The Taglian field
army slowly assembled astride the Rock Road in lightly settled
country midway between Dejagore and the fortified crossings over
the River Main at Ghoja. Another, less powerful force, consisting
of troops from the southern provinces, assembled outside Dejagore.
And a third gathered outside Taglios itself. There seemed no reason
to suspect that the force at Dejagore should have any trouble
denying that city to a force such as that the Black Company was
bringing up. Mogaba expected his enemies to swing west once they
descended from the highlands, possibly marching as far as the
Naghir River, which they could follow north, then swing eastward
again and try to get over the Main at one of the lesser downriver
crossings. He intended to let them march and march and wear
themselves down. He intended to let them do whatever they wanted
till he slammed the door shut behind them. Once he had them north
of the Main he could build a ring around them and slowly
squeeze.
The Great General was feeling quite positive. Taglios was
restive but not rebellious. Even the most remote garrison
commanders were bringing their soldiers to the assembly points with
their units at near strength even though some harvesting would
commence in the far south before the end of the month.
Harvest season inevitably precipitated higher desertion
rates.
Best of all, the Protector was staying away. Her tinkering and
interference always made his task more difficult. And, of course,
it was always his fault when a bastardized plan fell apart.
The Great General gathered his senior staff and inner circle,
which included a dozen generals as well as Ghopal and Aridatha
Singh. He told them, “The plan appears to be coming together
perfectly. With a couple of nudges and timed withdrawals I think we
can lead them to the ford at Vehdna-Bota. I still wish we had
better communications with the Protector. But she can’t find
enough crows anymore. Some plague is wiping them out. I seldom hear
from her more than once a day. And then, often as not, she’ll
waste time on weather news or a flu epidemic in
Prehbehlbed.” Nor were there any shadows about, nor any of
the Protector’s lesser spies. Mogaba did not mention that.
Taglians were dedicated conspirators. Let them continue to think
that there might be eyes in the corners, watching.
Only his own conspiracy need go forward.
The Great General had more to preoccupy him than how to isolate
and destroy his enemy. He suspected there was a definite question
about the identity of Taglios’ most dangerous foe.
Something about this incarnation of the Black Company had
Soulcatcher so concerned that she insisted on focusing all her
attention there. Something about this incarnation of the Black
Company had touched almost everyone of substance within the Taglian
empire, though news of their return had barely had time to spread
and there were no eyewitness reports available at all. All
customary enmity and internal friction seemed to be dwindling at a
time when, normally, factionalism should be exploding as old
antagonists tried to use the situation to their advantage.
And Mogaba had found that he was thinking less and less about
the practicalities of eliminating the Protector, more and more
obsessively about destroying the Black Company. Not just defeating
them but obliterating them. To the last man, woman, child, horse,
mule, flea and louse.
After decades of unhappy fortune Mogaba was naturally wary of
everything—including his own emotional state.
He had begun keeping a personal journal the day he had made the
decision to betray Soulcatcher, to track his thoughts and emotions
during the subsequent, stressful days. It was a journal he opened
only in brilliant sunlight. It was a journal he would destroy
before actually taking action against the Protector because there
were names in it he did not want betrayed if he failed—and was
lucky enough to die before she captured him.
Lately he had noticed an evolution in his thinking about the
Company. An accelerating evolution. A frightening evolution.
He had become suspicious of his own reason.
Following a general meeting to consider policy for the empire
the Great General met with the men responsible for the capital
city.
“Kina is active again,” Mogaba murmured. Ghopal and
Aridatha listened politely. He was referencing events from before
their time, that they knew only by repute. “She’s doing
that thing where she gradually shapes everyone’s
prejudices.”
They offered him blank looks.
“Not history buffs, eh?” Mogaba explained.
“The strangest part was, nobody ever wondered why they were
terrified. They just didn’t remember that three years earlier
they’d never heard of the Black Company.”
Ghopal said, “What you’re saying is, the Strangler
Goddess has a particular fear of the Black Company. She wants the
whole world to climb all over them and destroy them. Even if blood
has to be spilled.”
“Isn’t this an interesting quandary,” Aridatha
said. “If we can overcome the Black Company, we’ll
still have to deal with the Protector. If we knock her down, too,
then we’ll still have to handle the Stranglers and Kina, in
order to prevent the Year of the Skulls. Wave after wave. No end to
it.”
