Soldiers Live (17 page)

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.

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.