Water Sleeps (33 page)

T he warning horn sounded deep in the night, when even those who were stuck with
guard duty were at their most sluggish. But the man on horn duty was married to
his job. He kept blowing and blowing. In minutes our entire encampment was
seething. And I was out there with my heart in my throat, striding along, making
sure the chaos was only apparent, not real. Everyone remained calm and focused.

There was no panic. I was pleased. Even a little training and discipline are
better than none.

I ducked into Goblin’s tent. Sahra and Tobo were there already and not at one
another’s throats. I must have gotten through to the kid. I should keep after
them both. In my copious free time. I bent close to the mist projector. “What’s
the word?”

Murgen whispered, “Soulcatcher is airborne and moving south. She plans to arrive
shortly after sunrise. She has a good idea where you are. During her rest time
she sent a shadow down to scout your position. She didn’t learn a lot more. The
shadow didn’t dare get close enough to eavesdrop. She plans to don one of her
disguises and infiltrate your camp so she can find out what you’re really up to.

From the beginning, she’s operated under the assumption that we’re dead out
here. Even though she didn’t kill us directly when she trapped us. She flew out
of there believing we’d be dead in just a few days. I expect learning that
Croaker and Lady are still alive is going to be the kind of shock that ruins her
whole century.”

“How fast is she moving? Strike that. You said she’d get here just after
sunrise. Is Mogaba with her?” That would make a big difference in how fresh she
would be when when she arrived. Which would determine the shape of what I
started doing now.

“No. If she manages to get in among you and unearths all the answers to the
questions she has, she’ll smash you, scatter you, grab the Key, then go back for
the Great General.” Murgen sneered when he used Mogaba’s title. The fact that we
never beat him once, heads up, during the Kiaulune wars, did nothing to ease our
contempt for him as a deserter and traitor.

“Warn me if she does anything unexpected. Sahra, have you checked on your
mother?”

“Briefly. Doj and JoJo are helping her and One-Eye. I think she was a little
delirious. She kept muttering about a noose and a land of unknown shadows and
calling the heaven and earth and the day and the night.”

“All evil dies there an endless death.”

“That, too. What is it?”

“I don’t know. A phrase I picked up somewhere. It has to do with the plain but I
don’t know what. Doj might be able to tell you. He promised to be cooperative
and forthcoming but since I passed on his offer to make me his apprentice, that
hasn’t materialized. My fault as much as his, probably. I haven’t taken time to
press him. I have work to do.” I ducked out.

The excitement had become more rigorously organized. There were torches and
lanterns to light the road to the Shadowgate. A band of our bravest were up near
the gate already, arranging more lighting and fine-tuning the colored powders
used as road marks. Loaded animals were beginning to line up. Likewise a train
of carts. Babies cried, children whined, a dog barked without pause. Sounds of
men slipping through the darkness beyond the light came from all around.

Prisoners who had been sure we meant to drag them onto the plain to become human
sacrifices were being chivied toward the New Town. Some of the harder men had
wanted to use them as bearers instead of the animals, disposing of them as their
usefulness ended. I had demurred. They would become obstinate and obstreperous
after the first few died and we would not be able to eat them after we ate up
the consumables they carried. Not that the majority of us would eat flesh
anyway. But those who could would from the beginning.

I spied Willow Swan strolling through the mob. He spun off orders like a drill
instructor. I approached him. “Gone nostalgic for the good old days when you
were the boss Grey?”

“A true genius, whose name we won’t bring up in present company, sent all the
master sergeants to make preparations at the Shadowgate. She didn’t detail
anybody to keep things moving down here.”

The unnamed genius had to admit that he was right. River, Runmust, Spiff, all
the men I had known the longest and trusted the most, were up there or somewhere
out in the darkness. I guess I just assumed Sahra and I could handle everything
else. Forgetting that I would be sprinting around making decisions for everyone
who could not make up their minds for themselves. “Thanks. If I don’t get a
better offer by my fortieth birthday, I’ll marry you yet.”

Swan made a halfhearted effort to click his heels. “So. How old are you today?”

“Seventeen.”

“That’s about what I guessed. With maybe another twenty years of experience,

plus wear and tear.”

“It’s tough being a teenager today. Just ask Tobo. Nobody’s ever had it as awful
as he does.”

He chuckled. “Speaking of kids, who’s handling the Daughter of Night? Which I
don’t want to be me.”

