I limped into the common room at what was left of Blue Willy,
the Lady supported under one arm, bow used as a crutch. The ankle
was killing me. I had thought it almost healed.
I deposited the Lady in a chair. She was weak and pale and only
about half conscious despite the best One-Eye and I could do. I was
determined not to let her out of my sight. Our situation was still
fraught with peril. Her people no longer had any reason to be nice.
And she was at risk herself—probably more from herself than from
Raven or my comrades. She had fallen into a state of complete
despair.
“Is this all?” I asked. Silent, Goblin, and One-Eye
were there. And Otto the immortal, wounded as always after a
Company action, with his eternal sidekick, Hagop. A youngster named
Murgen, our standard-bearer. Three others from the Company. And
Darling, of course, seated beside Silent. She ignored the Lady
completely.
Raven and Case were back by the bar, present without having been
invited. Raven wore a dark look but seemed to have himself under
control. His gaze was fixed on Darling.
She looked grim. She had rebounded better than the Lady. But she
had won. She ignored Raven more assiduously than she did the
Lady.
There had been a showdown between them, and I had overheard his
half. Darling had made very clear her displeasure with his
inability to handle emotional commitment. She had not cut him off.
She had not banished him from her heart. But he was not redeemed in
her eyes.
He then had said some very unkind things about Silent, whom, it
was obvious, she held in affection but nothing deeper.
And that had gotten her really angry. I had peeped then. And she
had gone on in great length and fury about not being a prize in
some men’s game, like a princess in some dopey fairy tale
where a gang of suitors ride around doing stupid and dangerous
things vying for her hand.
Like the Lady, she had been in charge too long to accept a
standard female role now. She was still the White Rose inside.
So Raven was not so happy. He had not been shut out, but he had
been told he had a long way to go if he wanted to lay any
claims.
The first task she had given him was righting himself with his
children.
I halfway felt sorry for the guy. He knew only one role. Hard
guy. And it had been stripped away.
One-Eye interrupted my thoughts. “This is it, Croaker.
This is all. Going to be a big funeral.”
It would. “Shall I preside as senior officer surviving? Or
do you want to exercise your prerogative as oldest
brother?”
“You do it.” He was in no mood to do anything but
brood.
Neither was I. But there were ten of us still alive, surrounded
by potential enemies. We had decisions to make.
“All right. This is an official convocation of the Black
Company, last of the Free Companies of Khatovar. We’ve lost
our captain. First business is to elect a new commander. Then we
have to decide how we’re going to get out of here. Any
nominations?”
“You,” Otto said.
“I’m a physician.”
“You’re the only real officer left.”
Raven started to rise.
I told him, “You sit down and keep quiet. You don’t
even belong here. You walked out on us fifteen years ago, remember?
Come on, you guys. Who else?”
Nobody spoke. Nobody volunteered. Nobody met my eye, either.
They all knew I did not want it.
Goblin squeaked, “Is anybody against Croaker?”
Nobody blackballed me. It’s wonderful to be loved. Grand
to be the least of evils.
I wanted to turn it down. The option was not there. “All
right. Next order of business. Getting the hell out of here.
We’re surrounded, guys. And the Guard will get its balance
pretty soon. We’ve got to get gone before they start looking
around for somebody to whip on. But once we get clear, then
what?”
Nobody offered an opinion. These men were as much in shock as
the Guards.
“All right. I know what I want to do. Since time
immemorial one of the jobs of the Annalist has been to return the
Annals to Khatovar should the Company disband or be demolished.
We’ve been demolished. I propose a vote to disband. Some of
us have assumed obligations that are going to put us at odds as
soon as we don’t have anybody more dangerous to fuss
at.” I looked at Silent. He met my gaze. He’d just
moved his seat so he was more into the gap between Darling and
Raven, a gesture understood by everyone but Raven himself.
