had heard assigned
her, under all her many names, since first I became aware of her
existence. Kina looked like many dark things.

My memories of the next few minutes are completely
unreliable.

Almost immediately the great hairless head turned our way.
Kina's mouth was open, exposing ugly dark fangs. She seemed
to have a snake or lizard tongue. I did not recall that having been
reported before in any of the conflicting myths, though her tongue
was supposed to be long, the better to lap up demon blood.

The eyes of the Goddess began to open.

The immensity of her will smashed at me like a tidal wave
breaking. The lights went out. For me.

"Looks like you were lucky this time," Tobo told me.
"Your post got you out of there."

I wanted to tell him luck had nothing to do with it. I planned
it that way. I set it up with the help of his girlfriend. But I
barely had energy enough to keep breathing.

I did manage to gasp, "Lady?" Had to check on my
honey.

"Better off than you are. Sleeping right now. Said to tell
you to just rest. Here's some Shivetya manna. It'll
give you a kick in the ass. If you can keep it down."

I managed to roll my head until I could see the demon.

Shivetya was looking back at me. A white crow was strutting
around on his shoulder. Not my white raven. The demon revealed a
few teeth in what he might have thought was a smile. Bizarre. I did
not recall him ever having moved before.

He must have seen the inside of my head. Must know I thought I
had a notion about how to get to Kina.

I hoped the Goddess could not look inside my head, too.

Someday. Down the road. If I could get all the pieces to fall
into place.

The white crow sneered. I believe they can do that, those
birds.

Tobo understood that something was happening but did not catch
on. I think my new daughters understood better than he did.


Chapter 96 

The Shadowgate: Bad News, Bad News

I was outside the
shadowgate gossiping with Panda Man and Spook, who were telling me
that keeping an eye on the gate was the best duty they had ever
endured. The work was easy and the locals were friendly. If the
damned ugly spooks from the plain did not keep nagging
you . . . 

Tobo and Shukrat came through.

Almost immediately Tobo let out a cry of despair. He shouted,
"There's been a battle!" A moment later he shot
into the air, headed north, black cloth streaming behind him. An
instant later still Shukrat shot off in his wake, gaining
slowly.

Panting, Lady asked, "Does that mean we should be
worried?"

"That would be my guess. The little shit must've
gotten something from the hidden folk."

"And it was bad enough to set him off like that."
She looked as troubled as I felt.

No good could come of any battle fought while we were away.

She asked, "Aren't you going to rush off and see
what happened, too?"

"Don't see the point." I jerked a thumb in the
direction of the carpet, which was creaking and sagging under the
weight of people we dared not trust. "There isn't
anything I could do, anyway. Look at that." A ripple, a
distortion in the fabric of reality, seemed to be running over the
face of the earth, chasing after Tobo and Shukrat. "The
hidden folk following their hero."

"Why were they here?"

"Waiting around for Tobo."

"But they should've been with Sleepy. They
don't do us any good hanging around the shadowgate
when . . . oh. They don't care if they do
us any good."

"Exactly. What they care about is Tobo. Anything they do
that benefits the rest of us they do just to please him. Which is
why two-thirds of the time I don't have the two ravens
that're supposed to be my permanent shoulder-ornaments and
messengers and far-seeing eyes. They keep forgetting to stick with
me. They wander off to find the kid. Bet you they turn up before we
catch up with Sleepy, though."

"Sounds like a sucker bet to me."

After crossing the Dandha Presh I steered a course mimicking
that Sleepy had followed heading north. When Lady asked why I was
not heading straight north as fast as we dared push the carpet, I
told her, "Because I thought I saw something I
shouldn't have on the way down. I have to check on it.
I'm hoping it was my imagination." But my brief
conversation with the guards at the shadowgate suggested that the
nightmare might be real.

She was curious but did not ask. At the speeds we could make
airborne a bit of circuitous flight would not delay us much.

I found what I was seeking on the path Sleepy had taken from
Gharhawnes, at almost exactly the point where she had doubled back
to get behind Dejagore. By then my confederates were extremely
crabby.

"There!" I told Lady, catching just a glimpse of
something moving fast inside a stand of scrubby oaks.

"There what?" She had not seen.

"The Nef."

"The Nef? The Nef are in the Voroshk world. Trapped
there."

"Not according to Spook and Panda Man. They say the Nef
come around every night."

"All right. But how would they get through the
shadowgate?"

"I don't know." I was flying in a circle now,
giving up altitude. Once down to treetop level I cruised back and
forth. I spotted nothing. Nor did I find a sign when I descended
lower still and began to glide between the tree trunks.

I never found a thing. Not even a hint of a thing.

People began to yell down at me.

All right. They had a point. There were things we needed to do
way north of where we were now.


Chapter 97 

Beside the Cemetery: Among the Dead

It had been over
for more than a day but the surgeons remained hard at work. Men
still lay in long rows awaiting attention, moaning, screaming, some
delirious. And some dead. A burial detail walked the rows, picking
up those who had gone. Too many of those had died alone amidst the
hundreds, without comfort.

The glory of war.

The ultimate fear. Mine, anyway.

I checked quickly to make sure that everyone was conforming to
my decrees concerning cleanliness and sepsis. A few of the wounded
would stand a better chance if the surgeons and their helpers
cleaved to the rules. Even when they were exhausted, as they were
now, and the temptation to cut corners became overwhelming.

Beyond our wounded lay those from Mogaba's army. They were
likely to get no treatment at all, except what they could manage
for themselves. I was sure that our medical supplies were as
strained as our medical staff was. It looked like this was a much
bigger fight than I had expected. Or, at least, a more desperate
encounter with more casualties than expected in a short time.

Runmust Singh on crutches took me in to see Sleepy.

She appeared disoriented. I knew that look of old, having been
there myself. She was on the edge of collapse. She had not done
more than catnap since the fighting started. "You can't
do it all yourself, Captain. You'll be a lot more effective
if you just trust the rest of us to get things done and get
yourself some rest. If Mogaba comes back now you won't be
able to think fast enough or straight enough to do anybody any
good."

She eyed me irritably but was too exhausted to squabble.
"I take it you didn't come here past the
dead."

"I came through the hospital area." She knew that I
would have to do that. After we talked I would, probably, go back
to offer what little help an old man with a bum hand and a bad eye
could.

"Then you don't yet know that there isn't
anybody left for me to trust while I take a nap. Swan is dead,
Croaker. Blade is dead. Iqbal Singh is dead. Riverwalker is dead.
Add Pham Huu Clee, Li Wan, both the Chun brothers and your old
engineers, Cletus and Loftus. There's going to be a lot of
opportunity for advancement. Name a name. Almost everybody is dead
or injured. Hell, even Sahra may be dead. We haven't been
able to find her."

"We're back," I said. That ought to take a
load off her shoulders. "Successfully, I might add. What
about Suvrin?"

"Suvrin made it through. Suvrin saved the day. Suvrin and
I have agreed to take turns resting as soon as we're sure
Mogaba isn't coming back. Right now we're taking turns
holding everything together."

Based on what I had seen and heard already the Great General
would not return any time soon--unless he came on his own. His
soldiers had had enough.

Mogaba would have been back already had he had any troops he
could use. Caution and procrastination were not sins you could pin
on the Great General.

I heard Tobo's voice outside, overhead. He was addressing
the folk of the hidden realm. Before long we would know all we
wanted to know about Mogaba's current situation. In moments
thousands of wraithlike things would be involved in the search for
Sahra--and everyone else still missing.

The kid was taking charge.

Sleepy mumbled, "I shouldn't have engaged him till
Tobo came back."

Unwittingly, I repeated comments she had heard from Suvrin
already. "Mogaba wouldn't have given you a choice. He
doesn't have our intelligence resources but he does make use
of the tools he has. That was our failing. Not remembering that. We
should've given at least the appearance of having left a
sorcerer in camp."

Sleepy nodded. "Water down the creek. Which I'll
thank you to remind me whenever I begin to feel sorry for myself
and start picking the thing's bones to indict myself for
doing things differently."

"You're a strange bird, little girl."

"What?"

"Sorry. One-Eye's been on my mind lately." I
did not explain. As long as I kept my genius sealed up inside my
head there was a fair chance Kina would not find out anything she
would make me regret. I asked. "What about Goblin and the
girl? If there was fighting in the
grove . . . "

"We don't know yet. I assume Tobo will inform us. I
assume everything is going to be just peachy now that Tobo is
back." She was striving for sarcasm but it was not working.
She did not have strength enough to speak in anything but a
monotone.

"Lady and Murgen will be here in a few minutes. Let them
manage the little shit while you get your rest."


I went for an excursion amongst the unburied dead, to make
goodbyes. They were laid out in rows, awaiting disposal. The
weather was cold and damp so putrefaction was not far advanced but
there was stench enough of blood and open bowels. Flies were rare,
it being the wrong season. And crows of any sort were a rarity
these days. Buzzards circled but dared not come down because the
welcome they received from the living tended to be
discouraging.

Once someone identified one of the fallen, Taglian prisoners
moved the body to the appropriate funeral procedure group. Recruits
and additional prisoners were busy building ghats, burning corpses,
digging graves and filling them, or erecting exposure platforms for
the few whose fate it was to leave the earth that way.

A lot of corpses had been dealt with already but I could see
that, despite the season, we were going to have to dig mass graves
for the Taglian fallen. There would not be time to get each man a
decent funeral. Although civilians who had had men serving with
Mogaba had begun to show up already, hoping to reclaim their
dead.

I wondered if, in some mystical fashion, new standing stones
were materializing on the glittering plain, their faces crawling
with golden memorial characters.

A subaltern from the Land of Unknown Shadows approached me. It
was obvious he was not pleased about having been assigned to the
funeral detail. He must have embarrassed himself during the
fighting. The unpleasant duty would be his reward.
"Sir," he said, with a salute so crisp it should have
gotten his sentence commuted, "it would be a great help if
you could offer me the funerary preferences of your old
comrades." There was a mildly repulsive fawning edge to his
otherwise businesslike demeanor.

He led me to a spot where he had isolated non-Taglians who did
not hail from Hsien. My former henchmen and a couple of Nyueng Bao
occupied that little square.

"Soldiers live," I murmured. Now there was only
Murgen and Lady left from the farther shore of the Sea of Torments.
"Bury Swan and the engineer brothers. Inside that cemetery
over there. Make sure that their graves are clearly marked.
I'll want to find them later in order to put up a proper
memorial. They deserve more than a parting mention in the
Annals." I wondered what Swan would think of lying to rest
beside all those Shadowlanders. He and Blade and Cordy Mather had
helped put most of them there.

I had no idea what funeral customs obtained amongst
Blade's people. Neither I nor anyone else ever learned who
those people actually were. "Lay the black man down in a
grave near Swan. Maybe they can be buddies in the next world, too.
Maybe they'll finally get to start that brewery they always
wanted."

The subaltern was puzzled by that but did not comment. The
soldiers of the Land of Unknown Shadows were growing accustomed to
the religious absurdities of the new world. I walked on, across
ground covered by the corpses of men Sleepy had recruited during
the time of Captivity. Their number was disturbing. Before long she
would be as isolated from her own generation as I was isolated from
mine.

A great many excellent soldiers from the Land of Unknown Shadows
lay upon that cold, hard ground, too. And, unsurprisingly, so did
many men who had joined us recently, locally. Poorest trained, they
had stood the least chance during the fighting.

I surveyed all that death and hoped Sleepy had reached a
watershed here, that henceforth she would seek solutions that did
not require headbutting until somebody staggered away and collapsed
from concussion. Not that all this could be blamed on her. Based on
information available I could fault none of her decisions. And she
was a better tactician than I had been.



Chapter 98 

Above the Cemetery: Mogaba Accedes

Twenty-six hours after his order to break contact Mogaba
abandoned all hope of pulling together an attack that would take
advantage of the enemy's despair and disarray. His own men
had been too badly mauled to set aside their own despair and
disarray. Only Aridatha Singh's division retained its
cohesion. Its reward was the task of screening the retreating
army.

Which consisted mainly of survivors of the Second Territorial.
Of Saraswati's former right wing force not one man in ten
could be accounted for anymore.

Enemy cavalry remained very active. The Captain seemed
disinclined to let him get near her again.

A pair of billowing black shapes passed low overhead. They
radiated a chilling psychic scream. Suddenly, instinctually,
Mogaba knew that he was being watched by something he could not
turn fast enough to catch staring. He knew that his best
opportunity had ended. He summoned his latest aide-de-camp, who had
been in place only a few hours. The man's several
predecessors were still down there on the field. "Bring me
the Deceiver prisoners."

"Sir?"

"The prisoners General Singh captured in the Grove of
Doom. I want to see them." He thought he could offer them a
deal. The girl could pretend to be the Protector for a while.
Taglios would be less restive if the Protector appeared publicly
sometime soon.

"Those prisoners were sent north, sir. Under special
constraint because of the danger General Singh told us they
present."

"And he was right. That was the best thing to do. We
don't
want them to fall into unfriendly hands." Publicly, Mogaba
insisted on treating the recent encounter as a triumph. He expected
his officers to do the same.

Mogaba spent a moment considering what options he might have. It
took only a minute to conclude that withdrawal toward Taglios was
the best course.

Oh, but he hated that. No matter the true facts, rumor would
call it a defeat and a retreat. That would cost.

The Great General considered his aide. He did not know the man
well enough to be aware of his family status. "Ton-jon, is
it?"

"Than Jahn, sir. A remote male ancestor is reputed to have
been Nyueng Bao. My family is Vehdna."

"Excellent. Perhaps you can share religious anecdotes with
the enemy Captain."

"Sir?" Sounding both baffled and irked.

"I'm sending you south under a flag of truce. To
arrange for an armistice. So we can collect our dead." If
anything the Great General ever did won him favor with the Taglian
people, it was his effort to bring back the fallen sons so their
families could honor them with all the appropriate last rites.

This time would be a bitch. There was no way he was going to
recover all the Taglian dead. "Find me some priests. Every
kind we have." He needed advice about what to do with so many
bodies, this close to home.

The Company, Mogaba was sure, would just fling their share of
Taglian corpses into one big ugly hole, cover them over and forget
about them.


Chapter 99 

By the Military Cemetery: Missing Persons

Tobo was
distraught. Murgen was distracted. He walked around bumping into
things, trapped inside his own interior world. I had not seen him
so lost since his Annalist days.

No trace of Sahra had surfaced, even with the Unknown Shadows
hunting. So far Tobo had determined only that she had not fallen
into enemy hands. The Taglians were not looking. They were unaware,
even, that they ought to bear the woman a grudge.

Sahra always had had a knack for going unnoticed.

"She's dead," Lady told me. "She was
hurt, she crawled in somewhere to hide, and she died there."
Which was plausible enough. Several bodies had been discovered in
circumstances that fit the scenario. And Sahra was not alone in
being missing. Every company in the force was unable to account for
someone. Most, probably, had run away or were prisoners of war. But
the hidden folk kept finding others dead in places where no one had
yet thought to look.

I hoped Lady's simple explanation was the correct one. I
dreaded the chance that Sahra had been captured by somebody who
would use her to manipulate Tobo.

The up side was that there was a paucity of villains who might
be interested. Mogaba was exonerated. Soulcatcher was buried.
Booboo and the Khadidas were entombed in the big fortress guarding
the southern approaches to Taglios, behind a door that could not be
opened by any key still within the stronghold. Others who might
have tried something sly--say the Howler or the Voroshk--had perfect
alibis.

So it came down to Sahra being dead and lost or lost and
wandering around in a shock so profound that she
could not recall who she was or where she belonged.

Sleepy posted a huge reward for "the capture of an older
Nyueng Bao woman wanted for questioning in regard to espionage
against agents of the Prahbrindrah Drah." Murgen provided a
description that included the shapes and locations of moles and a
birthmark unfamiliar to anyone else.

"It doesn't make much sense, does it?" my
darling whispered to me. "People go at the oddest times and
from the oddest causes."

"Soldiers live," I murmured.

"You're turning that into a mantra."

"You feel guilty. You wonder why him and not me, then
you're glad it was him and not you, then you feel guilty.
Soldiers live. And wonder why."

"One soldier lives because the gods know that I still
haven't gotten my fair share of loving. Put that pen away and
come on over here."

"You've sure turned into a pushy broad in your old
age."

"Yeah? You should've seen me four hundred years
ago."

Tobo announced, "Mogaba's had the Khadidas and the
Daughter of Night moved to the palace. In a remarkable coincidence
the Protector was seen publicly for the first time in months only a
few hours later. She was extremely angry with the Taglians and
brought one of her punishments down on their heads." He
grinned. "Most likely that had something to do with all the
graffiti that's begun appearing. All the good old stuff.
`Water sleeps.' `My brother unforgiven.'
And even some that aren't my doing. `You shall lie in
the ashes ten thousand years, eating only wind.' I love that
one."

That one caught my attention. I had heard it before, somewhere.
But I had heard them all before.

"Rajadharma is everywhere. Anyone who can write seems to
put that one up. Then there's `Madhuprlya' which means
`A Friend of the Wine' and is a popular nickname for
Ghopal
Singh. Seems the lord of the Greys has a taste for the grape.
The one I don't get, and which seems to trouble the Greys
more than `Madhupriya,' is, `Thi Kim is
coming.' It doesn't make sense. Everybody assumes
Nyueng Bao are involved because Thi Kim is translatable only from
Nyueng Bao. As `death walk.' Except that here
it's written as a proper name."

I said, "If it's used as a name or title it would
more properly come through as `Deathwalker' or
`Death Walking.' Not so? In olden times a Deathwalker
was a suspected plague carrier."

"Goblin," Lady said. "It's Deceivers
announcing the coming of the Khadidas. A dead man still walking
around. By the grace or curse of Kina. And a plague carrier, too,
if you count the religious side."

"Maybe." Tobo did not seem convinced. I did not
blame him. I had a feeling it was something more sinister myself.
Based on nothing whatsoever, because Lady's suggestion ought
to be true.

I nodded in the general direction of where Sleepy should be.
"She said anything about what she's
planning?"

"Not unless you count her complaining about the
headbutting she's been doing with our friends from the Land
of Unknown Shadows. Every brigade commander is whining about
needing replacements. But none of them want local recruits--because
of the language problem more than because of their lack of
equipment and training--but none of them wants to see their own
brigade disbanded so its soldiers can fill open slots
elsewhere."

But there was no choice and everyone recognized that fact. The
best answer was simple enough. And Sleepy found it without
consulting me.

Instead of disbanding the hardest hit units she took the one
least distressed and distributed its people amongst the others,
keeping whole groups together. Being with people you know and trust
is critical to a soldier. She made sure the officers got better
jobs whenever possible. The displaced brigade commander became her
chief of staff, with the assurance that he would be given command
of all the native troops we raised, however numerous they might
become.

Maximum result with least distress to oversized egos. Only a few
men ended up completely disappointed.

Life has turned into a preoccupation with administrative
detail.

Is that what happens when you get old? You worry more about
people and their interaction than you do about drama and the
violence and the wicked deeds those people do?

That is us. The Black Company. Wicked deeds done dirt cheap. But
by damn! You had better pony up when payment is due. Otherwise, if
we must, we will come back from the grave itself to make sure our
accounts are properly balanced.

I said some of that aloud one afternoon. Tobo told me,
"You're mad, old man."

"As a hatter." A reflection. "Speaking of
which. You know whatever happened to One-Eye's old
hat?" I was going to need that disgusting flea farm one day
soon. Desperately. One-Eye had told me I would but I had not
listened closely enough. I had listened and understood that
One-Eye's wondrous spear would have to be employed in ways
that the little wizard had defined well back into his healthier
days. But that hat had been such a commonplace, and so foul, that
it had not clung to its place in my mind.

"It may be in my junk wagon," Tobo told me.
"If it's not there it'll be with mom's
stuff." He winced. Sahra remained missing. "We took
everything of his and Nana Gota's when we left
Hsien."

"I need to find it. Fairly soon."

Tobo wondered why but did not ask. What a good boy. He did say,
"If I was you I'd think about getting my stuff
together, ready to move." For this Annalist all the junk and
paper and pens and ink and notes and whatnot can build into piles
that threaten to swamp. "Sleepy would rather stay here and
spend some treasure refitting and recruiting and training and
getting stronger but I convinced her that won't work. Things
aren't going to slow down anywhere else. Right now we have
more sorcery available than ever before in the Company's
history."

"I've said so myself." More than once, in
jeremiads about counting too much on powers and skills not part of
the traditional Company arsenal.

"Yes, you did. But you didn't say anything about it
fading away."

"Sure I did."

"You want it to go away. And it will. Because these
aren't the kind of people who're likely to be content
to do what we've got them doing. So we ought to use them up
while we can."

"Meaning?"

"We need to go after Taglios while we have the power to
hit it hard."

Was he starting to sound just the slightest bit bigheaded? Like
he might know better than the Captain what we ought to do? Was it
going to be squabble on with Sleepy now that his mother was no
longer around?

Might better keep an eye on our baby boy. He was overdue to
outgrow all that.

I said, "You could be right."


Chapter 100 

Taglios: The Palace

Ghopal
Singh's report was not reassuring. "The graffiti is
everywhere but we just can't catch anybody doing it.
It's much worse than it was five years ago. Nowadays, with a
lot of people on our side, you'd think we'd be able to
come up with a clue. All we get is nonsense about ghosts and demons
and things you can see only if you're not looking for
them."

Mogaba steepled long fingers under his chin.
"The thing is, Ghopal, I've seen both demons and ghosts
with my own eyes. When I had just become part of the Black Company
one of the Company wizards had a pet demon. It later turned out to
be our enemy, but that doesn't matter. It was a demon. And
during the siege of Dejagore ghosts often came and went. We all saw
them, though hardly anyone ever talked about them.

"Most people blamed Nyueng Bao conjurers."

Aridatha Singh observed, "The reality of demons and ghosts
doesn't affect the situation. Whether spooks or clever
agitators are writing these messages, the messages are there. And
enough people can read that the whole population knows what's
being written."

"What would you do about it?" Mogaba asked.

"Keep watching for vandals but ignore it otherwise. If the
people believe we're indifferent to the criticism they
won't take it seriously either."

"A notion I hoped to put forward myself," Ghopal
said. "Because people in the street have no more idea than we
do who's putting that stuff up. Which makes them just as
nervous as it makes us."

Mogaba grimaced, "Approved, then. With this caveat. Some
of those slogans don't fit the traditional mold. `Thi
Kim is coming.' We still don't know what that
means."

"The Walking Death is coming," Ghopal said.
"You have to think that means the Daughter of Night's
companion."

"You think it's Deceiver work, then?"

"That's my guess."

"But Thi Kim is Nyueng Bao. I've never heard of any
Nyueng Bao Deceivers."

Ghopal grunted. That had gotten past him.

Aridatha made a joke of it. "We'll know him when he
gets here. People will start dying."

"Ha, and one more out of charity, ha," Mogaba
replied. "In the meantime, we need to make a decision about
our guests. We'll have a lot of trouble keeping them under
control.
Especially the wizard. Goblin. Who insists on being addressed as
the Khadidas. He did help cow the mob when we had the girl pretend
she was the Protector. But he has no interest in our cause.
He'll devour us the instant he stops seeing us as valuable to
his cause. Which is bringing on the end of the world."

Neither of the Singhs responded. Each understood that there was
more to the Great General's words than he was actually
saying. That something particularly delicate would come up had been
evident from the moment it had become clear that no one else would
participate in the meeting.

"I'm thinking we should get rid of him. Right now.
Before he gets too comfortable and sure of himself."

"And the Daughter of Night?" Aridatha asked.

"She's not much threat on her own." Meaning
the Daughter of Night could be spared. If that was what Aridatha
wanted. "Though my guess is, she's too set in her ways
to be redeemed."

Aridatha's coloring was pale enough to betray his
embarrassment. "That isn't what I had in
mind."

Ghopal came to his rescue. Inadvertently, having failed to catch
the unspoken. "How do we get close enough to do anything?
She'll make us love her so much we'll want to chop off
our own toes."

"There must be ways around that."

"I'd be happy to hear suggestions."

"Well, it's obvious she can't do it all the
time, whenever she wants, or Aridatha couldn't have caught
her."

"Unless she wanted to be caught."

Mogaba feared there might be something to that suggestion.
"And that power doesn't work on weapons. Or
poisons."

"Sorcery might be a possibility," Ghopal suggested.
"You think anyone knows either of their true
names?"

Mogaba shook his head. "I don't think even our
enemies could do much there. The girl hasn't had any name but
the
Daughter of Night. The Goblin thing is two creatures in one,
with the Kina side ruling. The man who knew the Goblin side's
secrets is dead. So we can focus on treachery and poison right
away."

"I don't want to harp," Aridatha said,
"but I do have to remind everybody that the girl's
parents aren't that far away. And right now our prospects
don't look that great."

Mogaba suspected that to be a subtle invitation to discuss his
plans. He did not accept.

He did not accept because these days he no longer had any grand
plan. He believed his days were numbered, as some of the graffiti
insisted. "A<span class="smallcaps" >ll their days are numbered." But the things
that made him Mogaba, positive and negative, compelled him to
struggle on.


Chapter 101 

Beside the Cemetery: Plans

Lady had been
preoccupied since our visit to Shivetya's fortress. More than
usual. A couple of times I walked in on her while she was
practicing her sorcery. I did not ask. The answer was plain. Her
ability to steal Kina's power had returned full strength just
when the Khadidas had come forward to take control of Goblin.

Lady had herself locked down, under rigid control. Being someone
who has crawled all over her for years, I knew she was battling
hope.

She was addicted to the power.

She had given it up, not entirely of her own volition, to
prevent that old horror, her first husband, the Dominator, from
resurrecting himself. Then she had gone away with me, knowing there
was no way she could survive, powerless, in the world she had
created. But she remembered being the Lady. And as years fled by
she missed that more and more. And, I think, she missed that most
when misfortune led her to a close encounter with a mirror.

A personable Dejagoran youngster we knew as Mihlos Sedona made
the rounds, summoning the insiders to join Tobo and the Captain.
The kid was only about sixteen but had charmed himself into a job
as Sleepy's personal gopher. A smile and a winning
personality is worth more than genius and sour most any day.

I thought well of Sedona myself. He had remembered to invite me
to the party.

The camp was in turmoil. Sleepy had ordered preparations for
movement toward Taglios. Those with the necessary expertise were
producing parts for artillery pieces or siege engines to be
assembled once we reached the fighting zone. Those without
expertise were doing the donkey work. I wondered why Sleepy was
having the work done when we did not yet know if we would need the
equipment. I expect she just wanted everyone kept busy.

Can a bird sneer or smirk? The white crow observed from the arm
of an incomplete, mobile stone-thrower. In my eye it seemed to do
both. "Long flight for you, eh? You just get in?"

The bird jumped but did not fly away.

"Be good," I told it. "I know who you are and
I know where you live."

Crow laughter, a little strained. Soldiers who remembered when
crows were plentiful and dangerous paused to stare.

The crow winged it toward the cemetery.

I grumbled, "I do believe our old pal Shivetya is hedging
his bets."

The day was chilly but the sky was clear. The Captain seemed to
think a meeting out in the fresh air would be good for everybody. I
slipped around behind her headquarters tent.

Tobo spoke first. "The Great General and his henchmen plan
to keep fighting, despite our advantages. Both Generals Singh think
it would be better to recognize the Prahbrindrah Drah and save
Taglios the damage from heavy fighting. But loyalty is a matter of
pride and honor for them, too. And the Great General isn't
the Protector. They consider him their friend. As long as
he's still standing I'm afraid they're going to
stick with him."

No surprise there. Not to mention that Ghopal Singh did not have
much choice. As director of the Greys he had no friends outside the
present establishment. He had committed himself to the
Protectorate, not to Taglios.

Aridatha, on the other hand, and despite his participation in
the recent fighting, could be considered apolitical and committed
to Taglios. The job he had done was the same job that would have
been demanded of him by anyone who happened to be in power.

That was the consensus. Maybe we were just making excuses.
Everybody who met Aridatha liked the guy and wished him good
fortune.

"Enough of that," Sleepy snapped. "The
man's a paragon. The sort we all want our daughters to marry.
Fine. Tobo, get on with it."

