These Voroshk, who
actually introduced themselves—as Nashun the Researcher and the
First Father—both spoke the language of Juniper. Nashun the
Researcher had by far the best command. Neither had social skills
of a sort likely to put a smile on the face of many mothers. It was
clear that the demonstration of manners toward persons outside the
family was an exercise with which they had little familiarity.
After the introductions I stated the obvious. “You people
sure got yourselves into big trouble.”
You could feel the Voroshk closing their eyes and sighing inside
all that black material.
“We will survive,” the boss Voroshk declared. He
strained to keep anger and arrogance out of his voice. He had less
success with confidence, which made me wonder if he did not really
mean it.
“No doubt. What I saw of your family’s capabilities
impressed me. But honestly, you realize that your family’s
survival will require more than just fending off the
shadows.”
Nashun made a dismissive gesture with one gloved hand. “We
come to you because we want our children back.”
He spoke clearly and slowly enough that Lady caught that. She
made a surprised little noise that might have been half a
laugh.
“You’re out of luck. They may prove useful. Nor have
we any incentive to give them back.”
Their anger seemed a palpable force.
Tobo felt it. He said, “Warn them that any power they use
to try to break through will bounce back at them. Tell them that
the harder they try the worse they’ll get hurt.”
I translated. Our visitors were not impressed by anything a boy
said. Neither did they experiment. They did recall events at their
own shadowgate. The Researcher said, “We are prepared to make
an exchange.”
“What do you have to trade?”
“You still have people on this plain.”
“Go for it. They’re covered. When the dust settles
you’ll be picking up dead family members.” Of that I
was confident. Because Tobo trusted Shivetya completely.
“You’re powerful but ignorant. Like an ox. You
don’t know the plain. It’s alive. It’s our
ally.”
Smoke should have rolled out of their ears. Goblin sometimes did
that in the old days. But these men had no sense of humor.
Their desperation overcame their anger.
“Explain,” Nashun hissed.
“You know nothing about the plain but you’re
arrogant enough to believe that your power will be supreme there.
In a realm of the gods. Evidently you don’t even know your
own world’s history. The people you’re facing, that you
believe you can threaten, are spiritual descendants of soldiers
sent out from Khatovar five hundred years ago.”
“What happened before the Voroshk does not signify.
However, you demonstrate ignorance of your own.”
“It is of consequence. You want something from the last
Free Company of Khatovar. And you don’t have anything to
offer in exchange. Except, possibly, that disdained history and a
little contemporary knowledge.”
Neither man commented.
Lady told me, “Ask them why they want these kids back so
bad. They’re safe over here.”
I asked.
“They are family,” the First Father said.
His voice had a quality which made that seem not only plausible
but possibly even true.
I said, “They’re a long way away. They’ve been
travelling northward steadily since they arrived. One is deathly
ill.”
“They have their rheitgeistiden. They can get down here in
a few hours.”
“I think this guy is for real,” I told Lady.
“He’s really got some mad-ass notion that I’d
give those kids their toys and turn them loose, just on his say-so.
They sure don’t have to work to survive in
Khatovar.”
The Researcher picked up the one word. “I mentioned your
ignorance. Listen, Outsider. Khatovar is not our world. Khatovar
was one city of darkness, where damned souls worshipped a Goddess
of the night. That evil city was expunged from the earth before the
Voroshk arose. Its people were hunted down and exterminated. They
have been forgotten. And they will remain forgotten. Never will any
Soldier of Darkness be permitted to return.”
Once upon a time, on a lazy day, ages before he had become the
vessel he was now, Goblin had told me that I would never get to
Khatovar. Never. It would forever remain just beyond the horizon. I
could get closer and closer and closer but I would never arrive. So
I had imagined I had set foot in Khatovar. But I had only been to
the world where Khatovar had existed once upon a time.
“Time itself has evened the score. That which Khatovar
sent out came back. And the world that killed Khatovar will
die.”
“Did you catch that?” Lady asked.
“Huh? Catch what?”
“He used the world evil. We don’t hear that much in
this part of the world. People don’t believe in
it.”
“These guys aren’t from this part of the
world.” I returned to the language of Juniper. “Given a
complete, working breakdown on the construction and operation of
your flying logs, and of the material from which your clothing is
made, I’d say we could give you what you want.”
