The Many Deaths of the Black Company (Chronicle of the Black Company) (97 page)

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.

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.

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.