"Last night the generals decided to destroy the Khadidas.
He and the Daughter of Night can't read minds but they did
sense trouble. They broke out of their cells. Which means one of
them has more power than they've been showing. They're
hiding somewhere in the abandoned part of the Palace. The Greys and
the Palace Guard haven't found them yet. The Khadidas did
something that distorted reality around them. Even the hidden folk
lost them. They haven't been able to find them again. Not
long after their disappearance somebody raided the kitchen. They
stole a lot of food. Then somebody broke into the offices of the
Inspector General of the Records and stole a shitload of paper and
ink."

Murgen blurted, "They're going to reconstruct the
Books of the Dead!" This was the first real emotion he had
shown since Sahra's disappearance.

"Evidently," Sleepy said. "Not something they
can accomplish quickly but something they'll manage
eventually. If we don't interfere. And we are going to
interfere. Tonight the whole bunch of you are going to fly to
Taglios. You're going to pull the same stunt you did in
Jaicur. Using all the power you have available. I want you to
capture Ghopal Singh and the Great General. Capture the girl and
Goblin. Put Aridatha Singh in charge. Then hunker down. I'll
start the army moving tomorrow. As soon as we're past the
city gate I'll send for the Prahbrindrah Drah."

I tried to exchange glances with everyone, anyone around me.
Nobody seemed interested. They all seemed embarrassed. Or
something. Like maybe they thought Sleepy had turned simpleminded
but it was up to somebody else to point that out to her.

I would bet you saw a lot of that around Mogaba. And a whole lot
more around Soulcatcher before her forced retirement.

"It shall be done," Sleepy's proud new chief
of staff intoned. Though he spoke Taglian that formula hailed from
the Land of Unknown Shadows.

I miss One-Eye. One-Eye--or Goblin in his time--would have given
that officious little asshole a mystic hotfoot. On the spot. Or
maybe a case of fleas. The size of tumblebugs.

Those were the days. Except that those guys had not always
gotten it right. They had screwed up and gotten me a few times,
too.

There was a brief debate about whether or not to include the
older Voroshk in the raid. The implication being that Tobo might
not have what it took to keep an eye on so many people of dubious
loyalty. Arkana appeared to have become one of us, but we did not
yet know that. Arkana was the one who had advised Magadan to do
whatever it took . . . Our hold on the Howler
was weaker now, too. The little sorcerer had become almost
invisible since he no longer announced himself every few minutes.
The senior Voroshk, of course, were trustworthy only until they
figured out a way to mess us over. If that long. They did not seem
much smarter than Gromovol had been.

I said only, "Don't get overconfident because
everything's gone our way so far." Not only Sleepy but
most of the others turned studiedly blank faces my way.
"There're plenty of chances to stumble still ahead of
us."

No doubt I would get an argument but I thought our path had run
fairly straight and smooth lately. We might be just hours from our
final accounting with the traitor Mogaba and only minutes longer
from collecting Booboo and extinguishing the hope of the Deceivers.
Events had had a ponderous inevitability almost since our first
scares in the Land of Unknown Shadows.

"What?" But the question had been directed at Tobo,
not me, by a startled Sleepy.

"We can't leave till after midnight. Lady is going
to walk me through a raising of the dead. So we can find out what
happened to Mom."

Sleepy wanted to argue but instantly understood that this was a
battle she could not win. Tobo would do this thing Tobo's
way, with Murgen's blessing. And it was not good to squabble
in front of the troops.

"Don't take all night."


Chapter 102 

The Palace: Better Housekeeping

The Great General
picked up a snail shell, considered it. "More of these things
around here all the time. But nobody ever sees a live
one."

Ghopal said, "I'd bear down on my household staff if
this was my place."

A distant crash echoed through the hallways. Greys and Guards
had begun demolishing walls at random, to make it more difficult
for the Deceivers to hide. And in areas they felt confident were
clear they had masons sealing doorways and walling off entire
hallways. Additionally, several self-anointed psychics and ghost
hunters had joined the hunt.

Mogaba said, "You're probably right." He
gestured to one of several young men who had been trailing them.
That fellow snapped a slight bow and disappeared. Before long every
domestic in the palace was involved in a massive housekeeping
campaign. Mogaba observed, "We can't have this place
looking a mess when our enemies get here."

A messenger huffed and puffed into the presence. The search had
stumbled onto some corpses. From long ago. Three men wearing
nothing but loincloths. They appeared to have gotten lost in the
maze of the Palace, but had perished of wounds suffered earlier.
The searchers were troubled because the corpses had not suffered
much from vermin or normal putrefaction.

"Don't do anything with them," Mogaba said.
"Don't even touch them. Just seal them up where they
are." He told Ghopal, "Those would be some of the
Deceivers who tried to assassinate the Liberator and the Radisha
when you were still wearing diapers." He sighed. "No
matter what we do to hurry this it's going to take an
age."

"They do have to eat."

"Eventually, yes. We'll guard the kitchens at all
times." And, he said aloud to no one, because these days it
was more secure to communicate by passing notes, any food easily
reached during quiet hours would be poisoned.

"Keep at it here, Ghopal. Day and night. Use as many
people as we can spare." The Great General expected his
enemies to come for him and he was making preparations to welcome
them.

Mogaba withdrew to his own quarters. There he invested an hour
in one of his hobbies before he moved on to the Protector's
quarters to nap. He used her apartment now because no one ever went
there. No one but the Great General dared. No one but the Great
General could pass through the warding spells the Protector had
left in place.

It had become his sanctuary.

Mogaba's scouts and spies had reported that Croaker and
all his mob had rejoined the Company, back from wherever they had
gone, with even more tools of deviltry.

The crisis could come any time now.


Chapter 103 

Beside the Cemetery: Search for a Lost
Soul

I had been in the
neighborhood of necromantic activities before, and other high-order
divining, but never any closer than I got that night. I do not plan
to get that close again. If my honey wants somebody handy to save
her sweet butt when she gets in trouble, I will tie a long rope to
her ankle and attach the other end to a horse. If something goes
sour I will swat the horse's butt.

This seance did not go
well. And before it was over I got a much uglier vision of that
place of bones that had claimed so many of the dreams of Murgen and
my beloved.

The smell was bad but the cold was worse. I have never felt such
cold. I roasted myself beside a bonfire for hours after the
summoning was over but mortal flames did little to defeat that
bitter chill. It was so bad we did not undertake the
Captain's raid that night or even the next and when we did we
went only because Her Highness began wondering publicly if us
slackers were waiting for summer weather.

Murgen, Sleepy and I were present at the summoning. No one else
was invited, not even Shukrat or Suvrin or any of Sahra's
friends. And it started going bad right away. Right after starting
Lady raised a hand to massage her right temple. Soon afterward I
began to catch fleeting, random impressions of things that were not
there. The cold came first, then the smell. Before I saw anything
there were several moments when my balance became very iffy.

Lady grew more and more excited as things continued to refuse to
go the way she wanted. She started over twice. And when she finally
did storm ahead she did not get where she wanted to go. Eventually
she gave up. But not before the rest of us had gotten a good strong
whiff of Kina's charnel dreams.

"I'm sorry," Lady told Tobo. "Kina keeps
trying to get at me through our connection. The more power I siphon
from her the more easily she can touch me."

Not good. We could have Lady turn kickass powerful--and be in
thrall to the Goddess when she did.

She seemed to read my mind. She gave me a dirty look. "The
bitch isn't going to get a hold on me."

I considered reminding her of whom we were speaking. The Mother
of Deceit. Kina did not need control where she could manipulate.
And she could manipulate whole populations. In her sleep. Instead,
I asked, "Did we find out anything about Sahra?"

Lady's temper was not improving. "Certainly not what
we would've if that old devil-sow hadn't decided to
wreck our game." Her mind had been affected somehow. She
seemed almost drunk. "We couldn't raise Sahra.
Couldn't even touch her. Which leaves the matter's
resolution ambiguous." Her speech continued slurred, she was
aware of it, yet she persisted in trying to use difficult words.
"I think she's dead. If she was alive Tobo and the
hidden folk would've found her. Nothing hides from the Black
Hounds for long."

"Soldiers live," I whispered. "It ain't
right, something like that happening." But Fortune does not
care. Unless Fortune gets a laugh out of human pain. "There
has to be more meaning . . . "

"You going mystical on us at this late date,
Croaker?" Sleepy snapped. "You're the one who
always says nothing has any meaning we don't put into it
ourselves."

"Sure as shit sounds like me, don't it? Let's
go work out our frustrations by kicking Mogaba's antique
ass."

Sleepy gave us the once-over, unwilling to send us out while we
were in so bleak a mood. We might be dangerous to ourselves.

She was no happier with us later. We did not improve, any of us.
Finally, she swallowed her reservations and told us to go.

Howler had completed a large carpet capable of moving twenty
passengers. Tonight it carried sixteen of those, plus freight.
Amongst the sixteen were both elder Voroshk, a number of
commando-trained soldiers from Hsien and Murgen. Murgen had been
zombielike since Lady's failed ritual. He had overheard her
saying she thought Sahra was dead.

I had urged him to stay behind but he insisted on joining
us.

I should have stood fast. He could not help but be a
liability.

Tobo was less distracted. He was too involved with Shukrat to be
obsessed about his mother being missing. Still, he would bear
watching.

Lady and I dressed up in full costume, with Voroshk apparel over
the black Widowmaker and Lifetaker armor. My two ravens tagged
along. Arkana flew with us, being tested. Which she understood
fully.

Down below, dark things were on the move. They had been since
nightfall.

Taglios never sleeps. Tonight those with reasons to be out after
dark would have cause to worry about what might be lurking in the
shadows. Hey, Mogaba. Look out. Darkness always comes.

We were still climbing away from camp when I eased over next to
Lady. We flew knee to knee, our Voroshk apparel whipping in the
breeze for twenty yards behind us. First we discussed which of our
companions needed watching the closest, then we revisited the
failed attempt to contact Sahra's spirit. For the twentieth
time. Lady insisted, "I do believe she's out there,
just as desperate to make contact with us as we were to make
contact with her. But the ugly Goddess wants to keep us
apart."

"Is Kina awake?"

"More than she has been for a long, long time. At least
since Goblin went down there. Maybe since the days when she sensed
her doom afoot and commenced her war on us ere ever we entered this
country."

Ere ever? Wow. "I have a question on another subject.
It's been bothering me for a long time but I've never
quite been able to put the words together right."

"Artist."

"Power junkie."

"What's your question, Old Style?"

"What happened to Soulcatcher's shadows?"

Lady looked at me blankly.

"Come on. The old brain can't have slowed down that
much. She was an accomplished shadowmaster. She didn't have a
lot of shadows left because Tobo's pets kept picking them
off. She stopped trying to use them against us. But she still had
some hidden away somewhere. Saved for a rainy day."

Lady growled, "It couldn't have gotten any stormier
than it did." But she was not arguing. She had her mind
wrapped around the question. "My bet is that the Unknown
Shadows finished them all off. There aren't any killer
shadows left. If there were we'd still be hearing reports of
unexplained deaths."

"Maybe." Probably. If they were out there anywhere
the excitement the shadows would cause would be much greater than
the numbers justified. The peoples of the Taglian territories had a
long history of suffering from killer shadows.

Even so, I moved up until I was flying hip to hip with Tobo, an
eventuality Shukrat found distasteful. She drifted away. Rather
haughtily adolescent, I thought.

"I don't plan to take over your life." I told
the boy about my concerns.

He seemed to agree that they were valid. "I'll find
out if there's any reason to worry."

I fell back until I rejoined Lady.

She asked, "What did he say?"

"He'll check it out."

"You don't sound real happy about that."

"He said it the way you do when you agree with somebody
just so you don't have to spend time with them fussing over
something that doesn't bother you."


Chapter 104 

Taglios: View from the Protector's
Window

Mogaba's
eyelids kept getting heavier. Twice he drifted off completely, to
start awake violently, disturbed once by some clamor in the city,
once by shouting down below that suggested the guards might have
glimpsed the Khadidas. It was the wee hours of the morning, when
even the heartbeat of the world had trouble thumping on.

They were not going to come tonight. They had not come last
night, nor the night before. Maybe they were waiting for a larger
moon.

Something dark blurred the glass in the window whence the Great
General watched his own quarters and the best part of the
Palace's northern face. Including all the significant
entrances. He did not even breathe.

The Unknown Shadows could not find a way past the glass and the
Protector's permanent wards. Mogaba resumed breathing.
Slowly, invisible in the deep darkness of the room, he rose and
glided nearer the glass, so that he would have a broader view.

They had come. Not when he had expected but exactly where. The
same place their messengers had come every time. That same turret
top.

He felt no particular elation. What he felt, in fact, was
sorrow. All their lives, his and theirs, had come to no more than
this. For a moment there was even the temptation to shout a
warning. To cry out that that prideful fool who had made such a
stupid choice in Dejagore so long ago had not meant any of them to
come to this. But, no. It was too late. Fortune's die was
cast. The cruel game had to be played to its end, no matter what
anyone wanted.


Chapter 105 

The Palace: The Great General's
Place

Lady led the way,
grim as ever when she donned the Lifetaker persona. I was not
pleased. Someone with more power ought to have been first down the
stair. But Tobo was sure he needed to go last. Otherwise the Howler
and the Voroshk might not feel motivated enough to participate. And
Howler would not go first because he had to manage his carpet until
everybody was off.

The stair was crowded. No one wanted to be there in that
darkness, though only Lady, Murgen and I were old enough to
remember when darkness was our determined foe. I tried to stay
close to Lady, my foolish mind somehow afflicted with the notion
that I had to protect her.

There went a joke of cosmic proportion.

We made it down the stairwell without mishap. And, despite a
horrendous racket, without causing any alarm. Lady murmured,
"Mogaba must be sleeping the sleep of the innocent. All that
noise should've raised the dead."

"Uhn?"

"His quarters are straight ahead."

I knew that. We had rehearsed this raid before we left. In a
half-ass sort of way. Which means not thoroughly enough to satisfy
me.

"He's a heavy sleeper," I said. That was one
of the few knocks against him before his defection. That and an
intensity even his brother Nar had found oppressive. But I was
speaking to the night. She was pulling ahead.

Someone generated a light, a feeble glowball that drifted above
our heads. It had an alien feel so I assume one of the Voroshk was
responsible. As the light grew so did a sense of relaxation, of
confidence.

Maybe one of those cranky old men was not as dim as he let
on.

"The light is my familiar," someone murmured in one
of the dialects of Hsien. The phrase possessed the rhythm of
ritual. Later I would learn that it was part of an incantation
meant to repel the Unknown Shadows, those being disliked by
everyone but Tobo.

The hidden realm was there, too, all around us. And so troubled
that even I could feel it.

Tobo whispered, "There's something strange here. I
had hundreds of the hidden folk put into the Palace. But none of
them are reporting. As far as I can tell they aren't here
anymore." He whispered to the creepy darkness. Things unseen
moved around us, jostling us from directions we were not looking.
Some of the stress oppressing me went away.

Lady beckoned soldiers forward. It was time to break into
Mogaba's quarters. Though that implies more force than was
needed. His door was not locked. Nor had it ever been before,
according to Lady.

She and Shukrat took point. They knew their ways around. Unless
clever Mogaba had rearranged his furniture.

Soldiers followed. The Voroshk and Howler crept inside. Murgen
followed them. Lady and Shukrat began to argue sharply, in
whispers, about who should find a lamp. Somebody stumbled into
somebody else. Somebody fell down. Another somebody crashed into
something. Then somebody else stated categorically, "Oh,
shit!"

Arkana was just sliding into the room, a step ahead of me, when
Tobo echoed those sentiments from behind me. He started to push.
"Out of the way, damnit!"

A huge crash of breaking pottery. I had not known that Mogaba
was a collector, though there were some marvellous craftsmen in
this part of the world . . . 

A man screamed.

Before his lungs were empty other screams joined his. And
fireballs leapt from small projectors. And I knew why so many men
were screaming and why they were so panicky they were blowing holes
through one another.

Shadows.

The old evil. Killer shadows.

Deadly shadows off the glittering plain. Shadows, the
exploitation of which had given the Shadowmasters their name.
Shadows of the sort Soulcatcher had used to prop up her
Protectorate until the coming of Tobo's allies from the Land
of Unknown Shadows.

I had the answer to the question I had addressed to Lady and
Tobo.

People panicked completely. Fireballs flew everywhere, caused
far more carnage than mere starving mad shadows. One of those
ripped through my Voroshk cloak. The cloak seemed to whine but
pulled itself together around me. A shadow hit me. My apparel
repelled it, a fact I did not fail to note despite the rising
chaos. It also shed the next fireball that found me.

I saw Lady hit several times, rapidly. I saw one of the Voroshk
succumb to shadows.

I tried to bellow into the madness, to calm them down, but the
panic had them all. Even Howler and Lady caught it.

But Shukrat did keep her wits about her. She crouched in a
corner and let her cloak form a barrier impervious to fireballs and
shadows alike.

Men fought to get out the door. Howler loosed a spell that
flashed so brightly it blinded everyone not in Voroshk protective
clothing, including the little sorcerer himself. His effort did not
avail. A moment later he screamed with more enthusiasm than ever he
had before his cure.

"Get out of my way!" Tobo bellowed. He hurled me
aside. His father was inside that room.

Before I regained my feet the tower was creaking under the
psychic mass of Tobo's unseen friends. Their battle with the
invisible killers was brief but belated. And, probably, needless,
because the fireballs ate shadows alive. Unknown
Shadows as well as the traditional lurkers in darkness.

I did not know if I wanted to get off the floor. It was very
still in that other room now, except for Arkana crying. But I had
to get up. We had to get moving. The rest of the palace was not
silent anymore. An alarm had been sounded. People with sharp
instruments would be coming to get us.

It was impossible to tell who was dead, who was dying, and who
was only mildly injured. For a while it was too dark.

I got Tobo to provide another light. Then I started getting the
fallen moved back to the tower top. Arkana and Shukrat and
Tobo's hidden allies kept the Palace Guard at bay. I kept my
emotions turned off while I lugged bodies. At the moment I could
not afford to indulge.

"How are we going to get these posts and the carpet out of
here?" I demanded. Lady, both of the elder Voroshk, Howler,
Murgen were all out of action. So were most of the commandos.

"Shukrat and I can handle the carpet. You and Arkana will
have to tow the posts."

"You hear that, new daughter?" Minutes earlier I had
been about to slap the girl around to crack her shock. But she had
solid stuff inside her. She was dragging the dead and injured now,
calmer than most of the others.

"I know. I'll need something to use for
tethers."

"Find it fast. I'll lug bodies."

A crossbow bolt buzzed past without doing any harm. An instant
later the section of wall whence it had come was shattered rock and
boiling flame.

Tobo was not in a kindly mood.

I told Arkana, "You get those posts out of here right now.
All but mine." She had gotten some rope from aboard the
carpet.

Good girl, Arkana. She got busy. Like Shukrat, she focused on
the task at hand.

Funny, I thought, how the Company seemed to attract good
women.

The Palace Guards and a surprising number of Greys responded to
the alarm. And they refused to be intimidated by Tobo's
violence and by Tobo's half-seen friends. Brave men, they.
There are always brave and honorable men amongst one's
enemies. Missiles filled the air. A few found targets.

I began to wonder if this would not be a good time to reconsider
my lifelong determination never to leave Company people behind.

But I was incapable of leaving without my wife. And I needed the
old Voroshk. Even if they were dead.


Chapter 106 

The Palace: View from a High Place

Mogaba felt no
elation as he watched the disaster unfold, In fact, he became more
troubled. He could see that there would be survivors. Those people
were still strong enough to hold off the Guards and Greys while
they evacuated their casualites. That meant that, unless he enjoyed
a gargantuan turn of luck and they were all killed by missiles
before they could get away, he still faced a final battle.

He had no tricks left in his bag.

The shadows had not been completely effective. Which proved what
he had suspected for some time. The enemy had a similar force at
his disposal. And that force had responded in time to save some of
the raiders.

He watched crossbow bolts, arrows and even javelins bounce off
the creatures in the great seething black cloaks. Only one of those
people got hurt.

A fireball's flare, as the big carpet backed away from the
parapet, gave just enough light for Mogaba to distinguish the
Lifetaker armor.

"Lady," he murmured. Awed.

That same flash must have reflected off his eyeballs or teeth,
betraying him somehow. Because when he glanced at the post riders
he found the one in the Widowmaker armor hurling straight at him,
black cape expanding to shut out the sky.


Chapter 107 

Taglios: Soldiers Live

I saw Mogaba
behind the window. Rage devoured me. I drove straight at him,
accelerating. And even as I did some tiny remnant of rationality
wondered if what I had glimpsed was real, not my mind seeing what
it wanted because I needed somebody else to hurt as much as I had
begun to do.

If the Mogaba I saw was my own creation it vanished before I
smashed into the window glazing.

The glass did not break. It did not yield at all. My post
stopped dead. I did not. The post rebounded. I smacked into the
glass. Then I bounced back. And fell. I had time for one very
enthusiastic howl before I reached the end of my tether, then I was
flailing around ten feet below my post.

The post kept driving forward, kept rebounding. I tried to climb
back up but could get nowhere with only one reliable hand. The
motion of the post got me swinging like the weight on a pendulum.
One end of each swing brought me into intimate contact with the
Palace wall.

The Voroshk cloak protected me well, but unconsciousness
eventually came.


I was still dangling when I recovered. The ground was only a few
yards below and moving slowly. I seemed to be flying along above
the Rock Road, barely clearing the heads of travelers. I tried
twisting so I could look up but could not manage. The tether was
attached to me in the back, just above my waist. I did not have
strength enough to twist around.

I did have a bit of pain when I struggled.

I lost consciousness again.

I was back in mankind's natural state, on the ground, when
I wakened again. A pointy hunk of chert was trying to gouge a hole
through my back. Somebody said something in one of the dialects of
Hsien, then repeated himself in bad Taglian. Arkana materialized
overhead, face somber. "You going to live, Pop?"

"All the aches and pain I've got, it's a sure
thing. What happened?"

"You did something stupid."

"What else is new?" a second voice demanded.
Sleepy's face materialized opposite Arkana. "How soon
you going to get off your back, part-time? I need some help. This
disaster show you guys engineered is about to put us out of
business."

"Be right with you, Boss. Soon as I get my leg bones
unbraided and my feet hooked back onto my ankles."

The effort of trying to get up, because I wanted to find my
wife, pushed me over into the darkness again.

Rain in my face wakened me the next time. My physical pains had
turned to dull aches. They had gotten something into me.
Cataloging, I decided I had a lot of bruises but nothing was broken
or permanently damaged.

Just when I started to make an effort to get up I floated
upward. After a momentary panic I realized that I was on a litter,
being moved in out of the rain. Being lifted onto the litter was
what had interrupted my sleep, not those first few misty
raindrops.

I got a better grip this time. I remained rational when Sleepy
turned up. "How's my wife?" I asked, with only a
small squeak in my voice.

"She's still alive. But her situation isn't
good. Though it's better than it would've been if she
hadn't been wearing the Voroshk outfit. I'd guess she
might recover. If we can get Tobo to stay focused long enough to
help."

I heard the unspecified offer of a job assignment in there
somewhere. "What's the kid's problem?"

"His father got killed. Where were you?"

I grunted. "I was afraid of that." Maybe I had tried
to shut it out. It was going to hurt.

Sleepy seemed to think we did not have time for pain.

I had begun to trust her instincts.

"You had it right, Croaker. Soldiers live. Only three
people got out of that scrape unhurt. Tobo, Arkana and a very lucky
soldier named Tam Do Linh. Howler, the First Father, Nashun the
Researcher, Murgen and all the other soldiers, didn't. The
rest of you are hurt. Tobo feels guilty. He thinks he
should've done more. He thinks he should've realized it
was a trap."

"I understand. What about Shukrat?"

"Bruises and abrasions and emotional distress. The Voroshk
clothing took good care of her. It knew her so well it adapted
faster than Lady's could. As I understand it."

"Murgen could've worn Voroshk protection." But
he had refused. Damn him.

There had not been much fight in him since Sahra's
disappearance.

"I want you to straighten Tobo out. We need him back. We
need the Unknown Shadows. If I was in Mogaba's boots
I'd have another attack force headed our way
already."

"I don't think so."

"The man doesn't wait around, Croaker. His gospel
is, seize the initiative."

I could only make an ass of myself arguing with a woman who had
fought the Great General more years than I had known him. Who had
lived in Taglios for as many years as I had, much more recently.
Evidently I was just another cranky old man raising a fuss for the
attention. Except when she needed something. "Then we'd
better arrange for it to get really dangerous for him personally if
anything happens to any of us."

I felt stupid before I finished saying that. For Mogaba there
was little chance life would ever be more dangerous than it was
already.

I had forgotten an early lesson. Try to reason like the enemy.
Study him until you can think just like him. Until you can become
him.

Sleepy told me, "You need to find yourself an apprentice,
too. If you're going to keep getting involved in lethal
stuff." At your age was implied--until the Captain actually
said, "You're too long in the tooth to be out there
right where it's happening. It's time you eased up and
started passing your secrets along."

Sleepy went away, leaving me wondering. Who was I supposed to
tap? I was inclined to pick her buttboy, Mihlos Sedona, except that
the kid had one huge shortcoming. He was totally illiterate. And I
did not have any inclination to put in all the hours needed to
alter that condition.

Then the man I maybe should have been thinking of turned up on
his own, voluntarily.

"Suvrin? What the hell's gotten into you?
You're going to leave us most any day now."

"So perhaps I've had an epiphany. Maybe I need to
learn the Annals because I've decided to face my
destiny."

"Is that the fragrance of bullshit wafting on the
breeze?" Being an old cynic I thought it was more likely that
he thought this would somehow get him laid. But I did not suggest
anything. I just accepted him, then groaned upon discovering that
Sleepy's wonderfully educated young man neither wrote nor
read a single word of Taglian, which has been the language of these
Annals for the last twenty-five years.

Lady's book was the last written in another language. And
Murgen had translated and updated that, along with a couple of my
own that had not really needed any polish.

"Think you can learn to read and write Taglian?" I
asked. "You might never need to do
either . . . "

"Unless I want to read the Annals. The holy scriptures of
the Black Company."

"Yeah. If I go, you'll be on your own unless Sleepy
makes time or Lady recovers." I had had time enough now to
put together an act of indifference. But I was not convincing
anybody.

Suvrin stared, waiting for the punchline.

There was none, really, except that he ought to make an effort
to see that I stayed healthy long enough for him to develop the
needed skills.

Two days after Suvrin became my understudy Sleepy stage-managed
a ceremony that formalized his appointment as Lieutenant of the
Black Company and her heir-apparent.

We were outside that big, nameless hilltop stronghold which
broods over the Rock Road approach to Taglios. A large plain had
been leveled and prepared as a place where troops could camp or
could practice the close-order skills necessary for success in
battle. Or as a place where forces defending the city could engage
an advancing enemy.

No one bothered us there, other than small Vehdna cavalry bands
made up of youths who wanted to show off their courage. But I
advised both Sleepy and Suvrin against leaving the stronghold
unvanquished behind us.

Sleepy was no more interested in advice than ever before but
these days she did pretend to listen. Her own approach to conquest
had been a disaster mitigated only by the fact that a few of us had
survived.


Chapter 108 

Taglios: Someone at the Door

Upon reflection,
after we beat back a relief sortie by troops from Taglios, the
commander of the fortress offered to surrender on terms. He wanted
paroles for himself and damned near everyone who ever bore arms in
the three nearest counties. Which was not all that unreasonable, I
thought, considering we were going to turn all this over to the
Prahbrindrah Drah as soon as the deal closed and the Prince could
get his ass up here from Ghoja.

Even after all her years in the real world Sleepy retained some
Vehdna notions about right and wrong that had nothing to do with
the practicalities of the moment.

"Even if this Lal Mindrat is the worst human monster since
the Shadowmasters themselves, you have to consider what your moral
rigidity can cost the rest of us," I told Sleepy. Evidently
Lal Mindrat had betrayed some of our allies during the Kiaulune
wars. I had not heard of him before Sleepy started getting uppity
so it could not have been a major betrayal.