Lady did her best to keep the others up-to-date on what was
being said. She did not always get it right.
Nashun the Researcher could not grasp the enormity of my demand.
He tried speaking three different times, failed, finally turned to
the First Father in mute appeal. I was sure his hidden face was
taut with despair.
I told my guys, “It might be wise to back away from the
shadowgate. These people are about out of patience.”
I felt wonderfully wicked. I always do when I frustrate overly
powerful, responsible-to-no-one types who think all existence was
created only for their pleasure and exploitation.
I told the Voroshk, “It’ll be dark soon. Then the
shadows will come out.” And, as the Voroshk exchanged
glances, I borrowed from Narayan Singh. “When dealing with
the Black Company you would do well to remember: Darkness always
comes.”
Lady’s expression was one of less than one hundred percent
approval when I turned away. “That could’ve gone
better.”
“I let my feelings intrude. I should know better. But talk
wasn’t going to get us anywhere, anyway. They think too much
of themselves and too little of everyone else.”
“Then you’re giving up the dream of returning to
Khatovar.”
The Voroshk made their first furious attempt to bust through the
shadowgate.
I did warn them.
They did not want to listen.
It was worse than I had imagined it could be.
It was worse than Tobo had predicted.
The countermagical blast hurled both sorcerers all the way up
the slope to the edge of the plain, bouncing and tumbling all the
way. By some miracle neither broke the barrier protecting the road.
Maybe Shivetya was watching over then.
One still had shown no sign of recovering when I gave up
watching. I told Tobo, “I reckon it’s time to go, now.
Those guys might have gotten the message this time.”
I did not look back. The trials the Voroshk faced left me
confident that they would never become a problem to my world.
As we descended the hill I asked, “Anybody think there
might be a connection between the Shadowmasters and the Voroshk?
They seem to have gotten their start about the right time. And the
Shadowmasters tried to sever all connections with the past in
Hsien. It was just too big a job. I wonder what we’d find out
if we talked to some ordinary farming stiff over there?”
“I can ask Shivetya,” Tobo said. “And the
prisoners.” But he did not sound particularly motivated.
These Voroshk, who
actually introduced themselves—as Nashun the Researcher and the
First Father—both spoke the language of Juniper. Nashun the
Researcher had by far the best command. Neither had social skills
of a sort likely to put a smile on the face of many mothers. It was
clear that the demonstration of manners toward persons outside the
family was an exercise with which they had little familiarity.
After the introductions I stated the obvious. “You people
sure got yourselves into big trouble.”
You could feel the Voroshk closing their eyes and sighing inside
all that black material.
“We will survive,” the boss Voroshk declared. He
strained to keep anger and arrogance out of his voice. He had less
success with confidence, which made me wonder if he did not really
mean it.
“No doubt. What I saw of your family’s capabilities
impressed me. But honestly, you realize that your family’s
survival will require more than just fending off the
shadows.”
Nashun made a dismissive gesture with one gloved hand. “We
come to you because we want our children back.”
He spoke clearly and slowly enough that Lady caught that. She
made a surprised little noise that might have been half a
laugh.
“You’re out of luck. They may prove useful. Nor have
we any incentive to give them back.”
Their anger seemed a palpable force.
Tobo felt it. He said, “Warn them that any power they use
to try to break through will bounce back at them. Tell them that
the harder they try the worse they’ll get hurt.”
I translated. Our visitors were not impressed by anything a boy
said. Neither did they experiment. They did recall events at their
own shadowgate. The Researcher said, “We are prepared to make
an exchange.”
“What do you have to trade?”
“You still have people on this plain.”
“Go for it. They’re covered. When the dust settles
you’ll be picking up dead family members.” Of that I
was confident. Because Tobo trusted Shivetya completely.
“You’re powerful but ignorant. Like an ox. You
don’t know the plain. It’s alive. It’s our
ally.”
Smoke should have rolled out of their ears. Goblin sometimes did
that in the old days. But these men had no sense of humor.
Their desperation overcame their anger.
“Explain,” Nashun hissed.
“You know nothing about the plain but you’re
arrogant enough to believe that your power will be supreme there.
In a realm of the gods. Evidently you don’t even know your
own world’s history. The people you’re facing, that you
believe you can threaten, are spiritual descendants of soldiers
sent out from Khatovar five hundred years ago.”