“Darn! I figured Goblin and Doj for that. But Goblin’s tied up helping keep
track of Soulcatcher, and Doj has Gota and One-Eye to worry about. Thanks for
reminding me.” I headed back toward Goblin’s tent. “Hey, Short Wart! Leave it to
Tobo and Sahra a while. We got to get the Daughter of Night loaded up.”

Goblin came out muttering, surveyed the excitement, grumbled, “All right. Let’s
get at it. Only, how come the fuck we never gave her a name? So what if she
don’t want one. She don’t want to live in no cage, either. Even Booboo would be
easier than calling her Daughter of Night all the time. Whoa! What the fuck is
that?” He stared past me, downhill.

I turned, saw a pair of red eyes bobbing in the darkness, coming closer fast. I
grabbed for my sword. Then I frowned as I heard the hoofbeats. Then I said,

“Hey, buddy! Is that you? What the heck are you doing here? I thought you had
yourself a job working for the traitor.”

The old black stallion stepped close, lowered its head to nuzzle the hair beside
my right ear. I hugged it around the neck. We had been friends once upon a time
but I had not thought we were so close that it would desert Mogaba and track me
down over hundreds of miles once it discovered that I was still alive. The
creatures had been created to serve the Lady of the Tower but were supposed to
be used to passing from one secondary master to another. This one had been
Murgen’s before it had become mine, then I had lost it.

“You ought to get out of here,” I told it. “Your timing’s really lousy.

Soulcatcher is going to be all over us in just a few hours. If we’re not already
up there on that plain.”

The horse surveyed my companions and what it could see of the Company,

shuddered. Then, turning its gaze on Swan, the stallion managed a very human
snort.

I patted its neck. “I’m not sure I don’t agree with you, but Willow does have
his redeeming qualities. He just keeps them well hidden. Go ahead and tag along
if you want. I’m not riding. Not without a saddle.”

Swan chuckled. “So much for the conquering Vehdna horsemen whose pride disdained
both saddles and stirrups.”

“Admitting no shortcomings of my own, I still have to observe that most of those
proud horsemen were over six feet tall.”

“I’ll find you a ladder. And promise never to say a word about how those proud
conquerors fared as soon as they ran into cavalry who did favor saddles and
stirrups.”

“Bite him, buddy.”

To my amazement, the stallion snorted and nipped at Willow’s shoulder. Swan
leaped back. “You always did have a temper and bad manners, half-ass.”

“Might be the company.”

“Far be it from me to interfere with your sparking, Crowhunter,” Goblin said,

“but I thought you had a notion to do something with Booboo.”

“Sarcastic, eavesdropping mudsucker. I did, didn’t I? And I overlooked our old
pal Khusavir Pete, too. I haven’t checked in on him lately, either. Is he still
healthy?” The horse nuzzled me again. I patted its neck. Maybe it felt more
nostalgic about our good old days than I did.

“I can check. You definitely overlooked him in your master plan.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t. Not a bit. I have a very special mission cooked up specially
for Khusavir Pete. And if he pulls it off, not only will he get to stay alive,

I’ll forgive everything he did at Kushkhoshi.”

Somebody shouted. A scarlet fireball blistered across the night. It missed its
target. It did not miss a tent, however. Then another tent after that, then the
crude wooden barracks the men had built while they were waiting for me to
arrive. All three began to smolder.

“That was Narayan Singh,” Willow Swan said, stating what two-score people had
seen during the carmine instant. “And he had Booboo—”

“Can it, Swan.” I started yelling at everyone nearby, trying to organize a
pursuit.

Goblin told me, “Calm down, Sleepy. All we need to do is wait till she starts
screaming, then go pick her up.”

I had forgotten the incredible array of control spells attached to the Daughter
of Night. Her pain would increase geometrically as she moved farther away from
her cage. Then at some distance known only to Goblin and One-Eye, choke spells
would kick in and tighten rapidly. Narayan could take her away from us but only
at the cost of killing her. Unless . . .

I asked.

“The spells have to be taken off from outside. She could be her mother and
sister, the Shadowmasters and the Ten Who Were Taken all rolled into one and
she’d still have to have somebody else help her get loose.”

“All right. Then we’ll wait for the screams.”

There were no screams. Not then or ever.

Murgen looked hard. He could find no sign. Kina was dreaming strongly,

protecting her own. Goblin remained adamant that they had to be close by, that
there was no way the Daughter of Night had shed her connection to her cage.

I told Swan, “Then you gather up some men and drag that cage up to the
Shadowgate. We’ll make her follow us.”