A good many friends of the Company had been turned by the
Protector in those days. Soulcatcher had had the power and
wealth.

"Be flexible," I advised. "But treacherous
when absolutely necessary."

She understood. With some half-ass help from Tobo and his
friends, and the appropriate promises of parole and safe passage,
Sleepy got our enemies to evacuate the stronghold with no more
violence than occurred when Lal Mindrat came out with his
lifeguard.

Thus the Captain finished her business with a minor traitor from
her own era. For the time being.


Mogaba made our approach hell, at least for those of us who
pulled the recon, picket and vanguard duties. Horsemen never
stopped harassing our forward elements. The Voroshk girls and I
went out whenever the enemy's behavior became overly
obnoxious.

Eventually we reached the great South Gate of Taglios, something
that had not existed in my time. These days a truly substantial
wall stretched into the distance at either hand. The soldiers on
the ramparts seemed much too small. The wall reared up like a vast
cliff of limestone.

"Wow!" I told Sleepy. 'There's been some
changes made." The entrance to the city was a fortress in
itself, outside the wall but attached to it. I could not tell from
the ground for sure but it looked like an equally formidable
structure guarded the pass-through from within.

Sleepy grunted. "Been a few since I was here. Methinks the
Great General must have inveigled some appropriations out of the
Protector somehow. They've added several feet to the height
of the wall. And that barbican
complex . . . " She shrugged.

As I remembered city politics, public works were particularly
vulnerable to graft and corrupt practices. "Somebody in the
treasury offices must have been blowing in the Protector's
ear."

Sleepy grunted again, uninterested in my opinion. She was
watching Suvrin spread the troops out facing the city, offering
battle. No response was expected. No response was what he got.

I said, "They don't have to be careful of
anybody's property, at least." More than the immensity
of the wall itself, I was awed by the existence of a
thousand-foot-wide band of empty ground lapping the wall's
foot. What had it taken to get people moved off that ground? How
did the state keep them off?

"In a few months there'll be grainfields and
vegetable patches as far as you can see. That grid of pathways
marks the boundaries of the patches. They started that back right
after Sahra and I first came to the city."

"Tobo's going to be a busy boy."

Sleepy examined our forces, left and right. They did not appear
threatening against the backdrop of the wall. Nor did anyone atop
that wall appear concerned.

"He will. I expect him and the girls to hit hard, with
everything they have, right from the start, so people in there will
be stunned by the fury of it. Is he going to be able to do
it?"

"I can't guarantee you his heart'll be in
it."

"What about you? Is your heart going to be in
it?"

I heaved a huge sigh.

Sleepy asked, "How is she doing?"

Another major sigh. "Honestly? I'm worried. She just
lays there, midway between life and death. She gets no better; she
gets no worse. I'm starting to wonder how much the Kina
connection has to do with all that."

It took a major effort to let that out. Because of what the
Captain might consider if she grasped all the implications. And she
began to see some right away.

I said, "If I can pull Tobo through his grief he may be
able to find out if Kina's gained any control." I
dreaded the possibility that the Dark Mother was setting my wife up
as an alternate route of escape from her ancient prison. I could
imagine a scenario wherein I struck the sleeping Goddess and freed
Shivetya only to see the darkness return through the woman I
love.

Not that it would take the Mother of Night to accomplish that.
She was entirely willing to welcome in her own breed of
darkness.

Aren't we all.

The Captain said, "I haven't heard a direct answer.
Can I count on you to actually pay attention when the arrows start
to fly?"

An old, old formula came to mind, from back when I was very
young indeed. "I am a soldier." I said it first in the
language I had spoken then, then repeated myself in Sleepy's
own Dejagoran dialect. "I've been distracted before.
I'm still alive."

"Yeah, soldiers live. You only get one mistake,
Croaker."

"Go teach your granny to suck eggs." Which was a
waste of colorful language. The expression had no meaning amongst
these peoples.

"What's that?" Sleepy asked, pointing at
something rising above the city.

"Looks like a big-ass kite."


Chapter 109 

Taglios: No Excuses Accepted

Damn it! No matter
how much I wanted it Mogaba refused to be stupid. Facing potential
problems with an infestation of airborne wizards? Take advantage of
the season's almost constant winds. Put up about ten thousand
giant box kites with poisoned sharp things hanging on tails made of
braided fibers almost too tough to cut.

There would be no zooming about with youthful exuberance over
Taglios. Especially not after dark. Those kites would not be able
to hurt us in our Voroshk clothing but they could entangle us and
knock us off our posts. Whereupon whoever lost their seat would
need someone else to come along and bring them out.
Unless . . . 

Shukrat once fixed me up with a post that would travel on its
own when its master could not manage it.

I issued an order.

Just hours later Shukrat's post brought the girl herself
back virtually mummified in cord and deadly sharps that took hours
to overcome. But she had cleaned away scores of kites.

I made Tobo untangle her. I was having a real problem getting
him engaged with life. But Shukrat was supposed to be important to
him.

She certainly thought so. Once he finished freeing her, too
slowly to suit her, she popped him in the middle of the forehead
with the heel of her right hand. "How about you at least
pretend to be interested, Tobe?" And, moments later,
"You're making me wonder just how bright I
am."

Tobo was a real young man. He started to protest. I tried to
warn him by shaking my head. No way was he going to break even
here. Shukrat cut him off, unwilling to grant him the validity of
any excuse. After that I tried not to hear what they were
saying.

I mused on Shukrat's swift, nearly effortless grasp of
Taglian. She had almost no accent at all, now. And she appeared
equally adaptable regarding strange customs.

Arkana was having more difficulty but she was coming along
marvelously, too.

Having allowed the girlfriend time to make her point, I
approached Tobo. "Tobo, we need to know about what's
going on behind those walls."

He did not look like he cared much.

Shukrat punched him.

I told him, "You have to let go."

He gave me one ugly look.

"You have to let go of the guilt. It wasn't your
fault."

I doubted that telling him would do any good. These things never
are rational. Your mind goes on chasing the irrational even when it
knows the truth. If Tobo wanted to feel guilty about his father and
mother he would find ways to do that in the face of every argument,
of any bit of evidence, and of all the common sense in the
universe. I know. I have suffered through that bleak season a few
times myself.

I had a little of it going right then, featuring my wife.

Shukrat said, "The Great General did it, Tobe. The Taglian
supreme commander. And he's inside those same
walls."

There you go, girl. Appeal to the darkness within, to the stores
of rage and hatred. We really needed to get those emotions cooking
inside the most powerful sorcerer left in this part of the
world.


Chapter 110 

Taglios: Misfortunes

The Unknown
Shadows told Tobo that Mogaba and his cronies were hunkered down,
waiting us out. They thought we might begin to fade away before
long, despite our wealth.

They could be right. Though Sleepy had plenty of treasure left,
many of the soldiers from Hsien had signed on for only one year in
the field. I did not doubt that many would stay as long as their
pay was on time but I did not doubt, either, that homesickness
would begin to bleed us, too.

We cleared away kites faster than Mogaba could put new ones up.
We made a few high altitude raids each night. We dropped firepots
on the properties of known allies of the Protector, the Great
General, and the Greys. But fire is a cruel and unruly ally. Some
that we started spread way beyond their targets. Even more smoke
than usual clung to the city.

A second midnight approach to the occupied portion of the palace
provided us with some distinctly unwelcome news. We learned that
Mogaba's efforts to seize our encampment beside the
Shadowlander cemetery, while tactically disastrous for his
loyalists, had not been entirely unprofitable.

Sleepy's chief of staff decided he needed a firsthand look
at the Palace. For planning purposes. He was a thorough man. At
Sleepy's urging he and other selected folk had been getting
training using the Voroshk flying posts. We had seven available
with only five regularly assigned. And Lady was not using hers
these days. Sleepy hated seeing resources going to waste. Sleepy
being Sleepy.

The chief of staff had Mihlos Sedona join us. Mihlos was the
most competent of the part-time flyers though his only excuse for
getting the opportunity was that the Captain liked him. And wanted
his observations. No way was she going aloft herself.

I went along to make sure those two had somebody to bail them
out if they got in trouble. I made them wear Voroshk apparel, too.
If we were seen we could expect missile fire. Mogaba's people
never gave up trying.

You just need one lucky break.

Mihlos Sedona had not yet realized that he was not immortal. He
ventured too close to the enemy. Then we all learned how Mogaba had
profited from disaster.

A fireball ripped through the darkness. The boy escaped the
worst of it by hurling himself to one side. The fireball struck him
a glancing blow, which, however, was enough to knock him off his
post.

General Chu ignored my shout and went after Sedona. And actually
managed to get close enough to get a hold on his post. As fireballs
streaked in from half a dozen sources.

One struck Chu's post dead solid.

The explosion of that post was violent enough to set off the
other. And the two in concert were violent enough to smash in an
acre of Palace like an invisible giant's foot stomping on
eggshells.

More Palace continued to cave in around the initial
collapse.

A wicked wind flung me around like a rogue dandelion seed. Once
again I lost my grip and fell off my steed. While dangling I caught
rolling glimpses of flames beginning to peek through cracks in the
rubble, of panic beginning to prowl amongst the soldiers atop the
palace.


Chapter 111 

Taglios: Sleepy Flew

We're going
to start strapping you down, Pop," Arkana told me as she
towed me into camp. She had been on a routine patrol kite-clearing
when the explosion happened. In rushing to see the results she
almost got knocked out of the sky by a daredevil swinging from a
flying fence post.

"Just get me down. Fast. Preferably right in front of the
Captain's tent." Sleepy had to know. Now. And somebody
needed to go watch the Palace. If the whole damned thing caved
in . . . If Mogaba and his henchmen died in the
disaster. . . . If the Khadidas and the
Daughter of Night escaped in the resulting
chaos. . . . 

Some hearty fires were burning over there now. A strong glow
silhouetted the city wall now.

I kept having to explain as more notables reached the
Captain's tent. And I kept urging Sleepy to make whatever
move she was considering making right away. Never again would the
other side be as confused and disordered as they must be now. She
agreed but pointed out that our bunch were not terribly well
organized right now, either.

The Captain dealt with the problem of interruptions in the most
amazing fashion I could imagine. After delegating Suvrin to begin
preparing an attack, she told me, "Take me up there. Show me
what's happened."

"You?"

"Me. I'll keep my eyes closed until there's
something to see. Before we leave I'll throw an old blanket
over my seat so I won't get your post all wet."

I shook my head, disconsolate. "I wish Swan was still
around. A straight line like that shouldn't go to waste.
Let's do it."

"Wait. Suvrin." She issued more instructions. So he
would have something to do in his spare time.

Her absence would slow nothing down.

"Tie yourself on good," I told Sleepy. "I
might decide to do a few loops while we're up
there."

She growled like a whole pack of angry rats. Made it clear that
if she fell off I might as well just keep on going.

"All right. But coming home hanging underneath like a carp
on a stringer is a lot better than the alternative."

"If you don't mind a little
embarrassment."

"I don't mind at all if I'm alive to get red
in the face." Something you learn as you get older. Or, at
least, you should.

We were passing over the gateway complex when I realized that I
had gone right back up without having paused to check on my
wife.

Was I not a little old to feel guilty about everything? She
would not be going anywhere any time soon.

It was not possible to get dangerously close to the Palace. The
fires were huge now. The heat was intense, even through the Voroshk
clothing. And the higher you flew the more turbulent the air
became. There were no kites anywhere nearby anymore.

I figured Mogaba would give up on the kites soon. They were not
doing us any harm.

Sleepy clung to the post with white knuckles. I wondered if we
would need a chisel to break her grip once we got back on the
ground. But she did manage to keep her voice sounding normal.
"What in the world is burning? That place isn't
anything but a big old stone pile."

The flames were not limited to the Palace now. Several fires
were burning nearby. The entire area was crawling with people, most
being gawkers who just got in the way of the soldiers, officials
and volunteers actually trying to accomplish something.

"Somebody's still thinking," I told Sleepy.
"They've put troops around the place." I dropped
lower and moved close enough to spot Aridatha Singh out working two
thin lines of soldiers, one facing outward, holding the mobs back,
the other, stronger, facing inward. The latter were more heavily
armed. Anyone leaving the palace was going to get a good hard look.
"I hope they got those guys in place before the Khadidas and
the girl got away."

"Back to the gate. If we're ever going to invade
this city, now is the time."

"You found enough boats yet?"

She tensed up. She did not answer for a moment. "You
figured it out."

"Logic suggests that it makes no sense to storm those
walls with no more men than we have. Particularly when Taglios has
almost no defenses on the river side." A point which would
have occurred to the Great General, too.

"There is no easy way in," Sleepy told me.
"The defenses on the river side just aren't as
obvious." She proceeded to explain about log booms and chains
that controlled traffic, forcing it into narrow channels
well-ranged by massed artillery ashore. A barge loaded with
attackers could be pounded into driftwood and fish food in
minutes.

I said, "I see where this is going."

"Do you really? Will I attack by day or by
night?"

"It's dark now but by the time you can get anybody
to the point of attack the sun will be up."

"Take me back. I have to get things moving
faster."


Chapter 112 

Taglios: Under Siege

Ghopal Singh
looked terrible. He had been close enough to the fire to have had
his beard singed. He had blisters on both face and hands. His
turban was gone. The rest of him was rags and smoke smell.

"You'll never pass inspection," Mogaba told
him.

Singh's sense of humor was moribund. "We've
got it controlled inside. It'll burn itself out. Out there in
the city . . . Pray for unseasonable
rain."

"Good luck doesn't always work out, does
it?"

Grudgingly, Singh said, "No way we could know what would
happen if a fireball hit one of those flying things."

"No. Of course not. Here comes Aridatha. Like a crow.
There'll be more bad news." Mogaba glanced eastward.
Not even close to dawn yet. Why was this night stretching out so
long? "You've got a spot of ash on your right trouser
leg, Aridatha."

The commander of the City Battalions actually paused to deal
with the matter before he realized that the Great General was
teasing him. More or less. Aridatha said, "They're
trying to take advantage of the confusion. I'm getting
reports about ghosts and terrors at work around the South Gate and
the river forts."

"They're really coming?" Ghopal Singh could
not believe the enemy would assault Taglios with so few soldiers.
He had expected them to just sit tight in hopes they could forge
alliances with disaffected elements inside the wall.
"Where?"

"The river," Mogaba predicted. "They've
had time to scout. That's where we're the
weakest."

"Maybe they just want us to
think . . . "

"They can't get a strong force into place for a
while yet.
When they attack from the air we'll know they're on
their way and where they think they can get through."

Minutes later word came that enemy commandos were atop the wall
half a mile west of the South Gate, ferried there by flying carpet.
They were being reinforced rapidly. Neither the City Battalions nor
the Greys had much strength in that area. The bulk of the Second
Territorial was on the waterfront. The garrison of the barbican was
responding to the threat as best it could.

Mogaba looked to the east. Once the light came the enemy would
lose the advantage of his unseen allies. Then the city's
defenders could exploit their big advantage in numbers.

Ten minutes later news came that swimmers armed with small
fireball projectors had cut the chains and broken the booms at the
upstream end of the city. Firebombs were falling amongst the
artillery engines.

"You were right," Ghopal said, "It'll be
the river."

"Possibly. Where are their wizards?" Mogaba wanted
to know. He understood that the post riders need not be sorcerers.
"If we don't see wizards we have to remain skeptical
about their commitment to any particular attack. All I see now are
diversions."

"Shall we go out there?" Aridatha asked.

"Out where? Would you care to bet that other attacks
won't break out sometime soon? This is the best place for us
to be. We're central." It had occurred to him that he
was being watched. That the Captain's plans might hinge on
his own behavior. Whatever he did might direct enemy efforts where
he was not. It was what he would have done, given their resources.
"We'll stay central. Let's get a tighter cordon
around the parts of the Palace where the girl might be.
That'll let us free up some more of these men."

Hundreds had been freed up already, because the gawkers had
begun to melt away when fires elsewhere proved too fierce to
contain. As soon as there was a specific defense to mount Mogaba
would send reinforcements.

News came of fierce aerial attacks on the South Gate complex
itself. Massive volleys of fireballs were riddling the stonework
with thousands of holes. The sheer profligate expenditure of
fireballs awed everyone.

"That's the point, you know," Mogaba said.
"This Captain is more willing to fight than her predecessors
were but when she does she rachets the level of violence as high as
she can. She wants to stun her enemies so they'll be too numb
to react while she overwhelms them." A glance around told
Mogaba that the Captain's technique was enjoying some success
right here, right now. And neither General Singh was eager for a
lecture on the subject of combat psychology.

So Mogaba just noted, "And we'll be at a
disadvantage until we know which probe will become the real
attack."

And that, he suspected, had not yet been determined on the other
side, either. She could just be trying to find out where she could
get the best return for her investment. They never liked wasting
their men, the Company Captains.

"At this point we'll let the district commanders
respond to their own crises. We'll reinforce them only to
stop a disaster. What I need from you two is regular gauges of the
mood of the mob. So far they don't seem to care but we
wouldn't want any unwelcome surprises."

Ghopal offered, "I'd say the masses favor us. It
wasn't us who started all those fires."

Mogaba glanced eastward. There was a little color over there but
he felt no elation. Ghopal had reminded him of the oppressive
amount of work ahead once he suppressed the enemy's attacks.
Fires would leave tens of thousands homeless and destitute in a
city where a third of the population already enjoyed that
distinction.

Maybe he should just walk away and leave all the problems to
Sleepy.


Chapter 113 

Taglios: Attack

It became clear to
me that Sleepy wanted control of the South Gate itself. She was
flinging people and material around everywhere and using up those
of us able to fly, but when you did the numbers over half of our
efforts were taking place within a half mile of the barbican. And
the barbican itself had suffered immensely from above. Parts looked
like slag pierced by ten thousand holes.

I had better information than Mogaba did. But I knew that the
Great General would catch on soon enough. He possessed a well-honed
instinct for things warlike.

How flexible was the Captain's planning? Could she shift
her point of attack fast once Mogaba did catch on? I did not know.
Whatever level of planning had gone into this, I had not been
invited to participate. Only Suvrin had a real grasp of the whole
picture. And I was not that sure about him. This Sleepy was as
close as I used to be when it came to sharing her thoughts.

That seemed to go with the job. My predecessors had been the
same way. Someday it would hurt us.

It was just past noon. Striking suddenly from all directions and
enjoying maximum support from above and from Tobo, our troops
pushed into the barbican complex. The defense seemed doomed once
the assault teams got inside and got the outer gates open.

Mogaba did not respond. The streets near the gate complex did
empty as civilians decided this seemed like a good time not to be
visible. Bands of Taglian wounded retreated deeper into the city.
Still no one came forward to reinforce or relieve the defenders of
the barbican. Soldiers from
Mogaba's own Second Territorial began saying unkind things
about their boss.

Something was not right here. Mogaba was way too passive. The
man had to know that he had to do something before the night
returned and the Company waxed far more powerful by grace of the
Unknown Shadows.

Somehow, we had to be doing what Mogaba wanted us to do if he
was doing nothing to prevent us from doing it.

Yeah. You can drive yourself crazy trying to work your way
around all the angles of that kind of stuff.

Sleepy sent everybody but Tobo off to intensify the attack on
the upriver waterfront defenses. Evidently we had gained a good
foothold there, cheaply, so the Captain wanted to expand it.

I had begun to suspect that Sleepy really did have no fixed
plan. Other than to seize whatever Mogaba was willing to let
go.
An hour later, when loyalist troops did respond to the threat on
the waterfront, the South Gate again became the focus of our
attack.

I hoped she decided soon. I was worn out. And we still had hours
of daylight left.


I was right in the first place. She chose the gate.

Back when the men on the walls finally broke into the gate
houses a signal had gone up, to alert the Captain and Lieutenant.
There were two gate houses and both had to be cleared. One had
proven much more stubborn than the other. In the interim every man
not engaged elsewhere gathered outside, ready to attack.

Now Sleepy signalled the advance. The officers all had orders to
push through the barbican and drive straight on to the heart of the
city. They had guides to show them the way. The Captain wanted the
Palace captured swiftly. She believed we would face little
resistance in the rest of Taglios once its symbolic heart had
fallen. Word was out already that the Prahbrindrah Drah was on his
way, to reclaim his family's dominion.

Me, I would have had the Prince in my hip pocket first, ready to
flash in front of the mob right now. I would have him lead the
charge. But nobody asked me how I would handle things anymore.


Chapter 114 

Taglios: Bad News, White Crow

Mogaba received
the news about the South Gate in grim, expressionless silence. He
asked no questions, just looked to the west to see how much
daylight he had left. He turned to Aridatha and Ghopal. The latter
nodded slightly.

Once a messenger had departed, the Great General asked,
"Are they continuing their attack on the
waterfront?"

Aridatha responded. "At last report they were stepping it
up."

"Send another company. Their main force will head straight
here. With all their sorcery supporting it. A counterattack down
there should have an excellent chance of succeeding."

"And what should I do about the invaders?" Aridatha
asked.

"We've had that set for months. Just follow the
plan. Let it unfold."

Aridatha nodded, plainly wishing there was some way to reduce
the bloodshed. He was less pessimistic about the outcome of this
conflict than was the Great General. But he feared the price would
be so crippling that victory would be the greater evil for the city
as a whole.

Mogaba told him, "I want you to return to your own
headquarters now. Continue to direct your troops from
there."

"But . . . "

"If this goes badly and you're here with me when
they come you'll have to pay a crueler price than necessary.
Do as I say. Ghopal, you take over here. No one goes into the
Palace. No one comes out. If the enemy gets this far make sure they
know about the Khadidas and the Daughter of Night. I expect you to
stay out of the way yourself. The best people to get the
information to are the two wearing the fiery armor. Widowmaker and
Lifetaker. They'll listen to you. They're the
girl's natural parents. Aridatha, why are you still standing
there? You have your instructions."

Ghopal asked, "What'll you be doing?"

"Readying a pair of counterattacks that'll make
these strange foreign soldiers wish that they'd never left
the land where they were born." The Great General projected
immense confidence.

He did not feel a bit of it inside.

Nevertheless, his stride was that of an arrogant conquerer as he
walked away from the Palace, a gaggle of messengers and
functionaries scurrying behind him. He spun off orders as he
went.

Mogaba spotted the white crow watching from a cornice stone. He
beckoned. "Come down here." He patted his shoulder.

The bird did as it was bid, startling Mogaba's
entourage.

The Great General asked, "Are you who I think you
are?"


Chapter 115 

Taglios: The Special Team

There were some
tasks too important to entrust to anyone but family. The
responsible captains at the South Gate were always related to
Ghopal Singh, though they were officers in the City Battalions.
They were all men who dared not be disloyal because their pasts
were all tangled up with the Greys, the Great General, and the
Protectorate.

Also, they were men who were mentally disciplined enough to
retreat without running away. They were men who had prepared
themselves and their followers for this day. Though, originally,
they had expected the Protector herself to be entering their
killing zone.


Chapter 116 

Taglios: Outrageous Fortune

The passage
through the barbican seemed a maze from inside, though there were
only a half dozen turns. From above it did not look that bad. Until
huge blocks of stone fell out of the walls, blocking the way ahead
of and behind the Captain, trapping her, her staff and another
dozen men.

The falling blocks initiated a train of mechanical events, the
first of which was the launching of a storm of poisoned darts.
Horses screamed and men cursed. And, as I sent my flying post
downward to try to get the Captain out of there, burning oil
sprayed from ports in the walls.

So this was how they had planned to get rid of Soulcatcher.

The heat drove me back. The black Voroshk clothing could not
stand up to much of that.

Sleepy had chosen to place herself at the middle of the invading
column. Which meant our forces had just been split in two.

A massive counterattack was sure to develop.

I pushed myself up beside Arkana, who was numb with the horror.
"Get ahold of yourself! I want you to find Suvrin. Tell him
I'll take charge on the city side. He can build steps to get
the rest of the men past that mess. He can use the lumber meant for
siege engines. Go on! Get going!"

Once again I did not have to whack her to bring her out of her
stupor.

Once again Mogaba had dealt us one off the bottom of his deck.
This time our chances of surviving did not look good.

We should have been prepared for it. He had told us that there
were arrangements in place.

Sometimes you just do not hear what is being said.

I checked the sun before I reached the ground.

We would have to hang on for a bit longer than what inspired me
with optimism.

"It won't be long," I insisted to the
commanders on the ground. "We need to put ourselves into a
position to hang on until nightfall. Once darkness
comes . . . "

"The Unknown Shadows."

"The Hidden Realm."

Shouts. A scatter of arrows fell.

"Push a company along the wall that direction," I
directed. "I want those steps under our control when the
others start joining us." I had to show an optimism I did not
feel. I hoped Suvrin would press his half of the attack.

No man could question the courage of the soldiers from Hsien.
They mauled the City Battalions badly. They mauled reinforcements
from the Second Territorial. Unfortunately, the City Battalions and
Mogaba's Second Territorial elite mauled them right back. It
did not take long to see that Sleepy might have taken too big a
bite. The Great General seemed to have plenty of reserves, though
he was parsimonious when it came to investing them.

Vigorous support from Arkana, Shukrat and Tobo kept us from
being overwhelmed.

Once Tobo woke up enough to begin thinking more than
mechanically the tide began to turn. Once he recalled that he was
good for something more than dropping rocks and fire-pots. Once he
added his sorcerous skills to the girls' weaker ones we got
stinging insects, painful worms of fire, lemon and lime snowflakes
that pitted armor and flesh.

Nevertheless, the enemy kept us confined until darkness
came.

Darkness always comes.


Chapter 117 

Taglios: Night and the City

The Great General
took charge of the riverfront defenses personally. He found morale
abysmal when he arrived, accompanied by reserves from the Second
Territorial. The long succession of military disasters had the
soldiers suspecting that defeat was inevitable and that they were
being wasted in a hopeless cause.

The Great General himself led his own lifeguard in a
counterattack of such fury and finesse that the enemy soon lost
everything that it had taken them all day to capture.

The invaders got no support from above. The Great General
interpreted that to mean that they were in desperate straits at the
South Gate.

There was not a lot of communication between forces.
Nobody knew what anybody else was doing, really. The best anyone
could do was cling to the plans and hope the enemy did not get too
much enjoyment from his advantages.

Mogaba's opponents tried reinforcing themselves with
recent recruits. That did them little good. Those men entered the
fighting in groups too small to make any difference.

The last attackers fled in the barges they had used to make
their initial landings, drifting downriver because they did not
have enough men healthy enough to row against the current. All the
barges were overburdened, one so much so that it shipped water at
the slightest rocking. It did not remain afloat long.

Mogaba treated himself to a long breather. He turned his mind
off completely, closed his eyes, let the cold winter air chill
him.

When he was calm and breathing normally again he allowed himself
to return to the moment.

He could get the best of this thing yet. If he could get these
men to the South Gate and get in a hard blow he might damage the
enemy enough to earn his own people a fair chance of making it
through the night. If he succeeded, victory would be his. They
would not be able to survive everything he would throw at them
tomorrow.

He opened his eyes.

The white crow stared at him from a perch on a broken cartwheel
scarcely a foot from his face.

The crow started talking.

That bird was a much better messenger and spy than the crows he
had known in earlier days.

The Great General listened for a long time. And wondered if the
mind behind the bird was aware of his disloyalty.

He would not bring it up first.

The Great General dragged himself upright, ignoring the
complaints of aching muscles. "Sergeant Mugwarth. Spread the
word. All officers. Round up every man who can walk. We're
moving up to relieve the South Gate."

The enemy's aerial advantage betrayed the trap before it
could close. Mogaba left the soldiers to their work and hastened
toward the Palace. He arrived as dusk began to deepen shadows. The
view from that eminence included half a dozen fires still burning.
Smoke and trickles of fire still attended the fallen parts of the
Palace, too.

Awaiting him was the news that the enemy had reduced most of the
defenses at the downriver end of the city. Their forces there had
been augmented by the survivors from upriver. These outsiders were
stubborn fighters.

"Send reinforcements?" Ghopal asked.

Mogaba thought a moment. Those foreigners ought to be near their
limits. "Yes, actually. These are all your men here, around
the Palace, aren't they?"

"I thought that would be best. Makes them all men I can
trust."