“No end to it,” Mogaba agreed. “And I’m
getting to be quite an old man.” He had begun to nurture an
outrageous notion almost as soon as he had determined that he was
being manipulated. “There are a couple of old records I want
to check. I want you both back here same time tomorrow.”
The Great General did not lack courage. The next evening he led
Ghopal and Aridatha into the brightly lit room. He presented a more
convincing case for his belief that Kina had awakened, drawing
heavily upon excerpts from copies of Black Company Annals residing
in the national library.
Aridatha Singh said, “I believe you. I just wonder what
happened to wake her up again.”
“Ghopal?”
“I’m not sure I understand. But I don’t think
I have to. Aridatha does. I trust his wisdom.”
“Then I’ll talk to Aridatha. But you listen.”
Mogaba chuckled.
Aridatha listened to his idea, the reasoning behind it, frowning
all the while. Ghopal seemed aghast. But he kept his mouth shut.
Aridatha went off alone with his thoughts. After a while he nodded
reluctantly and said. “I have a brother in Dejagore.
I’ll find a reason to go visit. I know some people who might
listen to what you have to say if it’s me doing the
talking.”
“What?”
Aridatha said, “You recall a few years ago when the
Company underground here started kidnapping people? Willow Swan,
the Purohita, and so on? I was one of the people they
snatched.”
Ghopal wanted to know why, and Mogaba wondered how he had gotten
away.
“I got away because they let me go. They only picked me up
because they wanted to show me off to somebody they were holding
already.” Aridatha took a long, deep breath and revealed his
great secret. “My father. Narayan Singh. They were showing
him their power.”
“Narayan Singh? The Narayan Singh? The Strangler?”
Ghopal asked.
“That Narayan Singh. I didn’t know. Not till then.
Our mother told us our father was dead. She believed it, I think.
The Shadowmasters conscripted him into their labor battalions
during their first invasion, before the Black Company ever arrived
from the north. I was the youngest of four children. I’m
pretty sure the older ones knew the truth. My brother Sugriva moved
to Dejagore and changed his name. My sister Khaditya changed hers,
too. Her husband would die of mortification if he knew.”
“You’ve never mentioned this before.”
“I think you can understand why.”
“Oh. I do. That’s a cruel burden to bear.”
Mogaba already found himself responding to the Deceiver connection.
With exactly the sort of paranoid fear everyone did to any Deceiver
connection. It was inevitable. Aloud, he said, “I wonder how
those people ever trust each other?”
Aridatha replied, “I suspect you’d have to be inside
and a part of it all to understand. I think the biggest part of it,
though, would be their faith in their Goddess.”
The Great General looked at Ghopal Singh. “If the Greys
have objections I need to hear them now.”
Ghopal shook his head. “Only one Grey is going to know
about this. For now. The others wouldn’t
understand.”
“Aridatha. You have someone you trust to take charge while
you’re gone?” The City Battalions did not know they
were part of a conspiracy to free Taglios from its protector. It
was necessary to keep firm control there.
“Yes. But no one in the know. If you have unusual requests
you’ll have to justify them based on what’s going on in
the city.” The soldiers understood that their role was to
keep the peace if the population became too restive for the Greys
alone.
Mogaba asked, “Are there enough provocations to make any
excuses sound good?”
Ghopal showed a large array of teeth. Shadar were proud of their
well-kept teeth. “That’s almost amusing. Since the news
reached the street that the Black Company really is back,
there’s actually been less related graffiti. As though real
Company sympathizers don’t want to risk identification and
the non-Company vandals responsible for most of it suddenly
don’t want to be identified with any terror that’s for
real.”
“Terror?”
“You were right, what you said last night. There’s a
growing fear of the Company out there. Like you said, it was in
olden times. I don’t understand but it’s helping keep
the peace just when I expected a lot more trouble.”
“If you need provocations and the villains don’t
provide them, feel free to create your own. Aridatha, you know what
needs doing. Do it. As quickly as possible. Before events move so
fast they rob us of more chances.” Though it could happen
almost momentarily, Mogaba had abandoned any real hope of catching
the Protector unaware as she returned to the city.
At the moment it seemed she did not plan to return until the
Black Company invasion was settled.