I had nominated myself guardian for the Lady, for the time
being. There was no way we could keep those two women in one
another’s company for long. I hoped we could hold the group
together as far as Oar. I would be satisfied with getting to the
edge of the forest. We needed every hand. Our tactical situation
could not have been worse.
“Shall we disband?” I asked.
That caused a stir. Everyone but Silent argued the negative.
I interjected, “This is a formal proposition. I want those
with special interests to go their own ways without the stigma of
desertion. That don’t mean we have to split. What I’m
saying is, we formally shed the name the Black Company. I’ll
head south with the Annals, looking for Khatovar. Anyone who wants
can come. Under the usual rules.”
Nobody wanted to give up the name. That would be like renouncing
a patronym thirty generations old.
“So we don’t give it up. Who would rather not go
look for Khatovar?”
Three hands rose. All belonged to troopers who had enlisted
north of the Sea of Torments. Silent abstained, though he wanted to
go his own way, in pursuit of his own impossible dream.
Then another hand shot up. Belatedly, Goblin had noted that
One-Eye was not opposed. They started one of their arguments. I cut
it short.
“I won’t insist on the majority dragging everybody
along. As commander, I can discharge anyone who wants to follow
another path. Silent?”
He had been a brother of the Black Company longer than I. We
were his friends, his family. His heart was torn.
Finally, he nodded. He would go his own road, even without
promises from Darling. The three who had opposed heading for
Khatovar nodded too. I entered their discharges in the Annals.
“You’re out,” I told them. “I’ll deal
out your shares of money and equipment when we clear the south edge
of the forest. Till then we stick together.” I did not pursue
it further, or in a moment I would have been hanging all over
Silent, bawling my eyes out. We had been through a lot, he and
I.
I wheeled on Goblin, pen poised. “Well? Do I strike your
name?”
“Go on,” One-Eye said. “Hurry. Do it. Get rid
of him. We don’t need his kind. He’s never been
anything but trouble.”
Goblin scowled at him. “Just for that I’m not
leaving. I’m going to stay and outlive you and make your
remaining days examples of misery. And I hope you live another
hundred years.”
I had not thought they would split. “Fine,” I said,
stifling a grin. “Hagop, take a couple men and round up some
animals. The rest of you collect whatever might be useful. Like
money, if you see any laying around.”
They looked at me with eyes still dull with the impact of what
had happened.
“We’re getting out, guys. As soon as we can ride.
Before any more trouble finds us. Hagop. Don’t stint on pack
animals. I want to carry off everything that isn’t nailed
down.”
There was talk, argument, whatnot, but I closed the official
debate at that point.
Cunning devil that I am, I got the Guards to do our burying. I
stood over the Company graves with Silent and shed more than a few
tears. “I never thought Elmo . . . He
was my best friend.” It had hit me. At last. Hard. Now I had
done all the duties, there was nothing to hold it at bay. “He
was my sponsor when I came in.”
Silent lifted a hand, gently squeezed my arm. It was as much of
a gesture as I could expect.
The Guards were paying their last respects to their own. Their
daze was fading. Soon they would begin thinking about getting on
with business. About asking the Lady what they should do. In a
sense, they had been rendered unemployed.
They did not know their mistress had been disarmed. I prayed
they did not learn, for I meant to use her as our ticket out.
I dreaded what might happen should her loss become general
knowledge. On the broad canvas, civil wars to torment the world. On
the fine, attempts at revenge upon her person.
Someday someone would begin to suspect. I just wanted the secret
kept till we had a good run at getting out of the empire.
Silent took my arm again. He wanted to go. “One
second,” I said. I drew my sword, saluted our graves,
repeated the ancient formula of parting. Then I followed him to
where the others waited.
Silent’s party would ride with us a while, as I’d
wished. Our ways would part when we felt safe from the Guards. I
did not look forward to that moment, inevitable though it was. How
keep two such as Darling and the Lady in company when there was no
survival imperative?
I swung into the saddle cursing my wretched aching ankle. The
Lady gave me a dirty look. “Well,” I said.
“You’re showing some spirit.”