"Let Aridatha's soldiers take their place. Send
yours to the waterfront. And gather up any of your brothers and
cousins who're still alive, I want them here."

"What? . . . "

"Do it. Quickly. Quickly. And round up all those captured
fireball throwers."

"I think we used most of them up."

"That means they're some of them left. I want them
all."

Darkness came. And soon after it did messages reached the Great
General informing him that his enemies, inside both their
footholds, were hunkering down for the night rather than pressing
forward when their shadowy allies could come out to play.

The Great General refused to let the night intimidate him. By
his example he inspired those around him. And it did seem that the
enemy's spooks meant to do little more than yell
"Boo!"

The Great General reorganized the city's defenses,
shifting almost all responsibility into Aridatha Singh's
hands. Then he led Ghopal Singh and the man's kinsmen, armed
with fireball throwers, toward the waterfront conflict.

Ghopal asked, "What're we doing?"

"This is a false peace," Mogaba replied. "They
lost their Captain this afternoon. The trap in the gate worked to
perfection. They lost most of their command staff, too." He
did not explain how he knew that. "They'll need to work
out who's in charge and what they're going to do now.
They might even decide to go away." He shivered, told himself
it was the winter air.

But he knew that Croaker had survived the day. He knew the
Company would not be going away. He knew the succession there had
been assured and the new Captain would attempt to complete the work
of the old.


Chapter 118 

Taglios: A New Administration

I'm not
ready to take over," Suvrin argued.

"And I'm too
old to come back," I countered. "And the only other
qualified person is in a coma." Lady was not, literally, in a
coma, but, practically speaking, the effect was the same. She had
nothing to contribute.

Suvrin grumbled under his breath.

"Sleepy picked you. She thought you could handle it.
She's been giving you opportunities to get a feel for the
job." Sleepy was a big part of the problem. Her death, so
sudden and cruel, had stricken everyone. Most of us were still in a
daze.

I said, "We take too much time here; we'll give the
Children of the Dead too much time to think. We don't want
them looking at how bad the numbers thing has gone since
they've been on our side of the glittering plain."

A moment of self-loathing followed. That was exactly the sort of
thinking I found repugnant in the Company's employers.

Suvrin reflected briefly. "We can't spend time
grieving, can we? We have to go ahead. Or call it off."

"No decision there. Go ahead. I've tried to get
messages to Aridatha Singh. He seems like a good man, willing to
put Taglios first. He might be willing to spare the city some
pain."

"If you can convince him that the Great General
isn't going to eat us alive. The way Tobo tells it, Mogaba
isn't particularly worried."

"He will be. Once we get settled in here I just might take
the girls general hunting."

Suvrin still showed some of that pudgy, baby-fat look he had
always had. He needed to get busy and develop the hardened,
piratical look of a Captain.

He yielded to his hidden desires. "All right. I'll
be the Captain. But I reserve the right to quit."

"Excellent. I'll spread the word, then I'll go
smack Mogaba around." My hatred for the Great General was no
longer virulent, though. It was more like a bad habit these
days.

"I'm the Captain now, right? Completely in
charge?"

"Yeah." Spoken with a twinge of suspicion.

"My first directive as Captain, then, is that you should
stop putting yourself at risk."

"Huh? What? But . . . "

"Croaker, you're the only one left who can keep the
Annals. You're the only one left who can read most of
them.
You didn't finish teaching me and you haven't
trained anyone else. I don't intend to lose our connection
with our heritage. Not at this last stage. Therefore, henceforth,
you're not going anywhere that'll put you at
risk."

"You sonofabitch. You jobbed me. You can't do
that."

"I'm the Captain. Sure I can. I just did. I'll
have you restrained if that's what it takes."

"You won't have to." Because I buy into the
whole Company mystique, like a religion. Because I cannot defy
orders just because I do not like them. Ha-ha. How long would it
take to find a way to weasel around this if I felt a genuine need?
"But I wanted Mogaba."

"We'll catch him for you. Then you can skin him or
whatever you want."

I went out and spread the word that we had a new Captain and
that the officers should attend him. Then I looked for Arkana, who
was off somewhere wasting a valuable part of her life sleeping.

As I stumbled around, shivering because things unseen were
everywhere in the night, I realized that Suvrin, unwittingly, had
given me orders of critical importance. If I kept running around,
getting into the middle of everything, and I got myself killed for
my trouble, more than the Annals would die with me. So would the
little plan I had worked out for fulfilling our commitment to
Shivetya.

I had not shared that with anyone, and would not unless I was
convinced I was dying.

Words never spoken cannot be overheard by sleeping
Goddesses.


Chapter 119 

Taglios:Messenger

Guided and masked by the folk of the hidden realm, Arkana
penetrated Aridatha Singh's headquarters undetected, flying
post and all. The general was alone. He had collapsed of exhaustion
an hour earlier. Solicitous subordinates had put him to bed. They
had left sentries outside his door to keep him from being
disturbed.

Arkana got in through an open window, lying flat upon her post.
She was not especially nervous. She was confident that she could
manage any trouble that came her way, at least for the moments it
would take her to escape.

She had been instructed to flee at the first sign of trouble.
She believed in those instructions with the fervor of a new
convert.

Once inside she dismounted and turned her post so she could get
away without any delay. She kept herself tethered to the post so it
could drag her out even if she was not in the saddle. Even if she
was unconscious. Maybe even if three guys were hanging onto her,
trying to keep her from going.

She found a lamp and lit it. Then she awakened Aridatha
Singh.

The general did not waken quickly. But he did so quietly and
cautiously, understanding that he was in a dangerous situation.
Maybe it was the Unknown Shadows. The sense of their presence was
strong. Because they were all around.

Singh rose into a cross-legged sitting position. He moved
slowly, keeping his hands in sight. He asked his question by
expression alone.

Arkana strained to ignore his looks. She had been
warned . . . She was not an idiot like
Gromovol. "The Captain wants to know if you received the
Annalist's messages.
The Captain wants to know if you're ready to spare Taglios
the agonies of further conflict." She enunciated carefully,
having no desire to be misunderstood.

"Of course I do. But how do I get you people to go
away?" He could not tell much about his visitor because of
the Voroshk clothing.

"Here's an idea. You can have your soldiers lay down
their arms." As one of the Voroshk that sort of statement
directed at an outsider would not have troubled Arkana at all. But
here, tonight, she was just another refugee and freelance. And a
very young one at that, with limited confidence in herself. Maybe
Croaker's confidence was misplaced.

That clever old man. He had set her up so she would risk her
freedom rather than let him down.

That was a characteristic of old men. All old men in her
experience, anyway.

Aridatha said, "There's little I'd like more
than to end this fighting before even one more person gets hurt.
But I have no control when it comes to making the choice between
war and peace. I've undertaken obligations. I've given
my word. Right now Taglios is in the keeping of the Great General.
If he gives the order to stop fighting I'll do so
instantly."

And he said no more. That was as clearly as he could speak. Even
that much clarity troubled his conscience.

"That's your firm response, then?"
Arkana's confidence had begun to swell.

"There is no other position open to me. Your Captain will
understand."

"Your honor could get you killed. And there'd be no
one to sing your praises." Arkana departed before Singh could
figure out what that meant. He thought it sounded like something
foreign that did not translate well.

Aridatha was a little less exhausted than he had been before he
collapsed. But he did not fall asleep again for a long while, and
not because of the potent sense of alien presence still filling his
bedroom. He kept hearing the visitor's last words and
remembering his father. Narayan Singh. A man of high honor, within
his own world. Now without a soul to sing his praises. Unless maybe
his beloved Goddess sang him lullabies within her terrible
dreams.

And Narayan's murderer was still hiding somewhere inside
the remains of the Palace.


Chapter 120 

Taglios: Thi Kim Was Always Here

Mogaba did not
participate much in the fighting. He told Ghopal, "The spirit
is willing but this body is just too damned old and tired.
I'll just sit here and tell you what to do." But mostly
he visited with the white crow, which had begun scouting for him
despite the presence of unfriendly ghosts. The bird could see those
ghosts quite clearly, for it warned him regularly when it was time
to keep his mouth shut.

When Mogaba suggested that the unseen things did not seem to be
helping the invaders much the crow told him that the folk of the
hidden realm were completely devoted to making their master happy.
What little they did contribute they did in response to the will of
their messiah, Tobo, whom they worshipped almost as a god. As Thi
Kim. Which, in the canonical language of the priests who had
created the Unknown Shadows, meant One Who Walks with the Dead.

Startled, the Great General demanded, "You mean to tell me
that Thi Kim isn't Nyueng Bao?"

The title came from a language closely akin to the Nyueng Bao of
four centuries ago.

"So Deathwalker is the half-breed kid?"

Not Deathwalker. One Who Walks with the Dead.

Mogaba was too tired to wonder much about the difference.
"Go find Aridatha Singh," Mogaba said. "I want to
know what he's doing."

The bird was not pleased about being given orders. But it
went.

Mogaba called for Ghopal immediately. He asked,
"What're your feelings toward this city?" He knew
but wanted to hear it from the man's own mouth.

Ghopal shrugged. "I'm not sure I understand. Like
everyone who lives here I love it and I hate it."

"Our enemies have reorganized their chain of command.
Right now they're resting. But they'll resume their
attack while there's yet darkness enough to conceal their
hidden allies. I'm sure now that our forces will survive the
night with more than enough strength left to be able to
counterattack tomorrow. I think we'll be able to hurt them
badly when we do attack but their damned sorcerers will save them
and when night comes again their allies will finish us." The
Great General said all this without having seen any proof that the
Unknown Shadows were capable of doing anything lethal. "And I
think Taglios will suffer a great deal more destruction during that
time. I believe that, eventually, both sides will be so weakened
that, no matter who wins, neither will be able to restrain the
religious factions, nor be able to contain the ambitions of the
gang lords, priests or anyone else likely to take advantage of a
state of disorder. We might even see rioting between the followers
of the different major religions."

Ghopal nodded in the darkness, unseen. As chief Grey managing
unofficial ambition had been his task. He had been particularly
hard on criminal gangs. Mogaba had not dug for details but knew
that something in Ghopal's past drove him to shatter criminal
enterprises.

"What're you trying to say?" Ghopal asked.

"I'm saying that if we continue this war the way we
are now, we can win--probably--but we'll destroy Taglios in the
process. And, even if we do lose, the results will be anarchy and
destruction."

"And?"

"And our enemies don't care. They didn't come
here for the city's benefit. They came to get you and me. And
the Khadidas and the girl. Especially the Daughter of
Night."

Mogaba felt Ghopal's growing suspicion.

The white crow would be back soon, too.

"I think we should walk away, Ghopal. And save Taglios the
agony. The garrisons in the eastern provinces are loyal. We can
continue the struggle from there."

Ghopal was not fooled. Neither did he raise the objection that
they had little hope of success against an enemy seated in the
capital, armed with a crew of wizards and well-supplied with
funds.

Ghopal had known his commander a long time. The Great General
was a stubborn warlord, imbued with no weakness whatsoever. Unless
that was his secret love for his adopted city, that he had revealed
several times lately. Ghopal found he had no trouble believing that
the Great General could walk away rather than let Taglios be
destroyed as a monument to his ego. This Mogaba was not the
arrogant youngster who had held Dejagore against the worst the
Shadowmasters had been able to deliver. "Where would we
go?"

"Agra. Or possibly Mukhra in Ajitsthan."

"Vehdna strongholds, both. A band of heretic Shadar
aren't likely to be welcomed. Particularly if the strife puts
any more strain on religious tolerance."

'That could happen," Mogaba admitted. "Or it
might not."

"Nor have we mentioned families." Family was
extremely important to the Shadar. "I have only my brothers
and cousins. But most of my brothers and cousins have wives and
children."

Mogaba said, "I suppose they could stay here, cut off
their beards and pretend to be people who haven't been
getting much sun. Ghopal, I'm being completely unfair.
I'm putting this all squarely on your shoulders. Stay and
fight? Or go away and spare the city?"

As if to punctuate his remarks a mushroom of fire rose above the
heart of the city. For an instant it resembled a gigantic, glowing
brain. Flying shapes hurtled across its face.

Mogaba said, "That respite is over."


Chapter 121 

Taglios: Sleeping Beauty

It was driving me
crazy, having to hang back over friendly territory, observing an
aerial assault on a cluster of buildings anchoring a defense
stubbornly blocking our advance toward the Palace. We had brought
the knowledge of war to this end of the world and we had taught our
students too well. These Taglians refused to yield even in the face
of sorcery and the Unknown Shadows.

Someone had pointed out that the troops of the City Battalions
were mainly Vehdna and Shadar. Both religions assure swift access
to rivers of wine and acres of eager virgins for the man who falls
in battle. Though originally that only meant warriors who perished
in the name of God.

I wondered what the Vehdna paradise was like for Sleepy.

We had not yet been able to identify her body. The corpses in
that passage had been burned that badly.

"Why don't we go around these guys?" I
wondered. And the answer was, they would not let us. They had an
interlocking defense nicely laid out. The only way past was
through. Or over.

Over we could do.

Over we did go, twenty insanely courageous Children of the Dead
at a time, with a Tobo so tired he was cross-eyed doing the
lifting.

The Unknown Shadows supported their pal from every possible
direction, sometimes so blatantly that I could see them clearly
from where I hovered, doing nothing whatsoever that was useful to
the cause.

I had a wife in the camp outside the city. It had been a while
since I had gone to see how she was doing. That might be considered
doing something useful.

So I did leave my brethren to go visit my wife. While a fight
was going on. A fight that would, no doubt, be completely unique
amongst all the fights ever fought, so that somebody really should
be right there to record every nuance of its unique ebb and
flow.

Lady remained unchanged. She lurked halfway between life and
death. She kept talking to herself in her sleep. What I saw did not
inspire me with hope. What I heard only confused me. Mostly it was
incoherent. Such individual words as were recognizable did not fall
together at all sensibly.

A few minutes of that reminded me why I always resisted visiting
till I had forgotten the despair a visit inspired.


Chapter 122 

Taglios: Unknown Shadows

Only two unmarried
second-cousins of Ghopal chose to leave the city with the Great
General and the commander of the Greys. Because they had families
the rest all chose to take their chances with the invaders.

Mogaba understood. In the coming confusion scores of his allies
would be finding new looks, new races to be, while the conquerers
scoured the city for enemies. Many would somehow fail ever to have
heard of the Greys, let alone have contributed to that
organization's criminal oppressions.

"Here," Mogaba said, leading the way out onto an
ancient, rickety dock. "This one will do." He indicated
an eighteen-foot boat that, from its aroma, had been bringing in
fish since sometime early in the last century.

Mogaba invited himself aboard. Ghopal and the others followed
warily. Shadar and large bodies of water had a relationship
somewhat like that between cats and bathtubs. Mogaba said,
"Untie those ropes. You really do know how to row,
don't you?" Ghopal had made the claim.

Singh grunted. "But not competitively."

To Mogaba's astonishment they stole the boat without a
challenge. He was amazed that a vessel so large had been
untenanted. There should have been at least one family aboard. But
tonight the entire waterfront was silent and unpopulated, as though
the riverside nights were too terrible to endure.

Mogaba's internal struggle waxed and waned. He reminded
himself that it was fast becoming too late to change his mind, to
give in to his prideful, arrogant side. That weakness had brought
about these terrible end days. How different his life and the world
would have been had he been able to control his interior demons
during the siege of Dejagore.

He would hardly be a hated and lonely old man whose memories
were all of serving faithfully and well a parade of despicable
masters.

The white crow found them while they were trying to work out the
mechanics of raising the boat's lateen sail. There was a good
breeze blowing, capable of carrying them up the river far more
swiftly than could their incompetent rowing.

The bird settled in the rigging. "What are you doing? I
did not give you permission to flee. Why are you running away? No
battle has been lost."

The Shadar gawked. Mogaba thumped himself on the chest.
"No. A great war has been won. Here. At last. Now I go
somewhere where I will do no more harm anymore forever."

Ghopal looked from him to the crow and back, gradually gaining
understanding of both. He grew increasingly agitated and afraid as
he did so.

The bird was capable of a range of voices, though it was only a
haunted crow. "Turn this vessel shoreward. Now. I will
tolerate no disobedience."

"You hold no terror for me anymore, old whore,"
Mogaba replied. "You hold no power over me. I won't be
your toy or cats-paw tonight or ever again."

"You have no idea how much you will regret this. I
won't be imprisoned forever. You will be the first chore on
my list when I return. Ghopal Singh. Turn this disgusting tub
around . . . awk!"

Ghopal had whacked the bird with the flat of his oar. Flailing,
losing feathers, shrieking, it flung from the rigging into the
fetid, muddy river. The retiring commander of the Greys observed,
"That bird has an amazingly fowl vocabulary." He
grinned. Then he began digging through the bag he had carried
aboard. He really needed a sip of wine. His kinsmen scowled.
"Glower all you want, you magpies! I'm my own man
now!"

The tenor of the bird's incessant natter changed suddenly,
becoming pure corvine terror. It flapped in panic as the surface of
the river lifted it up.

The rising water tilted the boat precariously. Ghopal lost his
grasp on his bottle. One of his cousins took a wild swing with his
oar, swatting a gallon of water out of the thing taking form. His
effort had no enduring effect.

"Holy shit!" Ghopal said from flat on his back.
"What the hell is that?" He was staring over
Mogaba's shoulder.

A thing loomed against the light of fires burning in the city. A
thing resembling a huge duck capable of a grin filled with wicked,
glistening teeth. And the thing was not alone.

"Oh, man," one of Ghopal's cousins sighed.
"They're all around us. What are they?"

Mogaba sighed himself. He did not say that the monsters were not
the sort of things people saw and lived to describe.


Chapter 123 

Taglios: Crow Talk

Aridatha Singh had
just gotten back to sleep when fiery pain pierced the back of his
right hand. He leapt up and flung his arm out. He thought his lamp
had somehow spilled burning oil and feared his cot would be on
fire. But the lamp was not burning.

Not fire. Something had bitten him, then. Or maybe clawed him.
And he had thrown it across the room, where it was struggling
feebly and making incoherent chicken noises. Those people were
attacking him directly now? He shouted for the sentries.

Once light filled the room he discovered that his visitor was an
albino crow. One of the men threw a blanket over the bird and
wrapped it up. Another examined Aridatha's hand.
"That's one ragged looking critter, General. You might
want to see a physician. It might be diseased."

"Send for soap and hot water . . . It
doesn't look like the skin is broken
much . . . What is that?"

The blanket with the bird inside had begun talking.

"It's talking," the soldier said, so utterly
amazed that he could do nothing but state the obvious.

"Seal the window. Close the door. Get yourselves ready to
hit it with something when we turn it loose." He recalled
that one of the Company chieftains sometimes carried ravens on his
shoulders. And one of those was white.

Escape was no longer an option for the bird. Aridatha directed,
"Turn it loose now."

The crow looked like someone had tried to drown it, then had
decided to pluck it featherless instead. It was in terrible
shape.

The bedraggled beast cocked its head right, left, surveying the
chamber. It made an obvious effort to put aside its anger, to
collect its pride and dignity.

Aridatha did not think this was the raven he had seen with that
man Croaker. This one seemed smaller, yet more substantial.

The bird studied Singh first with one eye, then with the other.
Then it eyed the sentries. It seemed to be awaiting something.

"You have something to say, say it," Aridatha
suggested.

"Send them out."

"I don't think so." He motioned two soldiers
into positions where they would be better able to swat the
crow.

"I am not accustomed
to . . . "

"Nor am I in the habit of taking back chat from birds. I
assume you bring a message. Deliver it. Or I'll wring your
neck and go on about my business."

"I fear you will live to regret this, Aridatha
Singh."

In that moment, with the bird's voice changing, Singh
understood that he was in touch with the Protector. But her enemies
had buried her beneath the glittering plain. Had they not? "I
await your message. If it's just a threat I'll have
Vasudha step on your head."

"Very well. Until the day, Aridatha Singh. Aridatha Singh,
you are now my viceroy in Taglios. Mogaba and Ghopal are no more. I
will instruct you as to what steps to
take . . . ."

"Excuse me. The Great General and General Singh have been
killed?"

"They tried to do something foolish. For their trouble the
enemy's shadow creatures destroyed them. Which elevates you
to . . . "

Aridatha turned his back on the crow. "Jitendra. Get that
word out. I want every company to disengage. The only exception is
to be where the enemy won't let them. And get the word across
the lines that I'm prepared to discuss terms."

The white crow flew into a cursing rage.

"Throw the blanket on that thing again, Vasudha. We may
have some use for it later but I don't want to listen to its
nagging now."

"You could get you a wife if you needed that,
General."


Chapter 124 

Taglios: The Sandbar

Already there were
stories on the street about how the Great General had sacrificed
himself in order to void the strictures of all the oaths and vows
binding him and his allies. Because he had wanted to spare the city
further devastation by the invading rebels and outlanders. Amazing.
We had just started taking charge and already people were nostalgic
for the good old days of the Protectorate.

Hard to blame them, I suppose. It was a generation ago that the
Prahbrindrah Drah last saw the inside of his capital city.

Let them feel however they wanted. As long as they stayed out of
my way.

Tobo and I drifted above the Palace, studying the ruin. Smoke
still found its way out of the rock pile. Every few hours a little
more caved in. A third had collapsed already.
That third included almost all of the occupied modern sector.
Maybe the abandoned parts had been constructed from sterner stuff.
They had survived generations of neglect.

Even during the worst fighting Aridatha had used volunteers from
the City Battalions to keep sifting the ruins for survivors to
rescue and bodies to deliver to distraught relatives. He continued
in that role, now reinforced by units formerly committed to the
fighting. Elsewhere, whole battalions now engaged the more stubborn
fires instead of invaders.

I asked Tobo, "You really think they're still in
there somewhere?" I meant Booboo and Goblin.

"I know they are. The hidden folk have seen them. They
just can't remember how to get to them."

"Strange as it may seem, I need them out of there alive.
Without them I can't keep my promise to Shivetya."

Tobo grunted. I had not included him in my planning. In fact,
the inner circle still consisted of a council of one. Me. And I
intended to keep it that way. Nothing spoken, nothing betrayed.

"I think Arkana's in love." Below, the Voroshk
girl had come up with another excuse to consult Aridatha Singh.

Tobo grunted again. He was better than he had been but victory
had given him no satisfaction. He would be a long time getting over
the loss of his mom and dad.

I asked, "Have you found any trace of Mogaba or Ghopal
Singh?" Aridatha said they were dead. He claimed to have been
told so by the white crow--not an entirely reliable witness.

The boy studied me before responding. "They drowned. While
trying to escape upriver. By boat. Evidently the boat
capsized."

"I see."

My tone made him stare at me intently. I could not see his
expression, of course. The Voroshk apparel concealed that. And mine
masked my features. We continued to dress up because some people
did not approve of our conquest. Incidents abounded.

Mostly, though, Taglios had heaved a huge collective sigh and
began getting on with the business of life. Thus far there had been
almost no retribution against those who had served the displaced
regime. Most people seemed of the opinion that the Greys had done
more good than harm, since they had repressed criminal behavior
with a ferocity greater than they had shown to enemies of the Great
General and the Protector.

In general, the masses of people were entirely indifferent to
who ruled Taglios and its dependencies. The who seldom touched
their lives deeply, one way or another.

The human species never ceases to amaze me. I would have bet
more people would have cared a lot more. But from the inside
nothing is ever what it looks like from without.

R<span class="smallcaps" >ajadharma graffiti continued to appear. Some folks are never
satisfied. T<span class="smallcaps" >hi kim is here was turning up now, too. I had not
pressed the kid on that. He did not want to talk about it.

I would let it ride even though that mystery was not yet solved
to my satisfaction. There had to be more to his relationship with
the Unknown Shadows than had become obvious so far.

I left the boy and circled the Palace. Our men had replaced the
City Battalions on that perimeter. They made a colorful line. City
troops were clearing rubble, particularly in areas where
Tobo's friends believed people were trapped. A number
remained alive, caught inside interior rooms that had not
collapsed. Now thirst was their implacable enemy.

All was going as it should. It seemed. But I was not
comfortable. I had a sense of there being a wrongness somewhere.
Intuition. Based upon subconscious cues.

I drifted away from the Palace, waving in passing to Shukrat,
who just had to see Tobo after having completed a courier run to
the approaching Prahbrindrah Drah and
Radisha. Once out of sight I put on speed and headed for the
river.

I started at the downstream end of the waterfront. I drifted
upstream. The boats were out. As they would have been had the
fighting still been under way. I asked a few questions of terrified
fishermen, not at all sure what I might find. The current had had
ample time to carry bodies and wreckage down to the delta
swamps.

Or perhaps not.

There is a miles-long sandbar just off the curve of the north
bank. It has been there so long that it is an island now, with
grass on its flanks, brush above that and trees along its highest
parts. The channel on its north side is narrow, shallow and choked
with mud. An overturned boat lay in the mouth of that channel. One
dead man sprawled in the mud. A dozen Taglians clad only in
loincloths were trying to right the boat preparatory to dragging it
off the bar. None of those men showed the least interest in the
corpse. But it was obviously Shadar and they were all Gunni.

The scavengers had a definite interest in not being anywhere
around when people came swooping out of the sky in a billowing
black cloud. A couple jumped into the channel and swam for the
north bank. Others ran into the growth on the island's spine.
A few tried to make it back to the boat that had brought them. It
had beached a hundred yards down the bar.

The dead Shadar appeared to have been an officer of the Greys. I
discovered a second corpse underneath the boat, also Shadar. There
were disturbed crows in and above the nearby trees, which was
interesting because we saw so few of those birds anymore.

I made a couple of lazy passes overhead, to finish scaring the
birds away, before dropping carefully through the branches.

Mogaba was recognizable only because of the unique color of the
bits of skin left to him. Ghopal Singh I identified only by
deduction. They had been tortured. Terribly, and for a long time.
Mogaba maybe for days. His corpse was not that old.

I slid downstream behind the island and eventually rejoined my
own people. I searched out Arkana. "We need to talk, adopted
daughter." I jerked a thumb. Somewhere up high, in the
brilliant noonday sun.

She picked up on my concern. She drove upward a thousand feet,
tending south, as though we were going to check on the Prahbrindrah
Drah's progress. In fact, a sizable dust cloud could be seen
to the south.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I think Tobo may be out of control. Or so close to it as
makes no difference. If we're not careful we might all be
sorry his mother isn't here to scold him. And that Sleepy and
Murgen are gone. He may be a grown man but he still needs
direction." I told her what I had found on the sandbar.

"Why tell me? You don't let anybody in on anything,
Pop."

"Because I've seen you making moon eyes at General
Singh. And he was a partner with the Great General and Ghopal
Singh. If Tobo's really unhinged he might go after Aridatha
next."

"Why do you blame Tobo?"

I led her through my reasoning, which relied heavily on my
assessment of the character of the Great General. "Mogaba
knew Aridatha wanted to spare Taglios from the fighting. He wanted
that himself. He couldn't surrender, though. And
Aridatha's sense of honor wouldn't let him desert
Mogaba. So Mogaba decided to arrange it so Aridatha wouldn't
be encumbered. And Tobo got him."

"You didn't say why you blame Tobo."

"Because only Tobo could've known what Mogaba was
doing and where he would be doing it. There was something badly
wrong on the river that night. All the waterfront people felt it
and ran off to hide in the city."

"All right. Suppose it's true. What're you
going to do?"

"I just did it. I told you to be careful. And now
I'm going to see if my wife's gotten any better since
this morning." I knew Lady would not have done so. I had
begun to lose hope for her.


Chapter 125 

Taglios: An Afternoon Off

I took Lady out
for a picnic. With a little help from my adopted daughters. In the
vain hope that some sunlight and fresh air would make a difference
when even Tobo's best effort could not shake the enchantment
holding her. According to the boy wizard I was supposed to consider
myself lucky. If she had not been Lady, had been some ordinary
person, she would have been long dead. He assured me this was not
the spell that had claimed Sedvod and still gripped Soulcatcher. I
could not see any obvious difference--except that Lady was getting
no worse.

His best advice was to take my questions to the perpetrator once
we found him.