“What happened before the Voroshk does not signify.
However, you demonstrate ignorance of your own.”
“It is of consequence. You want something from the last
Free Company of Khatovar. And you don’t have anything to
offer in exchange. Except, possibly, that disdained history and a
little contemporary knowledge.”
Neither man commented.
Lady told me, “Ask them why they want these kids back so
bad. They’re safe over here.”
I asked.
“They are family,” the First Father said.
His voice had a quality which made that seem not only plausible
but possibly even true.
I said, “They’re a long way away. They’ve been
travelling northward steadily since they arrived. One is deathly
ill.”
“They have their rheitgeistiden. They can get down here in
a few hours.”
“I think this guy is for real,” I told Lady.
“He’s really got some mad-ass notion that I’d
give those kids their toys and turn them loose, just on his say-so.
They sure don’t have to work to survive in
Khatovar.”
The Researcher picked up the one word. “I mentioned your
ignorance. Listen, Outsider. Khatovar is not our world. Khatovar
was one city of darkness, where damned souls worshipped a Goddess
of the night. That evil city was expunged from the earth before the
Voroshk arose. Its people were hunted down and exterminated. They
have been forgotten. And they will remain forgotten. Never will any
Soldier of Darkness be permitted to return.”
Once upon a time, on a lazy day, ages before he had become the
vessel he was now, Goblin had told me that I would never get to
Khatovar. Never. It would forever remain just beyond the horizon. I
could get closer and closer and closer but I would never arrive. So
I had imagined I had set foot in Khatovar. But I had only been to
the world where Khatovar had existed once upon a time.
“Time itself has evened the score. That which Khatovar
sent out came back. And the world that killed Khatovar will
die.”
“Did you catch that?” Lady asked.
“Huh? Catch what?”
“He used the world evil. We don’t hear that much in
this part of the world. People don’t believe in
it.”
“These guys aren’t from this part of the
world.” I returned to the language of Juniper. “Given a
complete, working breakdown on the construction and operation of
your flying logs, and of the material from which your clothing is
made, I’d say we could give you what you want.”
Lady did her best to keep the others up-to-date on what was
being said. She did not always get it right.
Nashun the Researcher could not grasp the enormity of my demand.
He tried speaking three different times, failed, finally turned to
the First Father in mute appeal. I was sure his hidden face was
taut with despair.
I told my guys, “It might be wise to back away from the
shadowgate. These people are about out of patience.”
I felt wonderfully wicked. I always do when I frustrate overly
powerful, responsible-to-no-one types who think all existence was
created only for their pleasure and exploitation.
I told the Voroshk, “It’ll be dark soon. Then the
shadows will come out.” And, as the Voroshk exchanged
glances, I borrowed from Narayan Singh. “When dealing with
the Black Company you would do well to remember: Darkness always
comes.”
Lady’s expression was one of less than one hundred percent
approval when I turned away. “That could’ve gone
better.”
“I let my feelings intrude. I should know better. But talk
wasn’t going to get us anywhere, anyway. They think too much
of themselves and too little of everyone else.”
“Then you’re giving up the dream of returning to
Khatovar.”
The Voroshk made their first furious attempt to bust through the
shadowgate.
I did warn them.
They did not want to listen.
It was worse than I had imagined it could be.
It was worse than Tobo had predicted.
The countermagical blast hurled both sorcerers all the way up
the slope to the edge of the plain, bouncing and tumbling all the
way. By some miracle neither broke the barrier protecting the road.
Maybe Shivetya was watching over then.
One still had shown no sign of recovering when I gave up
watching. I told Tobo, “I reckon it’s time to go, now.
Those guys might have gotten the message this time.”
I did not look back. The trials the Voroshk faced left me
confident that they would never become a problem to my world.
As we descended the hill I asked, “Anybody think there
might be a connection between the Shadowmasters and the Voroshk?
They seem to have gotten their start about the right time. And the
Shadowmasters tried to sever all connections with the past in
Hsien. It was just too big a job. I wonder what we’d find out
if we talked to some ordinary farming stiff over there?”
“I can ask Shivetya,” Tobo said. “And the
prisoners.” But he did not sound particularly motivated.