The Taglian field
army slowly assembled astride the Rock Road in lightly settled
country midway between Dejagore and the fortified crossings over
the River Main at Ghoja. Another, less powerful force, consisting
of troops from the southern provinces, assembled outside Dejagore.
And a third gathered outside Taglios itself. There seemed no reason
to suspect that the force at Dejagore should have any trouble
denying that city to a force such as that the Black Company was
bringing up. Mogaba expected his enemies to swing west once they
descended from the highlands, possibly marching as far as the
Naghir River, which they could follow north, then swing eastward
again and try to get over the Main at one of the lesser downriver
crossings. He intended to let them march and march and wear
themselves down. He intended to let them do whatever they wanted
till he slammed the door shut behind them. Once he had them north
of the Main he could build a ring around them and slowly
squeeze.
The Great General was feeling quite positive. Taglios was
restive but not rebellious. Even the most remote garrison
commanders were bringing their soldiers to the assembly points with
their units at near strength even though some harvesting would
commence in the far south before the end of the month.
Harvest season inevitably precipitated higher desertion
rates.
Best of all, the Protector was staying away. Her tinkering and
interference always made his task more difficult. And, of course,
it was always his fault when a bastardized plan fell apart.
The Great General gathered his senior staff and inner circle,
which included a dozen generals as well as Ghopal and Aridatha
Singh. He told them, “The plan appears to be coming together
perfectly. With a couple of nudges and timed withdrawals I think we
can lead them to the ford at Vehdna-Bota. I still wish we had
better communications with the Protector. But she can’t find
enough crows anymore. Some plague is wiping them out. I seldom hear
from her more than once a day. And then, often as not, she’ll
waste time on weather news or a flu epidemic in
Prehbehlbed.” Nor were there any shadows about, nor any of
the Protector’s lesser spies. Mogaba did not mention that.
Taglians were dedicated conspirators. Let them continue to think
that there might be eyes in the corners, watching.
Only his own conspiracy need go forward.
The Great General had more to preoccupy him than how to isolate
and destroy his enemy. He suspected there was a definite question
about the identity of Taglios’ most dangerous foe.
Something about this incarnation of the Black Company had
Soulcatcher so concerned that she insisted on focusing all her
attention there. Something about this incarnation of the Black
Company had touched almost everyone of substance within the Taglian
empire, though news of their return had barely had time to spread
and there were no eyewitness reports available at all. All
customary enmity and internal friction seemed to be dwindling at a
time when, normally, factionalism should be exploding as old
antagonists tried to use the situation to their advantage.
And Mogaba had found that he was thinking less and less about
the practicalities of eliminating the Protector, more and more
obsessively about destroying the Black Company. Not just defeating
them but obliterating them. To the last man, woman, child, horse,
mule, flea and louse.
After decades of unhappy fortune Mogaba was naturally wary of
everything—including his own emotional state.
He had begun keeping a personal journal the day he had made the
decision to betray Soulcatcher, to track his thoughts and emotions
during the subsequent, stressful days. It was a journal he opened
only in brilliant sunlight. It was a journal he would destroy
before actually taking action against the Protector because there
were names in it he did not want betrayed if he failed—and was
lucky enough to die before she captured him.
Lately he had noticed an evolution in his thinking about the
Company. An accelerating evolution. A frightening evolution.
He had become suspicious of his own reason.
Following a general meeting to consider policy for the empire
the Great General met with the men responsible for the capital
city.
“Kina is active again,” Mogaba murmured. Ghopal and
Aridatha listened politely. He was referencing events from before
their time, that they knew only by repute. “She’s doing
that thing where she gradually shapes everyone’s
prejudices.”
They offered him blank looks.
“Not history buffs, eh?” Mogaba explained.
“The strangest part was, nobody ever wondered why they were
terrified. They just didn’t remember that three years earlier
they’d never heard of the Black Company.”
Ghopal said, “What you’re saying is, the Strangler
Goddess has a particular fear of the Black Company. She wants the
whole world to climb all over them and destroy them. Even if blood
has to be spilled.”
“Isn’t this an interesting quandary,” Aridatha
said. “If we can overcome the Black Company, we’ll
still have to deal with the Protector. If we knock her down, too,
then we’ll still have to handle the Stranglers and Kina, in
order to prevent the Year of the Skulls. Wave after wave. No end to
it.”
