I got through my
part of the evening meeting quickly and ran off to my own little
corner so I could compare my newly acquired pages with those of the
book I had stolen from the library that I thought was an exact
copy—if not the genuine original—of the true first volume of the
Annals of the Black Company. I was so cheerful I am sure One-Eye
must have had great fun talking about me behind my back.
It did not occur to me to stick around to see how our temptation
of Chandra Gokhale played out.
The story I got later was, Gokhale had a man try to follow Shiki
home. When that man did not report back within a reasonable time—on
account of he ran into Runmust and Iqbal Singh someplace he should
not have been and ended up taking the long swim downriver—Gokhale
headed for the joy house that specialized in serving him, his
associates and those who shared their select but hardly rare tastes
in pleasure. Riverwalker and several other brothers picked him up
when he left the Palace. He was accompanied by two companions who
would regret their wishes to ingratiate themselves with the
Inspector-General by joining him in an evening of indulgence.
Murgen followed events closely, too. Knowing that he would do
so, I felt at ease snuggling up with my new acquisitions.
It took me over an hour to conclude that what I had brought out
today was indeed a later version of the first ever Annal and most
of another hour to realize that I would not be able to winkle out
the book’s secrets without skilled help. Or a lot more time
than I had.
Chandra Gokhale apparently died in that joy house. Likewise, his
two companions. There were witnesses. People saw them strangled.
Then a red rumel got left behind in the killers’ haste to get
away.
The Greys arrived almost immediately. They loaded the corpses
into a cart, saying the Protector wanted Gokhale’s back in
the Palace instantly. But the Greys stopped being Greys moments
after they left the pleasure house. Their course led them toward
the river rather than toward the Palace. The extra bodies vanished
into the flood.
A white crow dozing on a rooftop wakened when they
started downhill. It stretched and followed them.
I got through my
part of the evening meeting quickly and ran off to my own little
corner so I could compare my newly acquired pages with those of the
book I had stolen from the library that I thought was an exact
copy—if not the genuine original—of the true first volume of the
Annals of the Black Company. I was so cheerful I am sure One-Eye
must have had great fun talking about me behind my back.
It did not occur to me to stick around to see how our temptation
of Chandra Gokhale played out.
The story I got later was, Gokhale had a man try to follow Shiki
home. When that man did not report back within a reasonable time—on
account of he ran into Runmust and Iqbal Singh someplace he should
not have been and ended up taking the long swim downriver—Gokhale
headed for the joy house that specialized in serving him, his
associates and those who shared their select but hardly rare tastes
in pleasure. Riverwalker and several other brothers picked him up
when he left the Palace. He was accompanied by two companions who
would regret their wishes to ingratiate themselves with the
Inspector-General by joining him in an evening of indulgence.
Murgen followed events closely, too. Knowing that he would do
so, I felt at ease snuggling up with my new acquisitions.
It took me over an hour to conclude that what I had brought out
today was indeed a later version of the first ever Annal and most
of another hour to realize that I would not be able to winkle out
the book’s secrets without skilled help. Or a lot more time
than I had.
Chandra Gokhale apparently died in that joy house. Likewise, his
two companions. There were witnesses. People saw them strangled.
Then a red rumel got left behind in the killers’ haste to get
away.
The Greys arrived almost immediately. They loaded the corpses
into a cart, saying the Protector wanted Gokhale’s back in
the Palace instantly. But the Greys stopped being Greys moments
after they left the pleasure house. Their course led them toward
the river rather than toward the Palace. The extra bodies vanished
into the flood.
A white crow dozing on a rooftop wakened when they
started downhill. It stretched and followed them.