The girls left me alone with my honey. I held her hand and
rambled on about a thousand things: recollections, current affairs,
hopes. I shared my suspicions and concerns about Tobo, too, which
might have been dangerous since I had no idea what might be
listening.

Nothing I did helped her even a little, nor did it seem to do me
any good. I fought the good fight against despair.

A squeaky clean, thoroughly polished corporal from Hsien trotted
up. "Captain's compliments, sir, and could you come to
the Palace? They think they may have located the Khadidas and the
Daughter of Night."

"Damn! Yes. I'll be there as soon as I can. Tell
them not to mess with anything. Tell them to be very careful. Those
two are extremely dangerous."

They knew that, of course. And Tobo would be right there to
remind them. But repetition never hurts. Not when it helps get you
through the deadly times.

Shukrat and Arkana came running. "What's up?"
Shukrat asked.

As I explained I reflected on how much better the girls were
getting along. They seemed to have shed the conflicts they had
brought into Captivity.

As we three got Lady ready to go back to my tent I asked Arkana,
"Will you want to go home someday?"

"What?"

"Home. Where you were born. The world I used to call
Khatovar. Do you want to go back? I think I could make it
happen."

"But it's all destroyed."

"Not really. The First Father and Nashun the Researcher
said so, but that was just to excuse their cowardice."

"I'm not sure I want to believe that."

"Good. Excellent. That's the way I want my kids to
be. Skeptical. That's the truth according to Shivetya. And
I'm not a hundred percent sure of our demonic friend
myself."

"Why didn't you ask me if I want to go?"
Shukrat demanded.

"Because you don't want to go. You just want to be
where Tobo is."

"That isn't exactly a secret. It isn't a
crime, either. But I'm not bereft of my senses. You'll
sure never see me do some die-for-love kind of thing. If you guys
do go, tell me. I'll decide what I want to do
then."


Chapter 126 

Taglios: Royal Return

I did not make it
to the Palace. Shukrat beat me there and came right back with
instructions to head for the South Gate. The Prahbrindrah Drah was
about to arrive and Suvrin wanted somebody there to greet the man
we had been touting as the city's legitimate ruler.

Per instructions I rounded up a few men from the City
Battalions, along with a handful of their officers, and off I went,
grumbling all the way. I expected the Prince's home-coming
would be a huge disappointment for him and his sister.

Taglios did not care.

I told several people to spread the word, to try to get
something going.

That did very little good. The route inward from the gate was
never more than sparsely populated with spectators and the rare
feeble cheer we did hear came from really old people.

I hate to waste pomp and pageantry. Not that we did put much on.
Aridatha got to bring out his marching band, a little late. Never
would have been better. They were terrible. And not just because
what passes for music here is so alien. I have spent half my life
in this end of the world. I asked Singh, "Those guys practice
much?"

"They've been too busy being soldiers."

Aridatha had an attitude I appreciated. Each one of his men was
expected to be a soldier first, and whatever else secondarily.

Singh said, "I do have to tell you, this Prince
doesn't look very impressive. I hope he's a better
ruler than he is a showman."

I was no longer sure bringing the Prince back would be good for
Taglios, myself. There had been big changes in the city and bigger
changes in the man. They might have nothing in common anymore.

I shrugged. "He's old. If he hasn't got what
Taglios needs Taglios won't have to put up with him for
long."

In the old days the Prince and I had gotten along well. Until he
had turned on us. As an officer in my command he had shown a hunger
for learning and a lust for doing the best thing. So I told him
straightaway, when we met inside the South Gate, that his first
order of business, now that he was back in business, had to be the
establishment of a generally acceptable line of succession.
Otherwise chaos would follow his demise.

"Rajadharma, old buddy. Let's get the job
done."

My remarks earned me a tired growl and not much more. The Prince
seemed used up and worn out. His sister showed more spark but had a
lot more years on her because she had not shared the stasis of the
Captivity with her brother. Chances were, nowadays, that she would
go first, despite being the younger.

She could not be titular ruler, anyway. When she did exercise
the power, during all those years, there had been a pretense of a
regency, in place until the legitimate ruler could resume control.
Because the Prahbrindrah Drah was still alive somewhere. Neither
custom nor law allowed a woman to rule in her own right.

Arkana came to meet me with the news. "They've
definitely found the Khadidas and the Daughter of Night,
Pop." She was a willing participant in that charade now and,
more and more, helping herself to a job as my personal assistant.
Now, if I could just teach her written
Taglian . . . I suspect the frequency with
which I crossed the path of Aridatha Singh had something to do with
all that. Singh, I noted, had not failed to recognize what a tasty
morsel my little girl was, either, though Voroshk protective
apparel seldom flattered.

Tobo remained patient enough to wait until I reached the Palace.
Barely. And only out of impatient courtesy, because that was my
real daughter and my former friend in there.

My real daughter. A grown woman, whom I had never seen. Arkana,
known less than a year, was more daughter to me in life. And
Narayan Singh was more a father to Booboo.

Aridatha was there and interested. I wondered why. Then I
recalled that he had seen Booboo a few times before and those women
have a way of getting under your skin without ever trying.

It did not occur to me that he might be thinking more about the
Khadidas.

At first the Prince was put out by everyone's sudden loss
of interest in him . . . then he got a good
look at what had happened to the Palace.

He moaned aloud, a textbook cry of anguish. He managed some
respectable gnashing of teeth.

Suvrin stepped in. The little pudgeball could be weasel-slick
handling people when he wanted. Which might be the ideal leadership
skill for the times. I turned to Arkana, gave her special
instructions. She flew off to my rooms in the building we had taken
for our headquarters. Once upon a time it had been a Greys
barracks.

Most of the Greys have vanished. We all pretended not to notice
that there are a disproportionate number of Shadar in the City
Battalions, say compared to when we were duking it out with them in
the streets.

Aridatha was sharing his own good fortune. Though there was less
popular inclination toward vengeance than I had expected. And that
little focused entirely on individuals.

The Radisha Drah also let out a disconsolate wail on discovering
the state of the Palace. She and her brother remained still and
silent for minutes. Then she slew the silence with another cry of
pain. I told Suvrin, "I hope they don't decide that
this is all our fault and they just have to get even." I did
not think they would be that stupid, after having survived what
they had suffered for having turned on us before, but with royalty
you never know. They think differently than real people. The real
world never quite seems to reach them.

Smoke still trickled out of the ruins, here and there. While we
watched a small avalanche of weakened masonry cascaded down.

The Prince observed, "The stonework must have suffered
more than we thought during the earthquake."

"Hunh?" That had happened so long ago that I had
forgotten it. "You're probably right. Plus the
Protector never wasted a copper on maintenance while she was in
charge." I approached Tobo, who continued to prance about
impatiently. "Where are my treasures?"

As I asked, Arkana swooped down, black cloth popping and
crackling in the wind. She carried One-Eye's spear and his
ugly old hat. The hat still smelled of the ugly old man who had
worn it.

"Right there where the red flag is."

Poles with colored streamers indicated points where the Unknown
Shadows had detected something human under the rubble. There were
just two red ribbons. The rest were black. There would be no rush
to dig there. The red streamer not indicated by Tobo was the focus
of frenzied activity.

I asked, "What's over there?"

"Ten to twelve people trapped in one of the treasury
strong rooms. We're sending water and soup down through
bamboo pipes. They'll be all right."

"Uhm." I could imagine the nightmares they would
suffer for the rest of their lives. "Just hang onto that
stuff," I told Arkana. I studied the stone around the base of
the red-streamer pole. "Tobo, are they conscious down
there?"

"I don't think so."

"I'd hate to think they're just waiting to do
something obnoxious when we dig them out."

He said, "We can just leave them there. Without water
they'll die."

"It's a solution." But not one that interested
me. Only Booboo would really suffer. "Suvrin, may I?"
When he nodded I beckoned some men who were standing around
awaiting instructions. If the girl was aware I was sure we would
get a dose of "love me" real quick. Which meant only
people in Voroshk clothing should do the final digging.

The Khadidas and Daughter of Night had crawled into a corner of
their hiding place when the collapse came. The walls had held up
just enough. But they had not had time to collect food and
water.

Sadly, my baby did have a lamp and supplies and did make a
valiant attempt to keep right on enscribing the Books of the Dead,
perhaps in hope of lending Kina enough strength to save her. She
could not have had much hope otherwise.

I thought a lot about what Booboo had been through in her near
quarter century. About what had been done to her and what she
believed she was. The loving part of me thought it might be a
priceless mercy if she was saved the cruelty of reawakening.

It never got beyond being a notion. No argument I could present
would ever convince Lady that that was appropriate. She wanted a
little Lady so badly.

I discovered the Radisha beside me. It was amazing how much she
had aged. She even carried a cane. "It's true, you
know," she said in a weary voice.

"What's that?" Though I knew what she was
going to say.

"The coming of the Black Company did mean the end of
Taglios. Just not the way we imagined."

"All we ever wanted was to pass on through."

She nodded, keeping her bitterness contained.

"You think we were hard on Taglios? Consider how happy the
Shadowmasters must be."

"But you haven't finished with Taglios," the
Prahbrindrah Drah observed, joining us. "I've just
heard what happened to Lady. How is she?"

"Stable." He was another of those men who had been
infatuated with my wife at one time. "And you're right.
In a way. As long as people try to push us around people get hurt.
But that shouldn't last much longer. We're close to
where we have to go." I stepped forward, spoke to the men
digging, first in the language of the Children of the Dead, then in
Taglian. "We're getting close. Hold up till those of us
who are protected can help. Tobo! Girls. They're almost
through over here."

Not far off more interior brickwork surrendered to the seduction
of gravity.


Chapter 127 

Taglios: And My Baby

The soldiers
created a precarious opening through which someone might wriggle. I
asked for a lantern, meaning to be first inside, but Tobo seized it
when it arrived. I did not argue. He was better equipped than
I.

Seconds after the boy began to duckwalk a blast of urine-colored
light ripped through the opening. It glanced off Tobo, hit a block
of stone, scattered. It was a potent blast. Stone melted. And one
stray ricochet found the Prahbrindrah Drah.

The results were ugly. And instantly fatal.

"That was it," Tobo called back, unaware of the
disaster. "That's all he had. He's out of it now.
Croaker, help me drag them out."

The Radisha began to wail.

The boy recognized the scope of the disaster immediately. The
Taglian empire was, as of this moment, without an acceptable
helmsman. Was without legitimate direction. "It'll have
to wait a minute," I said. "The Prince is hurt. I want
to get him to medical care right now." Maybe, just one more
time, we could pretend the supreme authority was fine but staying
out of sight. Soulcatcher got away with it. The Great General got
away with it. Why not my own band of opportunists?

I feared there had been too many witnesses, though Suvrin and
Aridatha took up the pretense immediately and the Radisha herself
joined me after only a few heartbeats. She put on a creditable show
of threatening me with serious unpleasantness if her brother
happened to die.

Now aware that political disaster threatened, Tobo launched some
glitzy distraction. To which I paid little attention because I was
desperate to get the Prince out of the public eye. There was a lot
of flash behind me, and changing colors playing through the ruins.
A big bunch of masonry went down. And Shukrat began helping Tobo
pull the Khadidas out of the ground.

Aridatha's men hauled the Prince's litter away. The
prince seen to, Arkana and I began to ease through the rubble
toward the hole. I beckoned more stretcher-bearers. The thing being
dragged into the light did not look dangerous. It looked like an
old, worn-out version of a Goblin who was already dead.

"You want these now?" Arkana asked.

"Hang on
just another minute. Get him over here, guys. On the stretcher.
Easy. Easy! Tobo. Can you wake him up? Just for a second? Long
enough for him to recognize me and what I'm doing?"

"Probably. If you want to risk it." There was a
choke in the boy's voice. He looked at the spear and the ugly
hat and wanted to believe that I had a way to reach the Goblin
trapped inside the Khadidas. The Goblin who was always like an
uncle to him.

"Oh, shit!" I said. "Wait! Wait!"

"What?"

"I just had an ugly thought. About how Kina might react
through Lady if we drive the devil out of Goblin."

Tobo sucked in a bucket of air, released it. "I
don't see how she could work that. But why take a chance? She
is the Mother of Deception. Shuke, honey, do me a favor. Get the
small carpet from my room. Just fold it up and bring it back.
We'll use that to haul them away."

Shukrat jumped onto her post and zipped away. While he waited
Tobo had an awning erected to keep potential rain off Goblin, then
snaked back into the hole. He did not ask for help so I stood back
with Aridatha and Arkana, insides turning over, awaiting my first
glimpse of Booboo.

I asked Singh, "The fires under the rubble never go out.
What the hell keeps burning?"

"Five hundred years worth of archives. Everything that
belonged to the Inspector General of the Records. It'll make
for interesting times when we try to put things back
together."

Shukrat, the little darling, obviously knew her way around
Tobo's quarters. She was back with a small, folded flying
carpet before the kid himself poked his head back out of the hole.
With Arkana's help she snapped the frame into position,
stretched the fabric taut.

Arkana finally found nerve enough to speak to Aridatha directly,
in a nonbusiness capacity. "You think it's going to
rain?"

You could see she wanted to melt like a slug freshly sprinkled
with salt. All that work to find the nerve to speak and something
that feeble was all she could get out. When fat raindrops had begun
plunking down at random intervals nearly a minute before.

She was just a kid.

They had the Khadidas on the flying carpet now. And a couple of
soldiers, one Taglian and one from Hsien, had hold of a pair of
ankles.

"You all right, Pop?" Arkana asked, holding onto my
left arm.

"She looks just like Lady did the first time we
met." In a time of terror. There was terror here, now, but of
an entirely different sort.

"Then your wife must have had some filthy hygiene habits
in her younger days."

"Ah, but she was eager to learn. Tobo, can you make sure
Booboo doesn't wake up until I want her to?" I did not
want to have to cope with her witchery. "And let's keep
these two away from each other from now on. We don't need
them getting their heads together."

"We don't need them, period," someone
muttered. Shukrat, I realized. Shukrat did not like the way Tobo
kept eyeballing the Daughter of Night.

Nor did my other adopted offspring particularly approve of the
contemplative stares of Aridatha Singh.

Tobo called, "Croaker, you want to wake up yourself? Just
for a minute? So you can take a look at her? See if
anything's missing or broken?"

One of the city soldiers told another that everything looked
just fine to him. A little soap and some clean
clothes . . . 

I never thought I would be a father and have to pretend not to
hear such remarks.

The man was right. She was a beautiful child. Exactly like her
mother. And like Lady's, most of her beauty lay right on the
surface. I had to remind myself not to be taken in by what I saw or
by what I wanted to feel. My emotions would not be trustworthy.
They might not be my own. The Mother of Deceit had not left the
game.

I knelt beside my daughter. My emotions were engaged indeed. I
felt a thousand years old and utterly powerless. It took a major
application of will to touch her.

Her skin felt cold.

In moments I reported, "She's got lots of bruises
and scrapes but there isn't any serious damage. Nothing
permanent. She is dehydrated." She shook each time I touched
her, as though I was massaging her with pieces of ice.
"She'll recover, if we take care of her. Put her in
with Lady."

Tobo said, "You'll need somebody to stay with her.
Somebody who can control her."

"I will."

"I will."

Shukrat and Arkana both volunteered.

Well. Were they that concerned about competition from a beat-up,
unconscious woman who knew absolutely nothing about men?

I would bet Tobo was grinning when he said, "All right,
ladies. Work yourselves out a schedule. Croaker, what do you plan
to do about Goblin?"

Suvrin seemed a little irked. Events were going forward without
consulting the new Captain of the Black Company. But in matters
concerning Booboo and the Khadidas he was no expert.

"Stash him. I'll wait till I'm well-rested to
deal with him. Meantime, we need somebody to crawl into that hole
and collect up all of Booboo's scribblings. Somebody from
Hsien, preferably. Somebody illiterate. We'll take no chance
anybody will read that stuff. I'll take care of it. But right
now I'm going to go take a nap. I'm totally
exhausted."


Chapter 128 

Taglios: Another Great General

I was worried. I
pranced from foot to foot like a little boy at a wedding who really
needed to pee. It was another day and I still had not gotten
started with Booboo and the Khadidas. Giving them and their
Goddess any time at all was bound to lead to mischief.

But I had more immediate responsibilities. The fighting was
over. Our obligation to the dead had to be handled now. And a huge
city, with many dead of its own, had to be kept on a tight rein.
Recent disasters would encourage plotters and conspirators.

The Children of the Dead knew how to put on a memorial for
fallen comrades. Deep-voiced drums muttered and grumbled. Horns
conjured forth the mood and gloom of a chilly, rainy morning
despite a bright, cloudless winter sky. The soldiers paraded in all
their brilliant colors, with all their thousands of banners. The
locals were suitably impressed. We sent Sleepy off in more style
than she could have hoped for while she lived. We said our
good-byes to a great many people.

Then we stood back and rendered appropriate honors as Aridatha
Singh directed equally large, if not nearly so dramatic, ceremonies
honoring those who had fallen on behalf of the Protectorate. And
when that was done we joined the local soldiers and the most
important men of the city in honoring the Prahbrindrah Drah.

His funeral was the grandest I ever attended. I developed the
distinct impression that all those leading men had gathered,
however, to eyeball one another suspiciously rather than to mourn
the passing of a ruler none had seen since they were young.

Aridatha Singh was popular with these men. Because Aridatha
Singh had gathered to himself the loyalties of the survivors of the
Second Territorial Division, the Greys, and the commanders of the
rural garrisons nearest the city. Aridatha Singh had become the
most powerful man in the Taglian Territories, despite having done
little to acquire that power--except to be competent and a nice
guy.

They say that when the hour comes, so will the man. Sometimes
fate will even conspire to put a competent, honest man in the right
place at the right time. Almost overnight the graffiti began giving
Aridatha Mogaba's old title, Great General.

Now, if he could just manage to get by without antagonizing the
occupiers.

I tried to keep an eye on Tobo but that was difficult with a kid
so talented.


Chapter 129 

Taglios: Open Tomb, Open Eyes

The hours of
ceremony ground me down. I wanted to put myself away for another
long nap. But I refused to give the Queen of Darkness any further
respite.

"These are them," Arkana told me in perfectly
colloquial bad Taglian, indicating eight bitty wooden kegs.
"Eight different men took turns crawling in there and
stuffing papers--and everything else they could find--into a keg.
Which I had sealed up as soon as the man came out. By an illiterate
cooper."

"You are a treasure indeed, daughter dear. Gentlemen,
let's build us a bonfire." I had brought a couple of
carts loaded with wood purchased from a wood seller whose usual
customers were people who needed firewood for funeral ghats. I had
been surprised to find he had any stock left, considering recent
events.

The gentlemen I spoke to all hailed from Hsien. They knew only
that the eight kegs contained the hopes of life of a monster more
blackhearted than the legendary Shadowmasters who had tortured the
Land of Unknown Shadows. And that was all they needed to know.

The pyre went up quickly, the kegs scattered throughout it. A
fraction of me bemoaned the fate of the latest incarnation of the
Books of the Dead. I hate seeing any book destroyed. But I did not
interfere when the oil splashed and the fireballs zipped in.

My reluctance might be Kina trying to manipulate me. I stayed
there until I was confident that my natural daughter's
life's work had been consumed completely by the flames. In
some myths Hagna, god of fire, is Kina's mortal enemy. In
others, when she is in her Destroyer avatar, he is her ally.

The more I am exposed to the Gunni pantheon the more confused I
become.

"What task now?" I wondered aloud. Everyone but
Arkana and a few curious street kids, the near-feral ones called
jengali, had moved along. A ragged, bemused white crow had been
hanging around, too, but it had nothing to say. It had been doing a
lot of sticking close and keeping its beak shut lately.

"Time to wake somebody up, Pop. Your wife, your daughter
or the Khadidas."

I surveyed the workmen clearing rubble. Most were civilians now,
supervised by soldiers there just to keep them from stealing any
treasures they unearthed.

The masonry had stopped collapsing. The fires had burned out.
The popular consensus was that an all-new palace should be erected,
once the old structures had been cleared away.

I could not imagine what treasures and surprises might surface
if they did demolish and remove the whole rambling monster. No one
ever knew the palace in its entirety. No one but a long-dead wizard
named Smoke.

The death pyre of the Books of the Dead attracted more jengali,
who wanted to take advantage of the warmth.

Shukrat glowered at Arkana. Seemed Arkana was not doing her
share of Booboo watching. And Arkana did not care if Shukrat was
pissed off.

I noticed a change in Lady. She did not seem to be in a sort of
coma anymore. She seemed to be in a normal but deep sleep. I threw
open a window. I am a firm believer in the health benefits of fresh
air. The scruffy white crow appeared almost immediately. I asked,
"How long has this been going on?" I had my back to
Booboo. Cleaned and groomed and dressed in decent clothing she was
quite the sleeping beauty. I tried not to look at her long. Seeing
her still ripped at my heart.

"What?" Shukrat asked. She stuck her tongue out at
Arkana.

"The snoring. Lady didn't snore before." I
meant since she had fallen under the spell. Before, she had snored
for as long as I had been sleeping with her. Though she refused to
believe it.

Shukrat said, "She started right after we brought the
Daughter of Night in. I didn't think anything about
it."

"No reason you should."

Arkana nodded. "I never noticed her not
snoring."

The white crow chuckled from the window sill. I asked,
"Did she snore when she was a kid?"

The crow made a noise. The girls looked at me, then at the bird.
No dummies, they realized right away that it was not just an albino
with bad personal habits. Being sorceresses they soon understood
that it was a genuine crow, too, rather than some creature whose
usual form was no form, and out of sight.

"Assuming she is sleeping, she's been there a long
time. You'd think she would've wakened on her
own." I touched my wife gently. She did not respond. I shook
her, much less tenderly. She groaned, muttered, rolled onto her
side, pulled her knees up. I said, "Don't give me that
stuff. It's time to get up."

The girls smiled. They felt my relief.

She was just sleeping now, even if that had been going on for a
long time and might go on for a while more.

"Come on, woman! We've got work to do. You've
had enough sleep for ten people."

"She's sure been getting my share."

Lady cracked an eyelid. At the same time she muttered something
incoherent that sounded suspiciously like one of her traditional
early morning threats.

I said, "All that rest hasn't improved her
disposition any. I'll remember this next time she claims lack
of sleep is why she's cranky."

"You want me to dump a bucket of cold water on her?"
Arkana asked. She could be a presumptuous little witch.

"She does need a bath."

Lady growled again, but this time in a lame attempt to be
cheerful.

I told her, "Don't even try to be nice." The
way the human body works, returning from a coma in a good humor is
flat impossible.

Her throat was dry and tight. After we dealt with that, she
asked, "Where are we? How long was I down this
time?"

I had lost track.

"Fifteen days? At least. Probably more," Shukrat
said. "You were sleeping for all of us. We were all too
busy."

Lady examined her surroundings. She knew she had not been here
before. She could not see Booboo from where she sat.

I told her, "The war is over. We won. Sort of. Aridatha
Singh surrendered. We offered them good terms."

Lady grunted, mind not working swiftly. "Mogaba let him do
that?"

"The Great General isn't with us anymore."

"I need to talk to you about that, Pop," Shukrat
said. "I went out to that sandbar."

I signed her to silence. Something from the hidden realm would
be around somewhere. I continued talking to Lady. "A lot of
people aren't with us anymore. Including almost everybody who
went to town with us the night you got hit. Sleepy, too, later on.
In an ambush. Suvrin took over. He'll be all right.
He'll grow into it. As long as we help him."

Arkana added, "Don't forget the Prince and General
Chu. And Mihlos. I miss him."

"Because he panted around behind you like a horny hound
dog," Shukrat sneered. "And you just led him
on."

"And who went out of her way to make sure she wiggled and
jiggled whenever he was around?"

"Girls?"

"What?"

"I'm just jealous. Where were you when I was
Mihlos's age?"

Lady interrupted. "What else do I need to know?"

"The Palace fell down. We've occupied the city.
Aridatha Singh is in charge now and gets Arkana wiggling and
jiggling whenever he comes around. We don't know how the
succession will work out. We captured Booboo and the Khadidas. We
destroyed the Books of the Dead. Again. Booboo is right over there.
If you want to see her." I extended a hand to help her rise.
If she wanted. "She's pretty."

"I want. But I won't be able to stand up by myself.
I don't think I'll even be able to sit up for long
without help."

The crow snickered.

Lady gave the bird a long, hard look. Then she offered me its
twin.

I asked, "How's your connection with
Kina?"

"What do you mean, how is my connection?"

"Did I stutter? Is it still there? Is it stronger? Is it
weaker?"

"Why?"

"Because I want to know. Why not answer me?"

The girls were startled. They looked like they wished they were
anywhere else. But they spread out.

"She didn't take me over while I was sleeping, if
that's what you're after. I did have some awful
nightmares, though. It was like I was trapped inside her
imagination for an age. But she ignored me. She had something on
her mind." She came close to grinding her teeth with each
word. She did not want to open up. "The nightmare went away a
while ago."

I could understand. The only place I want to reveal myself, even
a little, is here, where hardly anyone will ever notice.

"Did you have any sense of time? I'm thinking maybe
something happening here changed what you were going through
there."

"Sense of time? It was forever. And no time at all. Kina
doesn't experience time the way we do. I don't think.
She sure doesn't let it oppress her. Come on. Show me my
baby. Before I collapse." She strained to get up.

Shukrat and Arkana got hold of her arms and helped her up.
Arkana asked, "She always this cranky when she wakes up,
Pop?"

"You're going to become part of the family, get used
to it. You will if you don't take it personal." I
chuckled when Lady asked me how I would like it if she stopped
getting personal. "She's not bad today."

The crow hissed. Clearly, it did not care if Lady figured it
out. In fact, what it said sounded like, "Sister,
sister." Which was the taunt Lady had employed a few years
ago, when she was looking out from behind the eyes of another
crow.

Curious, the white crows. There has been one around, off and on,
since the siege of Dejagore. Back then Murgen had been the mind
behind the bird's eyes. Most of the time. Apparently. But was
Shivetya the mind behind the crow-riding minds? Could he have had
that much power to affect events outside the glittering plain?

That would explain a good deal. Maybe even Murgen's former
difficulties with his place in time. But that would mean that
Soulcatcher was not responsible for much of what we believed were
her crimes. I was not sure I wanted it to be that way.

The bird snickered. Like it could read my mind.

Soulcatcher always had had a knack for reading me.

"We lost Murgen, too," I said as we moved into
position facing one another over the unconscious girl.

"I understood that. From your having told me how many we
lost. That would be everyone not wearing Voroshk clothing.
Correct?"

"Except for one damned lucky soldier from Hsien who
managed to be behind the right person at the right time. Lucky is
now Tarn Do's official nickname."

"Must be in the blood," Lady muttered, forcing
herself to look at the girl. "The women of my blood are fated
to spend most of their existence trapped and asleep." She
rested her weight more fully on the girls, extended a hand to touch
Booboo's cheek. She lapsed into the language of the Jewel
Cities. "Asleep like this was the only way I ever saw my
mother. She was the one they told the first Sleeping Beauty stories
about. Her Prince Charming never came. My father did. And he was
content with her the way she was."

Now there was a slice of horror to lug around in the back of
your brain: knowing that your mother was not even aware that you
had been born.

And we like to whine about how cruel the world is today.

They were giants in the olden days.

We will be giants ourselves five hundred years from now.

"So this is our baby." She stared. "Conceived
on a battlefield." Her emotions were plain upon her face.
Never had I seen her looking more vulnerable.

"This is our baby."

"Shall we wake her up?"

"I don't think so. Not now, anyway. Life is insane
enough right now without asking for more trouble."

That did not set well. Not at all. Lady wanted to establish some
kind of emotional dialog with this flesh of her flesh. For my part,
I found that now I had been exposed directly, the emotional
distress was fading away. I do not believe my thoughts were skewed
by might-have-beens and wish-that-weres.

Lady did concede that it might not be a good plan to waken
Booboo without Tobo there for backup.

She did not do anything untoward but she did have the girls
breathing nervously for a while.


Chapter 130 

Taglios: Khadidas

Tobo was there to
help when I wakened my old friend Goblin, who had become the
unwilling vessel of the Khadidas.

