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.
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.