“Are you kidnapping me?”
“You want to be alone with all your folks? With maybe
nothing better than a knife to keep order?” Then I forced a
grin. “We’ve got a date. Remember? Dinner at the
Gardens in Opal?”
For just a moment there was a spark of mischief behind her
despair. And a look from a moment by a fire when we had come close.
Then the shadow returned.
I leaned closer, trembling with the thought. I whispered,
“And I need your help to get the Annals out of the
Tower.” I had not told anyone that I did not have them in my
possession yet.
The shadow went. “Dinner? That’s a promise?”
The witch could promise a lot, just with a look and her tone. I
croaked, “In the Gardens. Yes.”
I gave the time-honored signal. Hagop started off on point.
Goblin and One-Eye followed, bickering as usual. Then Murgen, with
the standard, then the Lady and I. Then most of the others, with
the pack animals. Silent and Darling brought up the rear, well
separated from the Lady and I.
As I urged my mount forward, I glanced back. Raven stood leaning
on his cane, looking more forlorn and abandoned than he should.
Case was still trying to explain it to him. The kid had no trouble
understanding. I figured Raven would, once he got over the shock of
not having everyone jump to do things his way, the shock of
discovering that old Croaker could fill his bluff if he had to.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured his way, not quite sure
why. Then I faced the forest and did not look back again.
I had a feeling he would be on the road himself soon enough. If
Darling really meant as much to him as he wanted us to think.
That night, for the first time in who knows how long, the
northern skies were completely clear. The Great Comet illuminated
our way. Now the north knew what the rest of the empire had known
for weeks.
It was on the wane already. The hour of decision had passed. The
empire awaited in fear the news that it portended.
Away north. Three days later. In the dark of a moonless night. A
beast with three legs limped from the Great Forest. It settled on
its haunches on the remains of the Barrowland, scratched the earth
with its one forepaw. The son of the tree flung a tiny change
storm.
The monster fled.
But it would return another night, and another, and another
after that . . .
I limped into the common room at what was left of Blue Willy,
the Lady supported under one arm, bow used as a crutch. The ankle
was killing me. I had thought it almost healed.
I deposited the Lady in a chair. She was weak and pale and only
about half conscious despite the best One-Eye and I could do. I was
determined not to let her out of my sight. Our situation was still
fraught with peril. Her people no longer had any reason to be nice.
And she was at risk herself—probably more from herself than from
Raven or my comrades. She had fallen into a state of complete
despair.
“Is this all?” I asked. Silent, Goblin, and One-Eye
were there. And Otto the immortal, wounded as always after a
Company action, with his eternal sidekick, Hagop. A youngster named
Murgen, our standard-bearer. Three others from the Company. And
Darling, of course, seated beside Silent. She ignored the Lady
completely.
Raven and Case were back by the bar, present without having been
invited. Raven wore a dark look but seemed to have himself under
control. His gaze was fixed on Darling.
She looked grim. She had rebounded better than the Lady. But she
had won. She ignored Raven more assiduously than she did the
Lady.
There had been a showdown between them, and I had overheard his
half. Darling had made very clear her displeasure with his
inability to handle emotional commitment. She had not cut him off.
She had not banished him from her heart. But he was not redeemed in
her eyes.
He then had said some very unkind things about Silent, whom, it
was obvious, she held in affection but nothing deeper.
And that had gotten her really angry. I had peeped then. And she
had gone on in great length and fury about not being a prize in
some men’s game, like a princess in some dopey fairy tale
where a gang of suitors ride around doing stupid and dangerous
things vying for her hand.
Like the Lady, she had been in charge too long to accept a
standard female role now. She was still the White Rose inside.
So Raven was not so happy. He had not been shut out, but he had
been told he had a long way to go if he wanted to lay any
claims.
The first task she had given him was righting himself with his
children.
I halfway felt sorry for the guy. He knew only one role. Hard
guy. And it had been stripped away.