It was not that difficult once Tobo's controlling spells
had been cancelled. Tobo shook Goblin while I stood by. And once
the little shit began to stir Tobo stood by while I nagged.

The little man's eyelids snapped open. The eyes behind
them were not the eyes of the hedge wizard Goblin. I was looking
straight into large chips of the darkness. Those eyes seemed to
want to suck me in.

The mouth of the Khadidas opened, preparing to vent some infamy
or blasphemy. I interposed One-Eye's ragged old hat between
Kina's slave and myself. The effect was electric. The Goblin
body convulsed as though I had whacked it with a hot poker. I
slapped the hat down on its head.

"Lift," I told Tobo, who had placed himself at the
head of Goblin's cot, out of the Khadidas's field of
vision. I held the hat in place while Tobo raised Goblin into a
sitting position. "It works. Better than I hoped."

"Better than I thought it would, for sure."

"One-Eye always did underplay it when he did something
right." The wicked light had left Goblin's eyes. Now he
just looked empty. Not even a thousand-yard stare, there. More like
nobody at home at all.

"Do the spear."

I did the spear. But, man, was I reluctant to trust the wisdom
of a dead man when it came to putting that potent a tool into the
hands of a devil.

I stood it up in front of Goblin, its butt between his heels. I
wrapped his hands around the black shaft. Then I shoved
One-Eye's filthy felt relic down onto his head even more
solidly. Then I gripped his hands hard, squeezing them onto the
silver-and-black wood.

Life began to enter his eyes.

I told Tobo, "Not as dramatic as watching a baby being
born but dramatic enough." Even a dummy like me did not need
a map to see that we were conjuring up the real Goblin.

A Goblin in pain so deep I was aware immediately that only Lady
could begin to understand.

I settled myself on a stool. Tobo eased Goblin onto a chair with
an upright back, then planted himself on the edge of the cot.
Goblin kept turning from one of us to the other, tears streaming
but unable to speak, however hard he tried. He reached out to Tobo
in a silent plea for contact.

"Careful of that hat," I said. "I'm
already thinking about nailing it to his head." And thinking
about how wonderful a friend One-Eye had been, too. Because he had
foreseen some possibility like this and had invested his final
years in making a rescue feasible.

I choked up for a moment, thinking I never had a friend who
would go that far for me. Then I recalled that Sleepy had spent
fifteen years working to exhume the Captured. And now, barely five
years later, all those people but Lady and I were gone. Belly up.
Up in smoke. Finished.

Soldiers live.

Not once had Sleepy ever behaved like she believed that she had
wasted her life. But I am sure she had thought it sometimes.
Regarding some individuals.

I said, "You ought to keep at least one hand on the spear,
Goblin." We had done nothing to rid him of the Khadidas. The
monster had been pushed back into the pit where it had lain till it
had sprung forward to seize control, but now behind feeble
barriers. The monster was much stronger than Goblin. We would have
to work hard to keep it suppressed.

"What're we going to do with you?" I asked.
And felt a twinge of guilt. Because I had plans for him already.
Plans that might change the world.

"What do you think, Goblin? You going to help us help you
hang on?"

Goblin was getting some muscle control back. He managed a weak,
"Yeah," as he nodded his head, too.

"I'm going to leave everything in the hands of you
two gentlemen," Suvrin said. He nodded politely to Goblin.
"I scarcely knew this man. And then mainly from the
perspective of being the butt of practical jokes he and One-Eye
played. Meaning I might not be disinterested even if I tried. What
is that stuff around the bottom of that thing on his
head?"

"Glue. That thing is a hat. You must've seen One-Eye
wearing it. The old fart rigged it up with some spells, planning
for something like what did happen."

"You told me."

"All right. The glue is because we don't want the
hat to come off. Ever. If we could come up with a way that would
leave him free to feed himself and scratch his butt we'd glue
his hands to One-Eye's spear, too."

There is something about becoming Captain that takes the humor
out of a man. It had gotten to Suvrin already. He never cracked a
smile. He asked, "You gotten any useful information out of
him? Not yet? When?"

"I don't know. He's coming around. Really.
Remember, in practical terms he's been dead for six years.
He's having trouble figuring out how to use his body again.
Especially his tongue. Meanwhile, the Khadidas is still inside of
him trying to take over again."

"And Lady?"

I was more concerned about my wife than I was about Goblin. She
was acting strange. It did not seem like I knew her anymore. I had
resurrected all my earlier worries about her connection with Kina.
Kina was the master manipulator and planner. Kina schemed schemes
ages long and many layers deep.

But Kina was slow. Very slow. Which was why she favored plots
that required years to ripen. She could not handle swiftly changing
fortunes.

"Lady is a puzzle right now," I confessed.
"But a benign one."

Goblin made a gurgling sound. The Khadidas was working hard to
keep him from talking.

Suvrin asked, "Do you know anything about the leading men
of Taglios?"

"Not the current crop. Except for types. My advice would
just be, don't ever turn your back on any of them. You could
talk to Runmust Singh. If he survived the latest fighting." I
had a feeling he might have been with Sleepy in that ambush.
"Or you could just ask Aridatha to loan you a couple of
advisors."

Suvrin seemed unusually amenable to consulting for a Captain of
the Company.

He told me, "We need to resume our lessons. So I can study
the Annals."

I responded, "We need some peace for that. Maybe a few
years. We could build a new Company while we're at
it."

Goblin gurgled again and nodded.

The little creature was like a puppy in some ways.

I told Suvrin, "I need to talk to Goblin a while."
Once our hesitant new commander stepped out, I said, "We need
to work out ways around the Khadidas's
interference."

Nod.

"And that's how we'll do it, I guess. Unless
it can control more than your speech." I peered at the little
man. He did not respond. I realized that I had not posed a yes or
no question. "Can it do that?"

No.

"All right, then. The most critical question of all. Is
the Khadidas in direct contact with Kina?"

No. And yes. And a shrug. So we proceeded to play a game of a
thousand questions during which I seemed to go the wrong direction,
no matter where I went, making him gurgle in frustration. His best
efforts to speak seldom produced more than one recognizable
syllable.

Eventually, despite my density, I got it. The Khadidas could
communicate with the Goddess only when it was in control of the
Goblin flesh. It could not do so when it was not in control.

That made sense. Some. Though I had been cautioned to remember
that the Goblin I was interviewing was actually a ghost that had
not been able to leave when its body died and had been reanimated
by the breath of the Goddess.

"That is exciting news, Goblin. Look, I have a
plan." Difficult as it was, I dredged a form of it up from
its hidden place deep down inside me, hoping the Goddess had no way
of listening in. My plan depended entirely on my understanding of
the Goblin I had known for so long, hoping he had not altered
drastically during the past two decades. A man might change a lot
in that much time--if he had to spend part of it dead and enslaved
by the Mother of Deceivers.

On the surface Goblin seemed to like my plan, as I presented it.
Seemed willing to participate. Even seemed enthusiastic about
plunging One-Eye's spear into the blackest of hearts.

I told him, "I don't want to waste one minute I
don't have to. You understand?"

Nod. Even a gurgled, "Yes!" With enthusiasm. With
outright eagerness.

"I'll be back soon." I felt almost bad, not
telling a dead man all of the truth.


Chapter 131 

Around Taglios: Aerial Recon

I found Arkana and
asked if she wanted to go flying, nodding to indicate that she
really did want to make a tour of the upper air. For the benefit of
the curious I mentioned wanting to check rumors that troops loyal
to the Protectorate were headed toward the city. One force had
crossed the Main at Vehdna-Bota. Another was gathering out east,
near Mukhra in Ajitsthan, where Mogaba had enjoyed considerable
popularity among the tribes. Since those rumors were beginning to
make a lot of people nervous nobody would be surprised that I would
want to take a look.

And that is what we did while we were aloft, because it was work
that had to be done. Doing the work, though, gave me time to talk
to Arkana.

She replied, "I can see one big problem with your plan.
Maybe. What happens to the plain and the shadowgates? You asked me
if I wanted to go home. The answer is yes. I don't think to
stay, though. Just to see what happened there. To bury my dead, I
guess you could say. But I don't see how that could keep from
complicating everything else if I had to do it first because there
wouldn't be any way later."

"You're right. And I need to do what I've got
to do as soon as I can. Before Kina catches on." If she had
not foreseen the possibilities already. Or learned of them from
Goblin. Or Shivetya. Or from Lady, who was smart enough to guess
what I was thinking. Sometimes. "Particularly before my wife
catches on. Or starts thinking I'm chasing around."

We were approaching the River Main, heading for Vehdna-Bota.
There were pillars of smoke north of the ford, away from the small
settlement. But not many.

Arkana told me, "That's not much of an
army."

"Not in any hurry to get into harm's way, either,
looks like. There's plenty of daylight left they could use
for traveling."

Not in any hurry. When we went down for a closer look we found
men scattering like startled roaches.

"Somebody covering his ass," I said. "Making a
show of honoring his obligations. That bunch will never actually
get to Taglios."

We went back up. We talked, not just about what had to be
accomplished. Arkana seemed able to relax, now. Seemed to have made
peace with the bad times. Some manage that with comparative ease.
Others remain crippled for life. Those are not the sort who remain
soldiers. They become ex-soldiers and get intimate with wine or
poppies.

I asked about her leg.

She laughed. "I can be one of the old folks now. I can use
it to predict the weather."

"It's all right otherwise?"

"Yes."

"I do good work."

"Lots of practice."

"You get that in this racket."

We flew back toward Taglios, chatting in a relaxed way, me
thinking that this was what it would have been like had
Booboo grown up with her parents. Me fooling myself. Lying to
myself. No child would grow up even as normal as Arkana if they had
Lady for a mother and me for a father.

Maybe I had found the way. Adopt them after they have gotten
through their formative years.

We were passing south of Taglios, going to scout the forces
gathering in Ajitsthan, when Arkana spotted a billowing figure
climbing toward us. "That's Shukrat."

"Have you two made peace? Real peace?"

"Sort of. Mainly because we've only got each other.
From back home. If it wasn't for that we wouldn't even
be talking. Partly it's because of family stuff. Things our
parents did to each other. And partly it's us. She's
too cute and too sweet and dumb as a bucket of rocks. But all
she's ever had to do is make big eyes or bounce a little and
look helpless."

"And you were the smart one. Always expected to figure it
out for yourself."

"Yes."

"Well, you're growing up to be the prettier one,
too. Shukrat's going to be all freckles and frump before
long."

We slowed so Shukrat could catch up. She came up on my other
side. I asked, "What's up, other daughter?"

"Croaker, I wanted to talk about what happened to those
men on that island. That scares me. Really bad. I really like Tobo.
A lot." I was sure she was bright red behind her facial
wraps. She did blush easily. "But I don't think I want
to be involved with anyone capable of doing that."

"We're all capable of that, Shukrat. Put in the
right place at the right time and given a motive. It's the
people around us that keep us from doing it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Tobo cares about you. Probably a lot more than
he's willing to admit. He's a passionate kid.

"Because he's what he is he's always had the
capacity for huge evil, Shukrat. You know, nobody starts out to be
a villain. Not the Shadowmasters. Not my wife or her sister. Not
even the Voroshk. But being powerful can turn you villainous.
Because there's nothing to stop you from doing whatever you
want to do. Except for something inside you. For Tobo, for a long
time, that something was his love and respect for his parents. He
fought with Sahra every day but there was no way he was ever going
to do something that would disappoint her. While she was alive.
After she disappeared the brake on his dark side became his father.
But now Murgen is gone, too. So there's only one more person
whose good opinion is important enough to him to keep him from
letting himself go."

Shukrat had to think about that for a while. She was nowhere as
dim as Arkana claimed but there were times when it took her a while
to get her mind wrapped all the way around complex issues.

"You're saying me caring about him is what will keep
him from doing that stuff again?"

"Yes. I think that. But I also think you have to confront
him with your knowledge and make him understand that you
won't accept any excuses for behavior like that. Don't
nag. Don't carp. State your case firmly and clearly, then
shut up. Don't negotiate. You have to mark out an absolute
limit he'll always know is there. And stick with it. You
always have to know it's there, too."

Shukrat nodded.

While I waited to see if she got it I told Arkana, "I
might turn out to be pretty good at this fatherly advice
stuff."

"You're definitely long-winded enough."

"Thanks a lot."

"For the record, I think you're right. What you said
to her."

"You know what she's talking about?"

"She warned me. In case I wanted to watch out for General
Singh. Not long after you warned me about it. I had to go see what
you were excited about, didn't I?"

The girl rose in my estimation every damned day.

The force gathering at Mukhra was much more of a threat than
that at Vehdna-Bota. It would mean major new trouble if Aridatha,
as the new Great General, was unable to sell the concept of peace
to Mogaba's old allies.


Chapter 132 

Taglios: Wife and Child

Lady was sitting
beside Booboo again. Or still. I pulled up a stool opposite her.
"Want me to take over for a while? Give you a chance to get
out and about and stretch your legs? The Green Dragon Banner
Company have a wicked lamb stew going. Don't ask me where
they found sheep in this madhouse."

She lifted her face. There were tear tracks on her cheeks.
"Help me, Croaker. I can't stop thinking about how much
was taken away from me when Narayan Singh stole her. How much that
one event changed my life."

It changed all our lives. It affected everyone in this end of
this world and hundreds of thousands in at least two others. But
she was completely self-involved right now.

"Get up and get out of here," I told her. "Go
get something to eat. Go flying. It's a beautiful, cool day.
There're signs that things are going to start greening up
soon. Go take it in. I want you to get hold of yourself before I
go. I don't want to leave you here if you don't think
you're all right."

"Go? Where are you going?"

"It's almost time to release the first contingent of
the Children of the Dead. Some of us are going to scout the way
south and across the plain. And get the guys at the shadowgate
busy collecting supplies. Why don't you come along?
It'll get your mind off things."

"No. I couldn't. There isn't anyone here who
can take care of her."

Damn! Now I saw where she was vulnerable. I saw the door the
darkness would use to get in. If it had not done so already.

Clever me, though. I knew how to close that door. Forever. And I
had just set myself up to take care of it without interference.

"Go get some stew. Strut around. Make the soldiers hate me
for being lucky enough to have you." There was a time when
every man did. When every man responded to Lady the way women did
to Aridatha Singh. But those days were gone. And so were all those
men but me.

I glanced down at Booboo, then up at the silent white crow
standing in the open window. It certainly seemed to run in the
blood.

The white crow was around a lot now, but was quiet about it. So
far I had not forgotten to look around before I said anything I did
not want overheard. I needed to keep my fingers crossed for the
future, though.

Lady dithered.

I said, "If you don't get going I'll call some
guys in here and have them hold you down while I paddle
you."

For a moment the Lady I love peeked out of the dark place. She
flashed a smile, said, "Promise? That might be
fun."

Once she left I collected Booboo's hand and indulged in a
little of the same despair. The girl's fingers were cold as
death. But she was breathing.

The white crow found it all amusing. "You've become
sickeningly domestic, lover."

I growled something.

"Ah, I know. You were so stubborn when I had you. But it
might be fun to see what happened if somebody said you
weren't, after all these years."

I grumbled.

"Well, maybe not fun for you." And, after a moment,
in a different, sorrowful, almost little girl voice, "It
could have been something amazing."

No doubt. And fatal besides, probably.


Chapter 133 

Glittering Stone: A Dangerous Game

Only four of us
flew south. Five if you counted that ragged-ass lazy crow riding
the tip of Goblin's flying post. The little man was flying
independently but his movements were limited by a tow rope and a
safety harness, each of which connected him to a different
companion. We told him it was for his safety while he was learning
to manage the post but even dead he was smart enough to see through
that. We did not want him haring off if the Khadidas regained
control.

Goblin was much stronger now. He could manage most self care
without assistance and many other uncomplicated tasks as well. He
had a vocabulary of maybe thirty words. He could lay
One-Eye's spear down for minutes at a time without risk of
wakening the demon within.

We were blazing along through blue skies, cloaks streaming
thirty yards behind, at an altitude low enough to panic livestock
and send children running to tell skeptical parents. The girls
whooped and shrieked, having a wonderful time. Whomever's
turn it was not to mind Goblin soared and dove.

Spring was going to spring soon. With these kids that might
become an adventurous season.

With spring would come the rainy season, too. Lots of wet and
lots of ferocious weather.

I made a couple of brief side trips. The main one was a brief
look at Dejagore, where life had settled into a semblance of
normalcy and nobody was mourning the passing of one of the
city's most famous daughters. Probably not one in a thousand
people outside the garrison knew that Sleepy called Dejagore
home.

The other side trips involved looking for evidence of the Nef in
places where I thought I might have seen them before. I found
nothing.

Since there had been no sign of those ghosts of the glittering
stone, outside my own glimpses, I was pretty sure what I had seen
had not been the genuine articles.

Tobo had expressed a suspicion that, had I not been imagining
things, what I had seen were some of his hidden folk trying out
disguises.

He believed some would do that just for the hell of it. The
folklore of the Land of Unknown Shadows supported his contention.
In fact, that sort of prank was a huge favorite.

So, probably, the Nef were less of a problem than I had feared.
But a problem even so. Unless they were trapped in the Voroshk
world.

Panda Man, at the shadowgate, robbed me of that foolish hope.
"They're out there begging and whining every night,
Captain."

"Looks like you guys have made yourselves right at
home." They had built themselves a tiny hamlet, complete with
women and livestock, most of both showing signs of gravidity.

"Best duty we ever had, Captain."

"Well, now is when it starts getting tough." I spun
out a gaggle of orders. Then me and my daughters, my pal the white
crow and my dead friend, passed through the shadowgate. Though I
could see nothing I thought I could sense the pressure of the Nef
inside.

The plain boasted a thousand patches of dirty snow. Old snow lay
drifted against the standing stones on their west sides. The air
was bitterly cold. The place was getting its weather from somewhere
other than my native world. And it had an air of neglect. As though
the residents had given up housekeeping and maintenance.

The neglect was less evident inside the nameless stronghold. The
stench of human waste was gone. Evidently Baladitya had cleaned up
after Shivetya's Voroshk guests. But there was a taint of
wasted human.

"We need some light," I told the girls. Still
competing with one another in some ways, both hastened to create
those little will-o'-the-wisp glowing balls that seem to be
the first trick any sorcerer learns.

The source of the odor was obvious instantly. Baladitya had
fallen asleep at his worktable and had not yet awakened. The chill,
dry air had done a lot to preserve him.

I was unhappy but not surprised. Baladitya must have been an
antique when I was born.

Arkana and Shukrat made appropriate noises expressing
sorrow.

"This isn't good," I muttered, staring at the
copyist's remains. "I was counting on him to help me
talk to Shivetya."

From somewhere in the darkness the white crow said, "Hi,
there, soldier. Looking for a good time?"

Fumbling around after oil with which to refill Baladitya's
empty lamps, I said, "Ah, yes. You. All is not lost. But
neither is it found."

"What?" That voice was a high-pitched squeak. I
wondered how she managed to produce so many of those, even when
using a bird to do her talking.

"Trust." I recalled a time when anything she said
scared the shit out of me. I guess familiarity does
breed . . . something. I was almost comfortable
with her. "Why on earth would you expect me to trust anything
you say?"

It helped my courage, knowing she was buried and in a sort of
undying coma.

"Shivetya won't let me lie."

Right. Call me a cynic. But I had a notion that the golem might
have been with us more than Kina had, over the years. A notion that
it would be impossible to untangle his manipulations from hers. A
suspicion that he might be just as much a deceiver as she was when
it came to maneuvering toward the end of the world.

"Right, then. Got your word, do we? I'm comfortable
with that. Let's get started. Does the Goddess know
we're here? Does she know what's in my mind?"

"Her attention is elsewhere."

The girls took over filling and lighting the lamps. They were
good girls. They had learned to do for themselves. And they watched
their daddy at work with respect and awe. Or, at least, they
wondered what I was doing, talking to a crow that looked diseased.
And having the crow talk back, like it was intelligent.

I told Arkana, "If you could read and write Taglian
you'd understand all about this because you'd be able
to keep up with the Annals."

"No thanks, Pop. Not even a good try. I said no yesterday,
I'm telling you no today, and all you're going to hear
is no again tomorrow. I'm not going to get pulled any deeper
into your mob than I already am."

Which is what Suvrin used to say. Suvrin, who started out as a
prisoner of war.

Shukrat said, "Don't even even bother to look over
here."

I had not considered Shukrat. I would not. But I did think
Arkana might work out. If she would give it a chance. She had a
personality suitable to be one of the gang.

"Recruiting season over?" the crow demanded.

"For now." I peered into the darkness, trying to
make out more details of the golem. There was not enough light. But
the demon seemed to be asleep.

Or at least uninterested. Which puzzled me, since I was there to
set him free.

I shrugged. His indifference would not slow me down.

I collected Goblin. I led him well out onto the floor of
Shivetya's vast hall, away from other ears. Had I brought a
lamp along I would have been able to see how lovingly the floor
detailed the features of the plain outside.

I reviewed for the little man. "Kina is a very slow
thinker. We need to get this done before she understands that
we're already here, that we intend to strike, and that we do
have a weapon puissant enough to do the job." One-Eye's
spear shimmered all the time here. Filaments of fire slithered over
it in unpredictable patterns, excitedly. The edges of its head
groaned as they sliced the air itself. It seemed to sense that it
had come home.

No one could argue that the spear was not a masterpiece of a
peculiar sort of art. No one could deny that in creating his
masterwork One-Eye had reached a level of inspiration seen nowhere
else in his long but rather pathetic life.

Many an artistic masterpiece has fallen into that same category:
the sole triumph of the genius of its creator.

"Once we reach the black veil across the stairwell
she'll start to realize her danger. You'll have to move
fast. Get up as much speed as you can so you can drive the spear as
deep as you can. The Lance of Passion wasn't potent enough.
But it wasn't made for godslaying. One-Eye's spear is.
You could name it Godslayer. You know. You were there during most
of the years he worked on it. When we were in Hsien it became his
whole career."

Goblin had been there. But that Goblin had been alive, not a
ghost still trapped in the flesh it had worn in life. At least part
of the time this Goblin was an agent of the very monster this
Goblin was going to kill. Or maim. Or just irritate.

As the doubts began to circle round me like Tobo's hidden
realm friends I kept right on talking, explaining yet again why he
was the only one of us who could make the strike. And he really did
find my arguments compelling. Or else his mind was made up and the

hopes and wishes of others no longer mattered.

The Goblin thing climbed back aboard his flying post.

I pushed my own forward, so I could see the tip of his and make
doubly sure I knew which one he was riding. "Let's go
downstairs, then," I said. "I'll be right behind
you. Your post is spelled to come back on its own if you're
unconscious." He knew. He had been there when Shukrat fixed
it to do that. "If that doesn't work I'll swoop
in and grab you, drag your ass away. If you want, I even brought an
extra hundred yards of line to hook onto your safety harness. We
can tie it to your belt."

The little man looked at me like he thought I was trying too
hard. He had been working himself up for a suicide mission,
convinced that the destruction of his flesh was the only way he
could rid himself of his parasite and find rest himself.

I played the whole scam by ear. I had no real idea what Goblin
really wanted or what he hoped to achieve with the false life he
had been given. I had not been able to guess much about him when he
was alive. The only thing I knew for sure was that he was working
crippled. Doing without One-Eye was, for him, like doing without
one of his limbs.

And he did want to hurt Kina. That was never in doubt.

A long, difficult discussion ended up with me chagrined a bit as
I finally got the message that Goblin was not deeply interested in
backup that would pull him out if things went sour. He wanted
backup that would make sure the job got done even if he failed.

I do not know why I had so much trouble recognizing and
understanding Goblin's program. Possibly because I was
concentrating on getting things to go forward exactly the way I
wanted. Goblin had told me almost everything before, one time or
another, when I had been focused enough to ask.

Personally uninclined toward mortal self-sacrifice, I had
trouble overriding my cynical nature--particularly as regarded
someone as self-indulgent as Goblin had been for so long.

Goblin brandished One-Eye's spear and told me what I had
already told him but had not done. "Time to go downstairs,
Croaker." He got it all out in a single, bell-tone clear
sentence.

I patted myself down. Final check. Still not sure I was ready
for this.


Chapter 134 

Taglios: Best Served Cold

The only check on
Tobo was Lady, who could not maintain her level of interest. The
only check on Lady was the wonder boy. And he had other things on
his mind. And altogether too much of that touched by the
darkness.

No Shukrat, no Croaker, no Lady paying attention. Nights in the
city lost their traditional noisome urban charm. Some people began
to compare the new age to a time when the Protector had loosed her
murderous shadows upon the city, for no more obvious reason than
existed behind the unleashing of the horrors out there now.

The fact that there were few actual deaths went unremarked.

The Unknown Shadows enjoyed themselves greatly, tormenting the
living. As did Tobo, who found himself free to do anything he
wanted.

Except in his dreams.

A woman had begun to haunt those. A beautiful Nyueng Bao woman
who seemed to be the embodiment of sorrow. He understood in his
heart that this was his mother as she had appeared when she was
young, before she had met his father. Usually she was not alone.
Sometimes she was accompanied by a young, unbent Nana Gota. And
sometimes by another woman, always gentle, always with a smile,
forged of steel tougher than that of Uncle Doj's sword Ash
Wand. This woman, who had to be his great grandmother, Hong Tray,
never spoke. She communicated more with a disapproving eye than
Sahra could say in a hundred words.

His vengeances were unacceptable to all these women who had
created and formed him.

Tobo could not determine if he was being touched by the ghosts
of his ancestors--a possibility entirely in keeping with Nyueng Bao
beliefs--or if the women were the product of some
conscience-stricken cellar of his mind. The darkness within him was
strong enough to make him want to defy them.

None of them wanted to be avenged.

Sahra's ghost warned, "You won't just hurt
yourself, darling. If you go on you'll be running into a
trap. Put aside your pain. Embrace your true destiny and let it
lift you up."

Hong Tray studied him with eyes like cold steel marbles,
agreeing that he had come to a crossroads. That he was about to
make a choice that would shape the rest of his life.

He knew, of course, that the words the ghost women spoke, and
the ghosts themselves, had to be metaphors.

He had no trouble with his conscience when he was awake. So he
tried to avoid sleep.

Sleep deprivation clouded his judgment even further.

The hidden folk always reported the same thing: Aridatha Singh
would not leave his offices. He worked day and night, seldom doing
more than catnap, as he tried to hold the Taglian world together by
the weight of his own will. The struggle to maintain control ought
to have beaten him down and have shredded his spirit in days. Most
men would have started cutting throats to more swiftly facilitate
reconstruction and assuage frustration. Aridatha just beat people
down with reason and public opinion. He treated with no one in
secret. He made sure the world knew when someone refused to handle
the city's business publicly.

Obstructionists were becoming known. The mood of people
displaced by strife and fire was not forgiving of traditional
factionalism.

The unthinkable happened. Several men of high caste were beaten
savagely. Shadar were seen in the crowds, encouraging the violence.
No one wondered, though, and Aridatha Singh did not appear to be
aware of that personally.

It was deep night but a light traffic continued to and from the
City Battalions barracks containing Aridatha Singh's
headquarters. A dark fog slowly gathered around the place. People
grew sleepy. Shadows scampered among the shadows. For an instant,
here and there, little people or little animals were visible
briefly--had anyone been awake to see them.

Tobo came walking through it all, so tired his eyes were
crossing, so sure of himself that he had not brought his flying
post nor had he armored himself in Voroshk black. So sure of
himself that he did not double-check reports from his Unknown
Shadows.

He expected to walk in, complete his revenge, and be gone with
no one the wiser. Aridatha Singh's fate would become a great
and terrible mystery.

The hidden folk could tell him nothing about Singh's
office. They could not get inside it. It was kept sealed airtight.
But the sentries outside were snoring.

Tobo shoved the door. It gave way only grudgingly, swinging
inward. He stepped inside, panting. Across the room three men had
fallen forward onto a worktable or lay sprawled in their chairs.
"Not good," Tobo muttered, unexcited by the presence
of the potential witnesses.

"Not good at all," Aridatha said, lifting his face
off the desktop.

Tobo just had time to catch the swish of air behind him before
something hit the back of his head with force enough to crack bone.
He went down into the darkness knowing he had been betrayed, that
he had walked into a trap. The Unknown Shadows scattered in every
direction, going mad, making Taglios a city of nightmares.