“No end to it,” Mogaba agreed. “And I’m
getting to be quite an old man.” He had begun to nurture an
outrageous notion almost as soon as he had determined that he was
being manipulated. “There are a couple of old records I want
to check. I want you both back here same time tomorrow.”
The Great General did not lack courage. The next evening he led
Ghopal and Aridatha into the brightly lit room. He presented a more
convincing case for his belief that Kina had awakened, drawing
heavily upon excerpts from copies of Black Company Annals residing
in the national library.
Aridatha Singh said, “I believe you. I just wonder what
happened to wake her up again.”
“Ghopal?”
“I’m not sure I understand. But I don’t think
I have to. Aridatha does. I trust his wisdom.”
“Then I’ll talk to Aridatha. But you listen.”
Mogaba chuckled.
Aridatha listened to his idea, the reasoning behind it, frowning
all the while. Ghopal seemed aghast. But he kept his mouth shut.
Aridatha went off alone with his thoughts. After a while he nodded
reluctantly and said. “I have a brother in Dejagore.
I’ll find a reason to go visit. I know some people who might
listen to what you have to say if it’s me doing the
talking.”
“What?”
Aridatha said, “You recall a few years ago when the
Company underground here started kidnapping people? Willow Swan,
the Purohita, and so on? I was one of the people they
snatched.”
Ghopal wanted to know why, and Mogaba wondered how he had gotten
away.
“I got away because they let me go. They only picked me up
because they wanted to show me off to somebody they were holding
already.” Aridatha took a long, deep breath and revealed his
great secret. “My father. Narayan Singh. They were showing
him their power.”
“Narayan Singh? The Narayan Singh? The Strangler?”
Ghopal asked.
“That Narayan Singh. I didn’t know. Not till then.
Our mother told us our father was dead. She believed it, I think.
The Shadowmasters conscripted him into their labor battalions
during their first invasion, before the Black Company ever arrived
from the north. I was the youngest of four children. I’m
pretty sure the older ones knew the truth. My brother Sugriva moved
to Dejagore and changed his name. My sister Khaditya changed hers,
too. Her husband would die of mortification if he knew.”
“You’ve never mentioned this before.”
“I think you can understand why.”
“Oh. I do. That’s a cruel burden to bear.”
Mogaba already found himself responding to the Deceiver connection.
With exactly the sort of paranoid fear everyone did to any Deceiver
connection. It was inevitable. Aloud, he said, “I wonder how
those people ever trust each other?”
Aridatha replied, “I suspect you’d have to be inside
and a part of it all to understand. I think the biggest part of it,
though, would be their faith in their Goddess.”
The Great General looked at Ghopal Singh. “If the Greys
have objections I need to hear them now.”
Ghopal shook his head. “Only one Grey is going to know
about this. For now. The others wouldn’t
understand.”
“Aridatha. You have someone you trust to take charge while
you’re gone?” The City Battalions did not know they
were part of a conspiracy to free Taglios from its protector. It
was necessary to keep firm control there.
“Yes. But no one in the know. If you have unusual requests
you’ll have to justify them based on what’s going on in
the city.” The soldiers understood that their role was to
keep the peace if the population became too restive for the Greys
alone.
Mogaba asked, “Are there enough provocations to make any
excuses sound good?”
Ghopal showed a large array of teeth. Shadar were proud of their
well-kept teeth. “That’s almost amusing. Since the news
reached the street that the Black Company really is back,
there’s actually been less related graffiti. As though real
Company sympathizers don’t want to risk identification and
the non-Company vandals responsible for most of it suddenly
don’t want to be identified with any terror that’s for
real.”
“Terror?”
“You were right, what you said last night. There’s a
growing fear of the Company out there. Like you said, it was in
olden times. I don’t understand but it’s helping keep
the peace just when I expected a lot more trouble.”
“If you need provocations and the villains don’t
provide them, feel free to create your own. Aridatha, you know what
needs doing. Do it. As quickly as possible. Before events move so
fast they rob us of more chances.” Though it could happen
almost momentarily, Mogaba had abandoned any real hope of catching
the Protector unaware as she returned to the city.
At the moment it seemed she did not plan to return until the
Black Company invasion was settled.