One-Eye interrupted my thoughts. “This is it, Croaker.
This is all. Going to be a big funeral.”
It would. “Shall I preside as senior officer surviving? Or
do you want to exercise your prerogative as oldest
brother?”
“You do it.” He was in no mood to do anything but
brood.
Neither was I. But there were ten of us still alive, surrounded
by potential enemies. We had decisions to make.
“All right. This is an official convocation of the Black
Company, last of the Free Companies of Khatovar. We’ve lost
our captain. First business is to elect a new commander. Then we
have to decide how we’re going to get out of here. Any
nominations?”
“You,” Otto said.
“I’m a physician.”
“You’re the only real officer left.”
Raven started to rise.
I told him, “You sit down and keep quiet. You don’t
even belong here. You walked out on us fifteen years ago, remember?
Come on, you guys. Who else?”
Nobody spoke. Nobody volunteered. Nobody met my eye, either.
They all knew I did not want it.
Goblin squeaked, “Is anybody against Croaker?”
Nobody blackballed me. It’s wonderful to be loved. Grand
to be the least of evils.
I wanted to turn it down. The option was not there. “All
right. Next order of business. Getting the hell out of here.
We’re surrounded, guys. And the Guard will get its balance
pretty soon. We’ve got to get gone before they start looking
around for somebody to whip on. But once we get clear, then
what?”
Nobody offered an opinion. These men were as much in shock as
the Guards.
“All right. I know what I want to do. Since time
immemorial one of the jobs of the Annalist has been to return the
Annals to Khatovar should the Company disband or be demolished.
We’ve been demolished. I propose a vote to disband. Some of
us have assumed obligations that are going to put us at odds as
soon as we don’t have anybody more dangerous to fuss
at.” I looked at Silent. He met my gaze. He’d just
moved his seat so he was more into the gap between Darling and
Raven, a gesture understood by everyone but Raven himself.
I had nominated myself guardian for the Lady, for the time
being. There was no way we could keep those two women in one
another’s company for long. I hoped we could hold the group
together as far as Oar. I would be satisfied with getting to the
edge of the forest. We needed every hand. Our tactical situation
could not have been worse.
“Shall we disband?” I asked.
That caused a stir. Everyone but Silent argued the negative.
I interjected, “This is a formal proposition. I want those
with special interests to go their own ways without the stigma of
desertion. That don’t mean we have to split. What I’m
saying is, we formally shed the name the Black Company. I’ll
head south with the Annals, looking for Khatovar. Anyone who wants
can come. Under the usual rules.”
Nobody wanted to give up the name. That would be like renouncing
a patronym thirty generations old.
“So we don’t give it up. Who would rather not go
look for Khatovar?”
Three hands rose. All belonged to troopers who had enlisted
north of the Sea of Torments. Silent abstained, though he wanted to
go his own way, in pursuit of his own impossible dream.
Then another hand shot up. Belatedly, Goblin had noted that
One-Eye was not opposed. They started one of their arguments. I cut
it short.
“I won’t insist on the majority dragging everybody
along. As commander, I can discharge anyone who wants to follow
another path. Silent?”
He had been a brother of the Black Company longer than I. We
were his friends, his family. His heart was torn.
Finally, he nodded. He would go his own road, even without
promises from Darling. The three who had opposed heading for
Khatovar nodded too. I entered their discharges in the Annals.
“You’re out,” I told them. “I’ll deal
out your shares of money and equipment when we clear the south edge
of the forest. Till then we stick together.” I did not pursue
it further, or in a moment I would have been hanging all over
Silent, bawling my eyes out. We had been through a lot, he and
I.
I wheeled on Goblin, pen poised. “Well? Do I strike your
name?”
“Go on,” One-Eye said. “Hurry. Do it. Get rid
of him. We don’t need his kind. He’s never been
anything but trouble.”
Goblin scowled at him. “Just for that I’m not
leaving. I’m going to stay and outlive you and make your
remaining days examples of misery. And I hope you live another
hundred years.”