Sahra, Gota and Hong Tray all awaited Tobo on the other shore of
consciousness. All three told him that this was a disaster entirely
of his own devising. He could have avoided it simply by doing the
right thing.

He had been warned beforehand. He had not listened.

Sahra's sorrow was deeper than ever Tobo had known it
before.


Chapter 135 

Taglios: The Mad Season

Lady dealt with
the temptation easily for several days after Croaker departed. She
kept reminding herself that all she had to do was hang on till he
got back. By then the Daughter of Night would not be the Deceiver
messiah anymore. She would be just plain Booboo.

Sense told Lady to be patient. But emotion knew no patience. And
emotion threatened to devour her. Despite her long history, emotion
had stolen control.

She broke after only four days.

Lady took a quick look into the hallway to make certain no one
was likely to intervene, then settled on a stool beside her
daughter's bed. She plucked the ends of strands of spells
keeping the girl asleep and constrained. She worked quickly and
deftly. She had been studying Booboo's bonds all those four
days.

Those spells unravelled almost as if they had a will of their
own.

Lady proceeded with an uncharacteristically naive haste. That
part of her that had grown hard and bitter in the real world mocked
her for her childishness. This was the world. Her world. The real
world. There was no reason to expect any good to come her way.

Booboo's eyes snapped open with mechanical suddenness. The
color was right but still they were not the family eyes. Nor were
they Croaker's eyes. They were eyes colder than Lady's
own in her crudest hour. They were the eyes of a serpent, a naga,
or a deity. For an instant Lady froze like a mouse caught in a
snake's stare. Then she said, "I'm an incurable
romantic. The essence of romance is an unshakable conviction that
next time will be different." She tried to assert control
while the girl was physically too weak to act.

The girl's "love me" aura had touched Lady
already, so subtly that she remained unaware of it until it was too
late.

Lady had not worn her Voroshk costume. There was no shelter from
the storm.

A vibration developed down deep inside her, at glacial speeds.
As it built she watched the power of the Goddess slowly fill the
Daughter of Night. The buzz within Lady included a trace of mirth.
She understood that her unpracticed maternal emotions had been
discovered and manipulated, ever so subtly, for a very long time.
So subtly that she had not suspected. Worse, so subtly that she was
not adequately prepared to respond to any disaster.

Nevertheless, she was a woman of incredible will, having had
ages to practice employing it.

There was a countermove left.

In an instant Lady made the cruelest decision of her life. She
would regret it forever but knew the choice she made would leave
her with the least painful long-term wounds.

The Lady of Charm had centuries of practice making terrible
decisions quickly, and just as many years of practice living with
the consequences.

From her belt Lady drew a memento of her brief passage as
Captain of the Black Company. The dagger's pommel was a
silver skull with one ruby eye. The ruby always seemed to be alive.
Lady lifted the blade slowly, her gaze locked with that of the
Daughter of Night. The sense of the presence of Kina grew ever
stronger between them.

"I love you," Lady said, responding to a question
never asked, existing only within the girl's heart. "I
will love you forever. I will always love you. But I won't
let you do this thing to my world."

Lady could do it, in spite of all. She had slain as dear before,
when she was not yet as old as the child lying beneath her knife.

And for less reason.

She felt a madness creep through her. She tried to
concentrate.

She could kill because she was filled with a conviction that
there was no better thing she could do.

Kina and the Daughter of Night both strove to crack Lady's
terrible will. But the dagger descended toward the girl's
breast, its progress inexorable. The Daughter of Night quickly
became the hypnotized prey, unable to believe that Lady's
blade kept falling.

The tip of the knife touched cloth. It passed through, found
flesh, then a rib. Lady shifted her weight so she could drive the
blade between bones.

She never sensed it coming. The blow, seemingly struck to the
right side of her head, was powerful enough to hurl her sideways a
half dozen feet, into a wall. Darkness closed in. For an instant
there was a living dream in which she saw herself trying to
strangle her child instead of stabbing her.

The Daughter of Night felt fire rip across her chest as her
would-be killer flung toward the wall. She screamed. But the agony
that moved her was not that of her wound. It was a black explosion
inside her mind, a sudden tidal wave of knifelike shards of a
thousand dark dreams, of a scream harsher than ten thousand
whetstones sharpening swords, of a rage so vast and red it could be
called the Eater of Worlds.

That blow was violent enough to fling her upward and to one
side. She came down sprawled across the still form of her birth
mother. But she did not know. She was unconscious long before
gravity placed and posed her.

A whiff of old death, of graveyard mold, hung in the air of the
room.


Chapter 136 

Fortress with No Name: Godstalking

Goblin was too
eager. Twice I felt compelled to yell at him to slow down. He
plunged down the dark stairwell at a pace I could not match. Even
wearing the Voroshk apparel the bruising impacts with the walls
became too much for my nerve.

We had not yet gone as deep as the ice cavern where Soulcatcher
lay when I bellowed an order to stop. Wonder of wonders, this time
Goblin heard me. And listened. And responded when I told him we had
to go back up.

"What?" He turned the word into a two syllable
whisper from an old tomb.

"We can't do this in the dark. We'll beat
ourselves unconscious before we get down there. Or at least get
there too beaten up to think."

He made a sound that signified reluctant agreement. He had had a
few unpleasant collisions of his own.

"We have to go get lights." Why had I overlooked
something so obvious? Because I was too damned busy looking for
the subtle and the sneaky, I suppose.

The stairwell was much too tight to turn the flying posts. We
had to back them up. That was a slow, humbling, sometimes painful
task. And things did not get much less humiliating when we did
reach the top.

The girls and the white crow awaited us. In attitudes so smug
they could be read even though the ladies were clad for action.
Arkana swung a lantern back and forth.

For an instant I suffered an entirely irrelevant worry because I
had not brought my Widowmaker costume. It seemed appropriate to the
situation. But definitely not necessary.

All that armor ever was was a costume.

Now Shukrat waved a lantern back and forth. And laughed.

"Not a word," I grumped.

"Did I say anything?"

"You're thinking it, darling daughter."

She raised her lantern higher, the better to see what I was
wearing. My apparel was in slow, creeping motion all around me,
repairing extensive damage. "Not a word from me, old-timer.
You know your Shukrat. Honors her elders to a fault. But I'm
going to laugh, now. Please don't jump to conclusions and
think that it's at you."

Arkana laughed harder.

Goblin made a series of noises, depleting his vocabulary
fast.

"He's right. Give us those lanterns. We need to get
this done." I hoped my dimwit failure to consider the need
for light would not be the one little thing that got us destroyed.
And that that was the last little thing I had been dumb enough to
forget.

Goblin took the lantern from Shukrat. He headed down into the
earth again. He was not nearly so hurried this time. Possibly his
lust for revenge had begun to cool.

I took Arkana's lantern. The white crow flapped over to
the tip of my post. Before I finished telling it that traveling
with me might not be a good idea. Shukrat had another lantern going
and was helping Arkana get herself another lit.

The girls had been ready for us.

I bickered with them all the way down to the ice cavern. They
had fun with me all the way. They refused to listen to my
warnings.

The white crow decided the cave of the ancients would be a fine
place to detour. I bellowed, "Don't touch anything in
there! Especially don't touch yourself." I continued,
mumbling, "When will I learn to keep my big damned mouth
shut?" It would be a great and wonderful irony if the
bird's touch was Soulcatcher's undoing, after all her
lucky years.

Goblin got the hurries again. When I tried to slow him down he
told me, "There's something going on with Kina!
She's starting to stir."

"Shit!"

Keeping up was impossible, until we reached the black barrier.
There Goblin's nerve failed him. There he froze, recalling
the horror of the years he had spent on the other side.

"Goblin. We're almost there. We've got to do
this. We've got to do it now." Numb as I was to things
supernatural even I could sense Kina's proximity and her
heightened awareness. Which must not be our fault. Her attention
was focused elsewhere. "Now!" I said with more
force.

Behind us the girls had begun whispering, troubled. They sensed
much more than I ever could.

I told them, "You two go back upstairs now. I guarantee
you that you'll be glad you did. Especially if things
don't work out for us. Goblin."

He reclaimed his courage. Or maybe just found his hatred again.
His face hardened. He started forward.

"Don't rush," I stage-whispered as he passed
through the black barrier. "Girls, I mean it. Start running
now. There have to be some survivors." I pushed through the
terrible barrier behind Goblin, nearly messing myself with the
fear. Despite what I had told the little man this was no time to be
slow or tentative. Once we breached the barrier Kina knew that we
had come. Her slowness would be our only ally.

Once I breached that barrier I flung myself into the anteroom
area outside the entrance to Kina's prison. Goblin lined
himself up to charge. I had to do several things at once: encourage
him, prepare myself to weather what was about to happen and do my
thankless bit to make this deicide work.

Got to keep the whole picture in mind. Got to do each thing on
time, in the right order, just the way you worked it out over the
last few months.

As Goblin surged forward I placed my flying post into the angle
where the floor met the left-hand wall, then plastered myself
against the wall above it and willed my Voroshk clothing to form a
protective scab over it and me. Then, in light almost too dim for
use, I found the right page in the First Father's notebook. I
kept my protection open just enough to let me watch Goblin hurtle
straight at Kina and, to my surprise, drive One-Eye's spear
into her temple. I had expected him to go for the heart.

I completed the cantrip that would destroy Goblin's post,
finished shutting me and my post in. Then I allowed myself to feel
lower than snake shit because of what I was doing.

I had been hard at work justifying myself to myself for months.
And had carried on. But now it was happening. And when it was over
I would have to live with my deceits forever.

The entire universe shook. The cavern where Kina lay was big but
it was confined. The stairwell was the only escape the products of
that violence could find. The energy wave pounded at my
protection.

I clung to the stone wall, beneath layers and layers of Voroshk
material, while the universe howled and shuddered. I swore that if
Kina was powerful enough to get through this I would enlist in her
service myself because the only thing tougher than her would be the
guys who tied her up. And they had not been seen for several
millenia.

The noise began to fade. But I had trouble hearing it go. The
roar had deafened me temporarily.

I hoped the girls did head back up the way I told them.

I hoped the violence did no damage elsewhere. I doubted that it
would. A major earthquake had split the plain open without
destroying the ice caves or doing any harm down here.

I willed the Voroshk clothing to open a crack through which I
could see. If need be, if Kina had survived but was injured, I
would push my post in there and blow it, too. And if I survived a
second blast I would start hoping that I did not suffer a heart
attack or starve to death while trying to climb those miles of
steps.

The material protecting me had been so traumatized that it took
ten minutes to respond. It twitched and shivered and crawled,
moving in small surges, as it tried to heal itself.

Once I had an eyehole I discovered that there was nothing to
see. Intense bright light still burned inside Kina's cell. It
might have been fading but it was going slowly if it was.

It was half an hour before I could look for details without
having my eyeballs hurt. Just as well. It took that long for my
protective outfit to heal and relax sufficiently to allow me off
the wall.

Those outfits are made smart. They take just long enough
recovering to keep you from doing something stupid.

I mounted my post and moved forward, knowing, as I went, that my
protection would not survive another blast soon.

At first I could find nothing. Later, after the light faded some
more, I began to discover bits of what might once have been tooth
or bone embedded in various surfaces. Of flesh, be it
Goblin's or the Goddess's, there was no sign.

In fact, I doubted that any of the tooth and bone fragments
could have belonged to any mere mortal. The explosion had been that
violent. More violent, even, than those that had destroyed the
Voroshk shadowgate, that had initiated the collapse of the
Palace.

Kina's destruction had somehow added vast energy to the
explosion.

My post was not behaving quite right. It stuttered and was slow
to respond. It must have gotten rattled around some even though I
had done my best to protect it.

Once the light faded round where the Goddess had lain I saw what
looked like a long black snake lying in the rubble of Kina's
rock bed. It was the only nonwhite thing in the place, other than
me.

I approached carefully. For all I knew that was the bone of
darkness that had snuggled next to Kina's heart. And I was
prepared to believe that anything I saw or experienced in this
place would be illusion.

Kina was the Mother of Deceit.

One of the great powers of the Deceivers was their ability to
leave you doubting everything and trusting no one.

The black thing was no snake. It was the deformed remains of
One-Eye's spear. It had come through the violence with
surprisingly little damage. It was just twisted and bent a little,
and lightly charred on its surface. The metal inlays had been only
slightly distorted by intense heat.

Man, he must have put some artful protective spells onto that
thing.

I gathered the spear, went and made sure that I was securely
attached to my post, then gave it the command to take me back to
base point.


Chapter 137 

Taglios: The Melancholy Wife

We wobbled down
out of the sky like a family of mangy buzzards. My Voroshk clothing
still had not healed completely. The girls were more tattered than
I. The blast had caught them climbing the stairwell. They had
bruises over most of their bodies.

The real miracle was how well all the posts had come through,
though none remained unscathed.

The Grove of Doom rose to meet us, welcoming us like a mother
greeting lost children.

Bizarre thoughts and images kept worming into my mind now. They
worried me. They made me doubt that Kina was actually gone, not
just in hiding.

Jokingly, Shukrat told me what I ought to be worried about was
Kina's father and husband wanting to get even. I did not
laugh. To me it seemed like a worthy concern.

The Grove of Doom was empty. Of humanity. But some birds had
moved in already and there were a few small animals in the
underbrush now.

There was no sense of grim foreboding about the place
anymore.

"We did it," I sighed. "Finally. For real. No
more Kina to torment the worlds."

Not having spent their lives under the threat of the Year of the
Skulls, the girls were less excited.

The white crow settled on a nearby branch, divested itself of a
dirty feather. "Are you sure?" The beast was having
lots of fun tickling my fears. She and I seemed to be headed for a
long and unpleasant relationship--unless I kept my promise to
Shivetya.

I said, "If there was any place in this world where
Kina's survival would manifest itself, that would be here.
This place has been almost a part of her since her cult began. And
that might have been here. I don't think she could disengage
herself from the Grove even if she wanted to."

"Then let's get going," Shukrat said.

Arkana sneered, "She can't wait to get her hands on
Tobo again." She was not being mean-spirited. And
Shukrat's counterfire included a mention of Aridatha Singh
and Arkana's terminal timidity. Which did turn Arkana
serious.

"Hey, Pop. What do you think Kina being gone will mean to
the Daughter of Night?" Walking on eggshells. But worried by
the glances she had seen Singh lay upon the girl, not entirely
believing that every man reacted like that. "Is she going to
turn normal?"

Shukrat showed a sudden interest, too.

"I don't know, baby doll. I worry, though.
She's been connected to Kina from the second she was
conceived. Seems like to her it would be about like you or me
having our liver ripped out."

I was more worried about my wife. Her losing her connection to
Kina would devastate her. Everything she was, in her own heart, was
tied up in her being the terrible sorceress. Without Kina to leech
from she would be just another middle-aged woman gone dumpy and
grey.

The weather had been problematic all the way up from the
shadowgate. We had had to skirt rain storms and thunder-heads again
and again. That had cost us more than a day.

Now, only twenty miles out, there was no evading the weather.
Except by going up way high, where it was icy cold and almost
impossible to breathe, then zigging back and forth between seething
mountains of cloud while being tossed and taunted by turbulence.
Shukrat and Arkana were dead set against getting caught aloft in a
thunderstorm. Arkana told me, "Think what might happen if you
got hit by lightning."

I did not think long. There was no one I wanted to see badly
enough to have my post blow up between my legs. I headed for the
ground. We holed up in a Gunni farming village where the locals
treated us with the same cautious respect they would have shown a
trio of nagas, the evil serpent people Gunni myth has living deep
underground but surfacing to plague humanity on numerous occasions,
always a couple, three villages away.

We did not steal any of their babies or maidens, nor their
sacred cattle, nor even their sheep. I found it interesting that
they were sufficiently flexible religiously to raise sheep for sale
to folks like the Vehdna, who were going to gobble them right
down.

The lightning quit stomping around soon after midnight. We left
our hosts with coin enough to have them blessing our names. Which
we never mentioned.

There was no lightning now but there was a steady, light rain.
The Voroshk apparel helped, but only some. I was cold and miserable
and my pet crow, now riding right in front of me in order to get
under a fold of my cloak, was so far gone in the miseries that it
no longer bothered to complain.

The Company barracks seemed both unnaturally quiet and
abnormally alert. Armed sentries appeared everywhere. "Looks
like Suvrin's worried about an attack."

"Something must have happened."

I hovered. "You girls sense anything?"

"Something definitely isn't right," Arkana
said. "I don't know what."

"We'd better find out." Gone less than two
weeks and everything had gone to hell?

Survin explained. I controlled myself and did not run off to see
Lady before I got the whole story. Suvrin told me, "General
Singh has Tobo in a cell that's isolated so the Unknown
Shadows can't reach him for instructions. Singh won't
let anyone visit Tobo. We do know the kid is hurt,
though."

"Obviously. Or he wouldn't put up with this. He
tried something stupid?"

"Oh, yes. And I don't have the horses to get him out
of it."

"Now you do. If you want to bother. What about
Lady?"

"We don't know what happened. Nobody was there. And
I've had no reports recently. Last I heard, she was conscious
but sullen and unresponsive. And the girl is worse. Your effort was
successful?"

"Pretty much. Which probably explains Lady and
Booboo." I did not expand. "It feels creepy around
here."

"Gets more that way every night. Tobo's friends
aren't happy. And they get unhappier by the hour. But
Aridatha isn't intimidated."

"We'll see if we can't change that. After I
see my wife." Or the person who used to be my wife.

I took Arkana with me. Just in case. "Don't say
anything. Just stay in the background and cover me," I told
her.

There was a guard outside my quarters but he was not there to
keep anyone in. Probably not to keep anyone out, either. He was an
early-warning marker for Suvrin. He and I exchanged nods. He broke
Arkana's heart by failing to notice that she was an
attractive young woman. I guess that was supposed to be obvious
despite the Voroshk outfit.

Lady sat at a small table. She stared into nothingness. At some
time she had been playing a solitaire-type card game but had lost
interest long ago. The lamp beside her was almost drained of oil.
Black smoke boiled off it because its wick needed trimming.

Wherever she was looking, it was plain she saw nothing but
despair.

She had lost all interest in maintaining her appearance.

I laid my good hand on her right shoulder. "Darling.
I'm back."

She did not respond right away. Once she did recognize my voice
she pulled away. "You did it," she said, more thinking
out loud than actually speaking to me. "You did something to
Kina." Only in the "you" was there any human
emotion.

I glanced back at Arkana, to see if she was paying attention.
This would be a critical moment. "I killed her. Just the way
we contracted to do." If there was any fragment of the
Goddess in her now, that ought to provoke a reaction.

It did but not the physical attempt at revenge I would have
preferred. Almost.

She just started crying.

I did not remind her that she had known this day was coming.
Instead, I asked, "How is Booboo? How is she taking
it?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen her."

"What? Before I left we couldn't get you away from
her long enough to eat."

The dam broke. The tears started. She became a woman I had not
seen before, busted open like an overly ripe fruit. "I tried
to kill her."

"What?" She had spoken very softly.

"I tried to kill her, Croaker! I tried to murder my own
daughter! I tried, with all my will and strength, to put a dagger
in her heart! And I would've done it if something
hadn't knocked me out."

"I know you. So I know there was a reason other than you
just thought it might be fun. What was it?"

She babbled. Years of holding everything together gave way. The
floods swept all before them.

The timing matched my assault on Kina. Lady's violent
reaction to Booboo could have been caused by fear leaking through
from the Goddess. Booboo's own behavior would have been
shaped the same way.

Lady sobbed for a long time. I held her. I feared for her. She
had fallen so far. And I had been ballast almost every foot of the
way down.

All my fault? Or just the spark and romance of youth's
summer turning to the bleak seasons of despair of old age?

Arkana was a good daughter. She stood by patiently throughout
the emotional storm. She remained there for me without intruding on
my wife's black hours. After we left I thanked her
profoundly.

"You think she'll be able to pull herself back
together?" Arkana asked.

"I don't know. I don't know how to make her
want to. If she did, I wouldn't have any worries. She's
got an iron will when she wants to direct it. Right now I'm
just going to try to keep on loving her and hoping something
happens to sting her with a spark of hope."

"I don't know if I could stand being completely
powerless, either. I might kill myself."

"Nine hundred ninety-nine people out of a thousand live
their whole lives without having a millionth of your power. And
they get by."

"Only because they're completely ignorant of what
they're missing. Nobody mourns losing what they never had in
the first place."

She had me there.

The full meaning of Lady's melancholy would be denied me
forever because I was never able to experience life as she had at
the opposite extreme. Whereas she knew my way of life very well
indeed.

And that might be contributing to her despair as well.


Chapter 138 

Taglios: The Lost Child

Booboo was worse
than Lady. She was lost inside herself. She had real guards
watching her. They told me she had not done anything but stare into
infinity since she recovered consciousness. Not once had they felt
any urge to serve her or ravish her.

One guard was a Shadar who had followed Sleepy since the
Kiaulune wars. He told me, "Suruvhija Singh and her children
are taking care of her."

I felt a slight twinge. Iqbal Singh's widow. Favored by
Sleepy. But I had been unaware that the family had survived the
fighting south of Taglios. I had been too centered on my own
preoccupations to look after the welfare of Company dependents.

The Daughter of Night was clean and well-groomed and had been
dressed carefully. She sat in a rocking chair, which was an unusual
piece of furniture in these parts. She was aware of nothing outside
the boundaries of her mind. She drooled on her pretty white sari,
which was only a shade paler than her near-albino skin. Someone had
placed a rag where it would catch the drool.

Speaking of albinos. The white crow had managed to arrive before
me. But it was being very careful not to piss me off these
days.

It had overheard enough, here and there, to suspect that I might
have a great deal of influence on its future.

Shivetya had given us an unbelievable amount of help in return
for our promise to end his stewardship of the glittering plain. I
meant to keep that promise. I try to keep all of the
Company's promises. Keeping our promises is what separates us
from people like the Radisha, who try to screw us rather than keep
their word when that seems inconvenient.

I circled Booboo twice. She gave no sign she was aware of me. I
knelt in front of her. Her eyes were open. Her pupils were tiny.
Her eyes did not track when I moved a finger back and forth in
front of them.

I backed off and considered options. Finally, I led Arkana into
the hallway, told her what I wanted to try and how she could
help.

We rejoined Booboo and the bird. Neither appeared to have moved
a muscle.

Arkana and I separated, each moving slowly, as though hoping to
drift around behind Booboo without being noticed. Once there we
just waited. And waited.

It is hard to be patient when you are Arkana's age.
Eventually she began to fidget. Which caused the occasional faint
whisper of motion, after which she would even stop breathing for a
while.

After a time so long even I began to get restless I signalled
Arkana forward. Doing her absolute best to remain totally silent
she dropped to her knees beside Booboo's right rocker, out of
sight behind the girl's right ear but with her face so close
Booboo might be able to feel the warmth of her presence. I did the
same on the left. Neither of us moved till my knees were about to
kill me. We tried to avoid breathing on the girl.

I nodded.

Arkana whispered, "Sosa, sosa," so softly that I
could not hear her. So softly that even someone who did hear the
words whispered directly into her ear would not be able to make
them out.

I have no idea why she chose to say that. I leaned closer so the
warmth of my presence would be a hint more obvious. I nodded.

"Sosa, sosa." No louder than before.

The skin on Booboo's neck twitched.

I smiled at Arkana, winked.

Treachery will out.

"Sosa, sosa."

Slowly, the girl began to turn her head toward Arkana, the child
within unable to restrain her curiosity.

It was not that she had been faking. Just that nothing obvious
was going to sneak past her palisade of despair.

I got up and drifted so she would not discover me without making
a special effort.

Arkana gave me a look which asked how I had known that Booboo
could be reached. I shrugged. Just intuition, I guessed. A
conviction that her curiosity could be wakened if it was teased
with sufficient subtlety.

But what now? How to hold her attention forcefully enough to
keep her from running away again?

Soon the girl was seeing and hearing us perfectly well. But
still she did not respond. Still she would not answer
questions.

She had no will to live. And I could see why. At no time had
there ever been anything in her life but Kina and the struggle to
release the Goddess. Never had there been anything but the quest to
bring on the Year of the Skulls.

Suruvhija appeared. I had not known her in the days when she and
her husband joined the Company. She might have been a beauty, then,
but I doubted it. She was not now. And none of her children made
you want to jump in and hug them. But they were good people, if
sad.

"You got her to wake up!" Suruvhija said.
"That's great."

"Now we need to keep her that way. Any ideas?"

"Why?"

We all turned to the girl.

I asked, "What?"

"Why do you trouble me? Release me. I have no reason to
live. There is no future. There will be no salvation and no
resurrection now. There will be no age of wondrous
rebirth."

She was wide awake now, but bleak, depressed. I dropped to my
knees in front of her, took her hands in an effort to keep her
engaged with the world outside her head.

"What does that mean? What you just said."

She seemed puzzled by the question. I spent a few minutes
demonstrating my ignorance of her faith. I hoped a chance to
explain might animate her.

I have not yet encountered a true believer who could resist an
opportunity to expostulate upon his particular truth. Booboo was
no exception, though she was a slow starter.

I did not interrupt until near the end. Until that point she did
not mention anything I had not heard before, somewhere, in some
version. "Excuse me," I said. "I think I missed
something. The Year of the Skulls isn't the end of the
world?"

Suruvhija's oldest boy, Bhijar, arrived with food and
drink. I made sure Booboo got served first. She sucked down a pint
of water before telling me, "Yes, it is the end of the world.
Of this world, the way it is now. It's a cleansing. A time
when all evil and corruption get swept away and only those souls
with a genuine chance of redemption get left on the Wheel of
Life."

I felt confused. I felt lost. I did not understand. I knew the
Deceivers wanted to hasten the coming of the Year of the Skulls.
That was pretty much what their cult was all about. I knew most
Gunni wanted the opposite, but believed that the coming of the Year
of the Skulls was inevitable. Someday. It was one of the Ages of
Creation, the Fourth Age, ordained at the dawn of time. But this
was the first I ever heard that there was supposed to be something
on the other side. Particularly something apparently positive.

I murmured to myself, "All evil dies there an endless
death." Then I asked, "You're telling me
Kina's ultimate task was to clear away all the human dross so
that good and righteous men can pass on to paradise?"

Exasperated by my density, she shook her head violently, then
went to work trying to explain.

I whispered to Arkana, "Have them bring my
wife."

I am not as dim as I pretended with my daughter that evening but
I admit I never did get what she was trying to explain. However, I
did realize that she truly believed that by destroying Kina I had
deprived the world of any opportunity to get past its current age
of sin and corruption into an age of enlightenment.

I guess Kina had been meant to devour all the demons again, only
this time those would have been the devils of human kind who make
life and history over into torture chambers.

The Lords of Light were going to have to take it from the top,
hatching themselves a whole new scheme for worldly redemption.
Assuming they were still around somewhere themselves.

Lady arrived, accompanied by Bhijar. She melted the moment she
saw that Booboo was awake.

I watched, numb, as she took my place on her knees in front of
the Daughter of Night. This was my wife? This clump of raw
sentimentality was the woman who used to be the Lady, once able to
inspire an entire empire with the terror of her name?

I did not listen. I have to admit that I was embarrassed by her
behavior. Because I had not realized that there was so much sloppy
emotion bottled up inside her. Around me Lady always clung to
shreds of her old image . . . whenever she was
not lost in her own realm of self-pity.

The whole scene seemed to amaze the Daughter of Night. She did
not know what to make of it.

Suruvhija became embarrassed, too. She hustled her brood out of
the room. The boys went quickly, unable to stand so much sentiment.
Suruvhija herself offered me a look of commiseration before she
shut the door.

I tried to tell Suruvhija I was thirsty. My throat was too dry.
I went after her. I stumbled as I crossed the room. Not that that
made any difference. Mental clumsiness was my real downfall.

I stepped into the corridor and called after Suruvhija,
"Please bring some more drinking water. We're all still
dry."

She nodded her understanding. She was embarrassed again, this
time because she was alone with a man who was not her husband. I
was about to say something to spare her when Arkana yelled at
me.

It took me a moment to get back through the doorway.