The warning horn sounded again. Soulcatcher had crossed the summit. She was on
our side of the Dandha Presh. There were hints of light in the east.

It was time to leave.

A brutal argument was under way aboard Soulcatcher’s carpet as she approached
her destination, skimming the rocks, the sun’s blinding fires behind her. Part
of her wanted to forget about assuming a disguise and infiltrating the enemy.

That part wanted to arrive as a killing storm, destroying everything and
everyone that was not Soulcatcher. But by doing that she would expose herself to
the counterefforts of people who had shown themselves very resourceful in the
past. Innovation was one of the more irksome traditions of the Black Company.

She grounded the carpet and stepped off, concealed it using a minor spell. Then
she crept toward the Company encampment, a few yards at a time, until she found
a good hiding place where she could undertake the illusion creations and modest
shapechanges that would render her unrecognizable. That work required total
concentration.

Back in the brush, not far from where she had set down, Uncle Doj crept forward
and after having used his small wizard’s skills to make sure there were no booby
traps, demolished Soulcatcher’s flying carpet in a straightforward, no-nonsense
manner using a hatchet. He might be old and a step slower, but he was still very
quick and very sneaky. He was almost all the way back to the Shadowgate when
Soulcatcher appeared, looking the epitome of scruffy young manhood.

A white crow, balanced precariously in a bit of rain-hungry brush, observed her
passage. When she could no longer glance back and see anything damning, the bird
flapped into the place where she had changed and started going through the
clothing and whatnot she had left behind. The bird kept making noises like it
was talking to itself.

Soulcatcher entered the encampment where she had expected to find the remnants
of the Black Company. It was empty. But up ahead she saw a long column already
beyond the Shadowgate. One man with a sword across his back had not passed
through the gate yet but he was moving swiftly, and a number of people were
waiting for him just on the other side.

They did have the Key! And they had used the damned thing! She should have
gotten here faster! She should have attacked! Dammit, everyone knew subtlety was
no good with these people. Hey! They had to have known that she was coming.

There was no other explanation for this. They had known she was coming and they
knew where she was now and . . .

The first fireball was so accurately directed that it would have taken her head
off if she had not been getting down already. In another moment the damned
things were streaking in from several different sources. They set brush afire
and shattered rocks. She got down on her stomach and crawled. Before she worried
about her dignity, she had to get away from the focal point of the fire.

Unfortunately, her efforts did not seem to matter. The assassins seemed to know
exactly where she was and her disguise did not fool them for an instant.

As a swarm of fireballs closed in, she flung herself into a deep hole that had
been a cesspit not that long ago. No matter. Right now shelter was priceless.

Now the snipers could not get her without coming out of hiding and coming to
her.

She took advantage of the respite to engineer, prepare and launch a
counterattack. That involved a lot of color and fire and boiling, oily
explosions, none of which did much harm because her surviving attackers had fled
through the Shadowgate as soon as she went into the pit.

She climbed out. Nothing happened. She glared up the hill. So. Even the snipers
were beyond the Shadowgate now. Nearly a dozen people were standing around
there, waiting to see what she would do. She calmed herself. She could not let
them goad her into doing something stupid. The Shadowgate was in extremely
delicate shape. One angry, thoughtless move on her part might damage it beyond
repair.

She conquered the rage that threatened to conquer her. She was ancient in her
wickedness. Time was an intimate ally. She knew how to abide.

She limped uphill, urging her anger to bleed off in movement, with an ease no
normal being could manage.

The slope immediately below the Shadowgate was covered with swaths and patches
of colored chalk. A carefully marked safe path passed through. Soulcatcher did
not yield to temptation and try to follow it. There was a chance that they had
forgotten that she had gone this way before. Or perhaps they refused to believe
she could recall that in those days the safe path had entered the Shadowgate
eight feet farther west, just beyond that rusty, twisted iron cage lying on its
side as though it was exhausted and dying. She waved a finger. “Naughty,

naughty.”

Willow Swan—damn his treacherous, should-be-dead bones!—and the Nyueng Bao
family stared back impassively. The pale-faced little wizard Goblin smirked,

obviously remembering whose fault it was that she could no longer walk normally.

And the ugly little woman smiled evilly. She said, “I wasn’t trying to suck you
in, Sweet Stuff. I did suck you in.” She lifted a hand and raised a middle
finger in a sign obviously learned from a northerner. “Water sleeps, Protector.”

What the hell did that mean?