I had not thought they would split. “Fine,” I said,
stifling a grin. “Hagop, take a couple men and round up some
animals. The rest of you collect whatever might be useful. Like
money, if you see any laying around.”
They looked at me with eyes still dull with the impact of what
had happened.
“We’re getting out, guys. As soon as we can ride.
Before any more trouble finds us. Hagop. Don’t stint on pack
animals. I want to carry off everything that isn’t nailed
down.”
There was talk, argument, whatnot, but I closed the official
debate at that point.
Cunning devil that I am, I got the Guards to do our burying. I
stood over the Company graves with Silent and shed more than a few
tears. “I never thought Elmo . . . He
was my best friend.” It had hit me. At last. Hard. Now I had
done all the duties, there was nothing to hold it at bay. “He
was my sponsor when I came in.”
Silent lifted a hand, gently squeezed my arm. It was as much of
a gesture as I could expect.
The Guards were paying their last respects to their own. Their
daze was fading. Soon they would begin thinking about getting on
with business. About asking the Lady what they should do. In a
sense, they had been rendered unemployed.
They did not know their mistress had been disarmed. I prayed
they did not learn, for I meant to use her as our ticket out.
I dreaded what might happen should her loss become general
knowledge. On the broad canvas, civil wars to torment the world. On
the fine, attempts at revenge upon her person.
Someday someone would begin to suspect. I just wanted the secret
kept till we had a good run at getting out of the empire.
Silent took my arm again. He wanted to go. “One
second,” I said. I drew my sword, saluted our graves,
repeated the ancient formula of parting. Then I followed him to
where the others waited.
Silent’s party would ride with us a while, as I’d
wished. Our ways would part when we felt safe from the Guards. I
did not look forward to that moment, inevitable though it was. How
keep two such as Darling and the Lady in company when there was no
survival imperative?
I swung into the saddle cursing my wretched aching ankle. The
Lady gave me a dirty look. “Well,” I said.
“You’re showing some spirit.”
“Are you kidnapping me?”
“You want to be alone with all your folks? With maybe
nothing better than a knife to keep order?” Then I forced a
grin. “We’ve got a date. Remember? Dinner at the
Gardens in Opal?”
For just a moment there was a spark of mischief behind her
despair. And a look from a moment by a fire when we had come close.
Then the shadow returned.
I leaned closer, trembling with the thought. I whispered,
“And I need your help to get the Annals out of the
Tower.” I had not told anyone that I did not have them in my
possession yet.
The shadow went. “Dinner? That’s a promise?”
The witch could promise a lot, just with a look and her tone. I
croaked, “In the Gardens. Yes.”
I gave the time-honored signal. Hagop started off on point.
Goblin and One-Eye followed, bickering as usual. Then Murgen, with
the standard, then the Lady and I. Then most of the others, with
the pack animals. Silent and Darling brought up the rear, well
separated from the Lady and I.
As I urged my mount forward, I glanced back. Raven stood leaning
on his cane, looking more forlorn and abandoned than he should.
Case was still trying to explain it to him. The kid had no trouble
understanding. I figured Raven would, once he got over the shock of
not having everyone jump to do things his way, the shock of
discovering that old Croaker could fill his bluff if he had to.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured his way, not quite sure
why. Then I faced the forest and did not look back again.
I had a feeling he would be on the road himself soon enough. If
Darling really meant as much to him as he wanted us to think.
That night, for the first time in who knows how long, the
northern skies were completely clear. The Great Comet illuminated
our way. Now the north knew what the rest of the empire had known
for weeks.
It was on the wane already. The hour of decision had passed. The
empire awaited in fear the news that it portended.
Away north. Three days later. In the dark of a moonless night. A
beast with three legs limped from the Great Forest. It settled on
its haunches on the remains of the Barrowland, scratched the earth
with its one forepaw. The son of the tree flung a tiny change
storm.
The monster fled.
But it would return another night, and another, and another
after that . . .