Booboo had a rumel, a Deceiver strangling scarf, wrapped around
her mother's throat. Her eyes were dark with the last ghost
of Kina. Her strength was, obviously, supernatural. Arkana was
having no luck breaking her hold. And that little blonde was no
weakling.

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.


Chapter 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.


Chapter 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.


Chapter 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.


Chapter 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.

Arkana 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.

I was five or six sleeps into my exile when the Nef returned,
first appearing inside my dreams.


Chapter 143 

Fortress with No Name: Sleeping with the
Demon

Soulcatcher kept
reminding me that she was in touch with the demon. That, in fact,
as long as she remained attached to the white crow she would be
little more than Shivetya's tool. This information did not
seem newsworthy or particularly important until I suffered the
visit from the Washene, the Washane and the Washone.

I had not been especially sensitive to them in the past. I knew
them better from description than encounter. This time around made
clear why that was.

Their ugliness invaded my dreams but only as a sense of presence
little more concrete than that of the Unknown Shadows. Golden
glimmers of hideous beast-mask faces in the corner of dream's
eye, and scattered single syllable fragments of attempted
communication, were all that I recalled after I awakened, sweating
and shaking and filled with undirected terror.

Shivetya's gaze, directed my way, seemed more amused than
ever.

I soon learned that his amusement had limits.

I had made him a promise. He could look inside me and see that I
intended to keep it. But he could also see that I meant to stall
for as long as it took me to arrange my own life to my
satisfaction.

He had been patient for ten thousand years. Now, suddenly, his
patience began to wilt.

I became aware of it first while I was sleeping. On a night when
the Nef were almost getting through, my dreams filled unexpectedly
with a presence that pushed in like a whale driving through a pod
of dolphins. A big, unseen thing that approached like the darkness
itself but without containing a thread of evil. Just a vast, slow
thing that was.

I knew what it was and understood that it was trying to make a
mind-to-mind contact the way it had with others before me. But my
mind had a hard shell around it. It was difficult for ideas to get
through.

Good thing Goblin and One-Eye were no longer around. They could
have gotten hours of joy out of a straight line like that.

A couple sleeps more, though, and my mind had become a sieve. Me
and Shivetya were yukking it up like a couple of old tonk buddies.
The white crow was put out because she did not have a job
translating anymore. I guess the demon had the sheer mental brute
force to make contact with anyone.

I learned from the golem in the way that Baladitya had learned
before me. I learned by being taken inside the demon's living
dream, where past was almost indistinguishable from present. Where
the wondrous pageant of the plain's history, and the history
of the worlds it connected, were all remembered, in as much detail
as Shivetya had cared to witness at the time. There was a great
deal about the Black Company. He had chosen the Company as the
instrument of his escape a very long time ago, long before Kina
chose Lady to become her instrument inside the enemy force and the
vessel that would birth the Daughter of Night, who was the intended
instrument of her own liberation. Long before any of us were the
least aware of all the pitfalls we were going to encounter on our
road to Khatovar. But Shivetya chose better than did Kina. The
Goddess failed to look closely enough at Lady's character.
Lady was too damned stubborn and selfish to be anyone's tool
for long.

There were just seven of us when some inexplicable urge made me
decide to retrace the Company's olden journeys. And of those
seven, now there is just me.

Soldiers live.

The Black Company is in Suvrin's hands now. Such as it is.
It is headed south now, according to Shivetya's dreams,
satisfactorily avenged, planning to cross the glittering plain back
to the Land of Unknown Shadows. There are only a handful of
Taglians and Dejagorans and Sangelis left to miss our world. The
Company will become a new thing in a new world. And pudgy little
Suvrin will be its creator.

Never before had there been anyone of the Black Company who had
survived so long that he could see how vast are the changes time
will sculpt even upon a band determined to stay one with its
past.

When my thoughts ranged those bleak marches Shivetya always
filled my head with ripples of amusement. Because those were almost
invisible changes when compared with those that he had witnessed in
his time. He had seen empires, civilizations, entire races, come
and go. He remembered the gods themselves, the ugly builders of the
plain, and all the powers that had come into and changed his estate
and then had faded away again. He even recalled a time when he was
not alone in the fortress with no name, a time when his devotion to
duty caused his mates to nail him to his throne so they could
desert without him interfering.

At long last I began to understand what had happened to Murgen
in those long ago days when he had had so much trouble clinging to
his place in time. Murgen was crazy, some, and Soulcatcher was
involved, some--those were the days when Soulcatcher had found her
way onto the plain--and Murgen never had a clue himself what was
happening but behind everything else was Shivetya, carefully
setting up his path into retirement. And, of course, Shivetya does
not see time like the rest of us. Unless we demand his attention
right here at the vanguard he floats everywhere, everywhen,
reexperiencing rather than remembering.

Gods, how I envied him! The entire histories of sixteen worlds
were his to know. Not just to study and interpret but pretty much
to live whenever the mood took him.

I did have a question. The question of supreme importance if I
was going to set the demon free. He had to answer it to my
satisfaction if he wanted me to fulfill our agreement.

What would happen to the glittering plain if he was no longer
here to manage it?


Chapter 144 

Fortress with No Name: Arkana's Tale

Shivetya was never
as powerful as Kina but he was a whole hell of a lot faster on his
mental feet. It had taken the sleeping Goddess years to impact the
world outside and create a vast paranoia concerning the Black
Company. Shivetya it took just weeks. It would not have taken that
long had he not reached out for a specific someone with a mind
shell thicker than mine: Shukrat.

The demon was disinclined to connect with Tobo. Tobo had been
his good buddy before but Tobo's behavior recently hinted at
potentially troublesome character flaws.

Shukrat finally began to get the idea that there might be a
problem causing the prolonged absence of Arkana and her beloved
adopted daddy. Even when she did start to worry, though, she did
not want to leave Tobo. Tobo was less popular with the Children of
the Dead than he was with the Unknown Shadows. The men from Hsien
might not give their utmost to pull him through.

The boy's health kept suffering one setback after another
complication. The fact that the army was moving would not help his
recovery.

Shivetya could show me the Company's southward progress.
And did regularly. But I would not look in on Lady. My wife's
condition was more grim than Tobo's. There was nothing I
could do about it but it upset me so I just did not go where the
pain was going to get me. Sometimes the blind eye is the least
terrible way of suffering what we cannot make right.

Then there was Arkana.

The little blonde had run off in accordance with her own stated
doctrine. Home to the world of the Voroshk. She used the key we had
brought to enter the plain to make her exit. Because Shivetya was
interested the once shattered Voroshk shadowgate was almost
completely whole again.

In Arkana's homeworld the war with the shadows continued,
but sporadically. The shadows had been reduced to a tenth of their
original number. The Voroshk had suffered as badly. Their world had
been all but destroyed. Not one in a hundred peasants had survived
an invasion so enthusiastic it is almost impossible to find a
shadow on the plain these days.

Shadows kill. They prefer people but will prey on anything they
run into. Even things you find under rocks. People are smart enough
to figure out ways to get through the night. Not much else can.

The few survivors in the Voroshk world were starving. They had
lost so many draft animals they could not plant. Their livestock
had all been taken, if not by the shadows then by the Voroshk
themselves. The Voroshk had no intention of sharing the common
suffering.

Arkana had gone, had seen, had changed her uncertain mind. This
was not what she wanted. But she had waited too long to turn
back.

She was seen. Family closed in fast. And deprived her of her
post and clothing. She became a prisoner of her relatives, who
began formulating big breeding plans immediately.

The shadowgate disaster had left the Voroshk with few women of
childbearing age.

Arkana got elected to become queen ant for a whole new mob.

She would do what she had to do to survive. She would bide her
time once again. Her uncles had confiscated her key to the
shadowgates but were unaware what it was. And she was not talking.
They were the sort of men who would abandon the disaster they had
created and go coursing off in search of new worlds to conquer. So
much easier than rebuilding.

It was a good thing Shivetya had power enough to will the
shattered gate to heal itself, though that might imply that the
nonfunctional gates had failed because of benign neglect. In fact,
recalling what Tobo and Suvrin had reported concerning their
explorations, all the shadowgates were crippled somehow.

Shivetya did not like anyone very much these days.

I let him know, "I have a couple of things left to
do." Since my mind was no longer a mystery, he knew what
already. And he did have a little patience left.

A pretty indulgent partner in crime, that old devil.


Chapter 145 

Glittering Stone: Then Shukrat Came

Shukrat arrived
while I was sleeping, dropping in through the hole in the roof. So
entangled with Shivetya was I now that I knew she was there without
noticing or paying much mind. My friend the white crow came and did
the wake-up dirty deed. I sat up, rewarding the bird with some rude
remark or other.

"Just trying to be helpful. You aren't leaving me
much to do these days."

"Funny how being a prisoner reduces your options,
isn't it? What goes around comes around and all that? But we
can still be friends, can't we? Hi, cuter daughter. You
finally got here."

Shukrat was exhausted but game. "So what's going on,
Pop? Where's Arkana?"

"Well. Arkana got a wild hair, ran off home and now is
knee-deep in shit." I explained.

Shukrat's reaction was, "Yuch!"

"Hey, you could be the most popular girl in town yourself
if you give them the chance."

"They might try. They'll be sorry if they do. I
didn't waste all my time with Tobo playing games. How come
you know all that if she took your key and you can't go out
poking around?"

"Shivetya and I have been getting to know one another.
There isn't much else to do around here when you're
waiting for your slower child to start wondering if you
haven't maybe gotten yourself into some trouble."

"I see you did some writing, too."

"I'm running short on time, daughter," I said,
revealing a secret never even shared with my wife.
"I've had so much luck, for so long, that the law of
averages is overdue to catch up. Any day. There's only one
risk left that I'm willing to take. So I want to have all my
shit in order before something happens. I want to check out knowing
I did everything the Company could ask, and then some." My
expectation that I do not have much time left has become an ever
more powerful influence on my thinking since our return from the
Land of Unknown Shadows. It has approached the level of obsession
since I have been back here in the fortress with no name.

Shukrat proceeded with normal, journey-ending business while we
talked, unloading her flying post. She swung down a large hemp sack
that rattled as she said, "Let me get some rest, first, then
we'll go rescue Scruffy Butt. Not because I give a damn what
they do to her, you understand. Just as a favor to my
Pop."

"I understand. I appreciate it. Maybe she can do the same
for you, someday."

"Oh, yeah, that would be good."

"What's in the sack?"

She thought about being evasive, realized that there was no
point. "Snail shells. Tobo didn't want me to travel
unprotected. He worries about me."

"How is he?"

"He has good days and he has bad days. More bad than good.
In his health and in his mind. It scares me. Nobody can tell me if
he's going to make it. Or if he'll be sane if he does.
I'm afraid it might all depend on his mother."

"What? Sahra turned up?"

"No. She's definitely dead. I think. But her ghost,
and her mother's ghost and her grandmother's ghost,
keep following him wherever he goes. Whenever his fever gets to him
he sees them. And they talk to him. They nag him, he says. He
doesn't like it. But my opinion is, he damned well ought to
start listening to them. Because he gets these brain fevers every
time he starts to do something that his mother wouldn't have
liked while she was alive. Even if it's only something like
forgetting to clean his teeth."

"You really believe he's being haunted by his female
ancestors?"

"Doesn't matter if I do, Pop. He believes it. Even
when he's fever-free and completely sane he'll say his
mother intends to stay around until he no longer needs her
guidance. Then she'll be free to join Murgen. Tobo really
resents the implication that he isn't mature and his behavior
is keeping her from her rest. And Sahra, apparently, is just as
resentful of his immaturity, because she'd rather be
somewhere besides here baby-sitting a grown man."

"Why do I get the feeling there's something
more?"

"Because you're right. There is more. He thinks
those women might run out of patience. He's afraid
they'll just drag him along with them."

"You mean kill him?"

"No! His mother, Pop. Not kill him. Take him along. Out of
his body. The way they say his father used to do. Only they
wouldn't let him come back. If that happened his body would
die eventually. And before you tell me Sahra wouldn't let her
baby die, you need to remember this ghost isn't the Sahra you
knew. This Sahra has been on the other side for a while, running
with ghosts who have been there a lot longer than she has. And at
least one of those was able to see Tobo's various potential
futures way back before Murgen and Sahra ever got
together."

Sounded to me like Shukrat was just as much a believer as Tobo
was.

"All right. Rest, little girl. I'll come up with a
plan while you do."

Look at me. Manly man. Older than dirt, limping, one bad eye,
short one hand, reads and writes, but a manly man for all that.


Chapter 146 

The Voroshk World: Stronghold Rhuknavr

The Voroshk
shadowgate was being watched from the other side. Shukrat's
uncles hoped she would find her way home, too, and they were eager
to obtain another breeder.

We did not work hard to avoid being discovered by the watchers.
But we did come by night and Shukrat did leak some of her most
unusual companions through to distract the sentries.

Tobo did not stint when he gave her Unknown Shadows to help her
out in her adventures down this way. Unlike when he gave me those
two wanna-be ravens that were never around and had not been seen
now in months. He assigned her some of the biggest, the darkest,
the smartest, that would stand by her and do what she said.

The Black Hounds darted around and over the two watchers,
keeping them from flying just long enough for us to get through the
shadowgate and add ourselves to the equation. Shukrat was able to
put them both to sleep despite the state of high excitement the
Unknown Shadows had aroused.

In moments we understood why.

"They're just kids!" I said, while undressing
one. "This one can't be more than eleven or
twelve."

The one Shukrat stripped was even younger. "These two are
the youngest Tologev brothers. Somebody really is desperate if
he's sending kids this young out alone when there're
still shadows roaming around."

I thought that was just fine. The thinner the Voroshk were
spread, the better.

The two boys we left behind, up in trees for their own safety.
We confiscated their posts and clothing.

It was a long flight. We did not show ourselves during the day.
Along the way Shukrat showed me the ruins of Khatovar. I did not
feel inclined to explore. I did not have time. There were changes
going on inside me. I had to hold them off until I got Arkana
free.

The white crow mocked me and accused me of cheating on Lady. She
refused to believe I was not. I no longer argued. She was still
bitter because she had not been able to take me away from her
sister.

Arkana was being held in a minor Voroshk fortress called
Rhuknavr. We flew in low, to within a mile, then awaited midnight
while floating high up in the tops of trees that were old when
Khatovar fell. We put out a dozen shadowtraps Shukrat had crafted
according to Shivetya's instructions. Once she released the
Unknown Shadows, though, the traps were not necessary.

At my insistence Shukrat made doubly sure that the
Unknown Shadows clearly understood we were about to butt heads
with people who had considerable experience dealing with creatures
of darkness. Their advantage over the killer shadows was that they
were not just driven clumps of hunger and hatred. They were cunning
and wicked and able to reason, although unfortunately weak on the
concept of cooperation.

I asked Shukrat, "You think we might have better luck in
the daytime, after everybody inside there relaxes?"

"They're not that alert. They haven't had an
incident here for a long time."

"How do you know that?"

"I just do. Now that I'm close enough to feel
them." Meaning, probably, that she was hiding the whispers of
the Unknown Shadows already.

"Uhm? Are you close enough for them to feel
you?"

"No. Because I'm alone. And because I'm
dressed. And because they aren't trying to feel for
me."

"I see." If it was not our unseen associates it must
be something like the way I had begun to sense Shivetya.
"Bird. Pay attention." It was not my intent to waste
any resource. The white crow was a valuable resource. "So
where is my other baby, Shukrat? Be as exact as you can because my
feathered friend needs to know how to get there to tell her that
we're coming and she should be ready to go."

The crow squawked like it had just found a snake raiding its
nest. It protested so vigorously that the surrounding night fell
into an uneasy silence.

"Good for you nobody in these parts would recognize
Taglian. What's the big squawk? You infiltrated how many
places at other times?"

The crow continued to mutter something to the effect of, that
was different. The difference mainly being whose idea the
infiltration was. She understood that I was getting real thick with
Shivetya, though, and the golem might have a great deal to say
about whether or not she ever got out of the cave of the ancients.
Once she got the frustration worked out she was ready to go.

I had Shukrat describe the interior of Rhuknavr the best she
could. Which was not that well. She had not been there in ten
years. The crow would have to locate Arkana on her own. Shukrat
could not pin her down.

I said, "You just tell her we're coming and she
should be ready. And, if she can manage it, she might put a sleep
spell on anybody near enough to touch."

The crow left. We waited. I stared at the sky. I found this one
far stranger than that of the Land of Unknown Shadows. There was no
large moon here, apparently. At least none tonight nor during the
nights I spent here before. But there were scores of little ones,
the biggest maybe a fifth the size of my own. All the moons seemed
terribly busy, scampering hither and yon. When I mentioned them to
Shukrat she began telling me about her world's unique breed
of astrology, which relied upon the motions of all those moons.
Even after ages of study those moons still presented the occasional
surprise.

"Once, when I was little, two of them banged off of each
other. None of the others have moved quite the same way since. And
it rained down pieces for years. Only about a hundred miles from
here there's a place where a really big piece hit. I was at
Junkledesag, which is over that way another eighty miles, and it
was still awful. There were earthquakes and noise like the end of
the world. There was a fire in the sky that took all night to fade
away. It was like when one of the rheitgeistiden explodes, only a
million times worse. It knocked a huge hole in the ground. Now the
hole is kind of a lake."

The white crow dropped out of the night.
"Ready."

"Easier than you expected, eh?"

The bird grunted sullenly.

"Show us the way, Fearless Feathered Explorer."


The next stage was anticlimactic. Only three or four actual
Voroshk occupied Rhuknavr. In behavior so human I do not know why I
did not foresee it, a small faction of survivors were concealing
Arkana's return from the rest. For what little advantage
controlling a viable breeder gave.

We left our posts nuzzling the fortress beside an unglazed
hall-end window. The interior was too tight for flight. The crow
showed the way to Arkana's chamber. There were no bars
anywhere but there was a sleeping, non-Voroshk sentry slumped on a
stool in the hallway. There had been a pretense that Arkana was a
guest.

The girl jumped on me the moment we entered. "I knew
you'd come."

"Did you?"

"I hoped you would. All right? I'm sorry. I was
stupid. I just wanted . . . I had
to . . . Thank you. Thank you. Thank
you."

"Why not save your talking until we're out of here?
The point of sending the bird ahead was so you'd be
ready." The critter named flapped out the room's one
small window.

She grabbed odds and ends. Not much. "I don't know
where my rheitgeistide and shefsepoke are."

"We brought something for you. Let's go."

All went well until we were sliding out the window. Then a
child, rubbing sleep from her eyes, wandered into the hallway,
presumably disturbed by some sound. She stared for a moment, then
folded, touched by a sleep spell from one of the girls.

Nothing happened immediately. But in time the child would tell
somebody. Unless she had a habit of sleepwalking.

Comfortably aloft and heading south, I asked Arkana, "Are
you pregnant?"

She took no offense. "No. They hadn't worked out who
got to be first. Though every time I turned around somebody was
trying to sneak in. Like they thought I couldn't possibly
resist them. I passed out enough bruises that even Gromovol
would've figured out that that kind of shit could get
somebody hurt--but these guys were real optimists."

She had been hanging out with the right people to learn how to
sucker a guy who thought girls ought to be easy prey. I said,
"I guess we can thank some god for that small
favor."

"You can thank Arkana for not putting up with their
shit."

"That's my delicate flower."

Soon after sunrise Shukrat spotted seven or eight protean black
dots bobbing in the air far behind us. "They're chasing
us, Pop."

I checked. "We climb up a little higher, we'll be
able to stay far enough ahead."

The girls agreed. But Arkana added, "There weren't
that many of the Family at Rhuknavr. They must've sent for
help from Junkledesag or Drasivrad. There aren't but fifteen
or sixteen of the Family left alive."

I said, "Just in case they do start pressing us, do either
of you have an objection to more of them getting hurt?"

Arkana gave me an unhappy look. Despite our hours aloft she was
not yet fully clad in apparel taken from one of the boy sentries at
the gate. Getting dressed is hard to do when you are riding one of
those posts and staying out of sight by skimming the treetops. Not
to mention that before she started changing she had to convince the
clothing that it now belonged to her, not the boy from the
shadowgate. "How do you expect to manage that, Pop?"
She sounded suspicious. And rightly so.

"Same way I got Kina. But you'll have to name me
names." I had the First Father's book with me. I had
taught myself enough of the Voroshk language to use the codes to
blow those guys out of the sky. If I knew who I was turning into a
cloud of dust.

"Don't do that. Not if you don't have
to."

I gave it a moment. Then, "If you can forgive them, then I
can."

"They never really did anything to me."

They would have but I did not belabor the point. Both of these
kids were too forgiving and too understanding for their own good.
Those guys back there would have done a whole lot of ugly to both
of them, given the chance. I know those kind of guys. I have been
those kind of guys.

Just for my own pleasure, privately, when the girls were not
paying attention, I tripped the codes that would kill
Arkana's post. We were too far from Rhuknavr for me to tell
if it worked. I hoped not, now. Because after I did it I remembered
the sleepy little girl in the hallway.

She would haunt me for a while.

It was closer than it really needed to be, us getting through
the shadowgate ahead of trouble. The key gave me some grief,
probably because I was in too much of a hurry.

"Now what?" Shukrat asked once we were safe from the
men and naked boys cursing us from the other side of the
barrier.

I said, "I guess you two can go back to the army.
I'm going to stay here. On the plain. With Shivetya.
There's a job I've got to do. A promise I have to
keep."

Nobody spoke again until we were close to the fortress with no
name. Then Shukrat asked, "What about Lady?"

"If she's in good enough health you can bring her
down here to me and I'll do what I can to help her. If
she's not, leave her the fuck alone. Her main problem is
she's got to heal herself."

Both girls looked at me like I was some really stinky monster
that had just popped up in the middle of a bunny farm ripping the
fur out of cute and tender throats.

"Look, I love my wife just one whole hell of a lot. There
isn't any way I can explain it to you. But the fact is, love
her is about all I can do. She's insane. By any standard but
her own. And there's nothing I can do to change that. If you
were familiar with the Annals you would know that."

Arkana sneered. "You don't ever give up, do
you?"

She caught me off balance that time. "Actually, no. I
wasn't thinking about finding somebody to keep the Annals. I
was trying to clarify my relationship with my wife."

But did I know what that was myself? Even after all these years?
Possibly more important, did she have any idea?

All that seemed to matter less and less as we drew closer to the
fortress with no name.


Chapter 147 

Fortress with No Name: Putting the Pen
Down

I stood before the
golem Shivetya, basking in his mild impatience. I was impatient
myself. But the distractions of the world still had their hold on
me.

That part of Gunni philosophy is solidly founded. Before you can
achieve more than the lowest possible order of spiritual focus you
have to learn to put all worldly distractions aside. All of them.
Right now. Never mind what. Otherwise there will always be that one
more critical thing that just absolutely has to be handled before
you can move forward.

My one more thing was Lady. My wife. Who continued to wobble on
the brink of the abyss without ever quite slipping over. To me it
was evident that the missing medicine now was any will to battle
on. And the white crow agreed with me.

"Let me work on her," the bird told me. "Ten
minutes and I'll have her so pissed off she'll melt
mountains trying to get close enough to spank me."

"No doubt. But I like things the way they are. Except for
how long it's taking."

Suvrin seemed to be taking forever making any headway coming
south. Though he was covering ground much faster than we had headed
north. Nobody was trying to slow him down.

I whiled my time exploring the expansive wonders of
Shivetya's memories--but avoiding those including Khatovar.
Khatovar was a dessert I meant to save until there were no
distractions at all. Khatovar was a special treat for a time when
every flavor could be savored.

Eventually, I yielded to the inevitable and sent the girls to
bring Lady to me. Maybe my big pal on the wooden throne could give
me a hint or two how to goose her into getting going again.

The Nef appeared almost as soon as the girls popped out of the
hole in the roof. They were in a black humor, eager for a fight,
and because I could not communicate with them my mood soon turned
just as dark. I hunted up One-Eye's spear. If it could handle
a Goddess it ought to be able to polish off three obnoxious,
nagging spooks.

Shivetya stopped me. He could communicate with the Nef. He
indicated that he would calm them down with an explanation of what
we were doing here. His liberation would not sentence them to
extinction. In fact, they were about to enter a new phase of
existence. They were going to get work maintaining the glittering
plain. There were scores of odd jobs and cleanups that needed
special attention.

Shivetya and I were now so connected I could see the plain in my
mind almost at will and the rest of the world, through his eyes,
with only a little more effort. For a while I watched the girls
race northward, each occasionally finding a moment to have fun
flying.

I slept for a few hours. Or a week. When I awakened I picked up
a lamp and walked over to the throne. I carried One-Eye's
spear under my other arm, on the bad hand side. Shivetya and I
stared at each other for a while.

"Is it time?" I asked. And, "You think
we're ready to manage without the daggers, now? Yeah? Just
one more little thing, then. I need to leave a note for my
girls." That turned into a letter. Trust the Annalist to go
on and on.

A very clear thought. Have you finished now? Are you certain you
are done?

"It's time."

My bridesmaids, the Nef, drifted in out of the darkness. They
seemed more substantial than ever before. They like me just fine,
now.

I am putting the pen down.


Chapter 148 

Glittering Stone: And the Daughters of Time

We saw lights from
way out. What was that? There are no lights on the glittering
plain. We climbed a thousand feet. By then the lights were gone
except for what came out of the hole in the dome over the top of
the demon's throne room. Before we got there that went away,
too.

Then we were too busy getting Lady and Tobo through the hole to
worry about anything else. Rheitgeistiden are trouble when their
riders are not helping.

When we got to the floor we found only one oil lamp burning on
that old man's--that scholar from Taglios's--worktable.
Croaker left a note. And, that clever old fart, he wrote it in our
language. Not very good, but good enough to understand.

I guess he did have the gift for tongues like he always
said.

Arkana took the lamp and used it to fire up a couple of
lanterns. We went off to look for Croaker. She said, "You
know, he was always teasing us but after a while I did start
feeling almost like he was my dad." We never ever talk about
our real fathers. We would never get along.

"Yeah. He looked out for you. Maybe more than you
know."

"You, too."

We found Croaker sitting beside the wooden throne. "Hey.
He's still breathing."

"I don't think . . . Shit. Look.
Those knives are all gone from the demon." Actually, they
were laying all over the floor.

So just then the demon's eyes open and so do
Croaker's and both of them look pretty confused and it is
only then that I really understand what Croaker was trying to tell
us in his letter. It was not some confused religious good-bye, he
just did not have enough of the right words to tell us that he and
the demon had it worked out to trade places. So Shivetya got to
become a mortal for as long as Croaker's body would last and
Croaker got to be a big, old, wise sea dragon swimming all around
in the ocean of history. So both of them got to go to heaven. And
the Nef were happy. And the plain went on. And the white crow kept
bitching, riding around on the Croaker body's shoulder. And
Arkana and I got in a running fight about who was going to go on
keeping the Annals, because both of us hate to write.

So we take turns. When the little tramp will get away from Tobo
long enough to pick up a pen and do her part.

A point she missed, probably because she is too dim to notice,
is that Lady is recovering. A while ago I saw her spinning tiny
fireballs. I think if there was some way she could make love to
that big monster over there she would do it three times a day.
Because it is from him that the power flows. It is, probably, the
best and most meaningful gift he has ever given her and with it she
can become anything she wants to be. Maybe even the young and
beautiful and romantically sorrowful and remote Lady of Charm
again.

But then he would have to turn Soulcatcher loose just to give
balance to the world.

I wonder if he was right when he said a thousand years from now
we might be the gods everyone remembers.

And I wonder what he might do about his daughter. His flesh
daughter. I think there is no hope for her because she has no hope
of her own, but I also think that if there is a hope, Pop will find
it.

Suvrin is looking impatient. He wants to hitch a ride down to
the Hsien shadowgate. He is not Aridatha Singh but he may have to
do.

I guess it is time to go see our new world. The Abode of Ravens.
The Land of Unknown Shadows. Shukrat says the names have a ring.
That it sounds like home to her.

I think home is what I carry around inside me. I am a snail with
the meat on the outside.

And it is Shukrat's damned turn to write. The sneaking,
slacking little bimbo.

Soldiers live. And wonder why.