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.”
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.”