Our crossing at
Ghoja was another grand anticlimax.
We all worked ourselves into a
state of nerves before we reached the bottleneck. I sent Slink
forward to scout and did not believe a word, emotionally, when he
reported the only attention being paid anyone went to those few
travelers who argued about paying a two-copper pais toll for use of
the bridge. These tightwads were commended to the old ford
downstream from the bridge. A ford that was impassable because this
was the rainy season. Traffic was heavy. The soldiers assigned to
watch the bridge were too busy loafing and playing cards to harass
wayfarers.
Some part of me was determined to expect the worst.
Ghoja had grown into a small town serving those who traveled the
Rock Road, which was one of the Black Company’s lasting
legacies. The Captain had had the highway paved from Taglios to
Jaicur during his preparations for invading the Shadowlands.
Prisoners of war had provided the labor. More recently, Mogaba had
used convicts to extend the road southwestward, adding tributaries,
to connect the cities and territories newly taken under Taglian
protection.
Once we were safely over the Main, I began to ponder our next
steps. I gathered everyone. “Is there any way we could forge
a rescript ordering the garrison here to arrest Narayan if he
crosses the bridge?”
Doj told me, “You’re too optimistic. If he’s
going south, he’s already ahead of us.”
Swan added, “Not to mention that if he fell into the
Protector’s hands, she’d find out everything he knows
about you.”
“The voice of an expert heard.”
“I didn’t take the job voluntarily.”
“All right. She could, yes. He knows where we’re
headed. And why. And that we have the Key. But what does he know
about the other bunch? If he doesn’t get caught, won’t
he try to intercept them so he can do something about getting the
Daughter of Night away from them?”
No one found any cause to disagree.
“I suggest we remind one another of that occasionally, so
it gets said sometime when Murgen is around to hear it.”
Sahra never promised to spare Narayan’s ragged old hide.
Maybe she could ambush him and take back that unfinished first Book
of the Dead.
Swan pointed out, “That crow is still following
us.”
A small but lofty fortification overlooked the bridge and ford
from the south bank. The bird was up top watching us. It had not
moved since our crossing. Maybe it wanted to rest its bones,
too.
River whispered, “We still have one bamboo pole with
crow-killing balls in it.”
“Leave it alone. It doesn’t seem to mean any harm.
For now, anyway.” I was sure it had tried to communicate
several times. “We can take it out if anything
changes.”
At Ghoja we heard nothing but the traditional grumbling about
those in charge. Rumors concerning events in Taglios seemed so
exaggerated that no one believed a tenth of anything they heard.
Later, after we reached Jaicur and were taking it easy for a while,
the temper of rumor began to change. It now carried a subtle
vibration suggesting the great spider at the heart of the web had
begun to stir. It would be a long time before any concrete news
caught up but the general consensus was that we should get going
right now and not dawdle along the way.
Runmust discovered that a man answering Narayan’s
description had been seen lurking in the vicinity of the shop
operated by his now-pseudonymous offspring, Sugriva. “The man
does have a weakness. Should we kill Sugriva while we’re
here?”
“He’s never done anything to us.”
“His father did. It would be a reminder to him.”
“He doesn’t need reminding. If Narayan is so dim
that he thinks we’re done with him now, let him. Just let me
be there to see the look on his face when we catch him
again.”
Narayan had stood out in Jaicur because the city was still very
nearly a military encampment. People would remember us as well, if
asked during the next few weeks.
I roamed around looking for my childhood a few times but nothing
that I remembered, people or places, good or evil, remained. That
past survived nowhere but within my mind. Which was the one place I
wished that it could die.
Our crossing at
Ghoja was another grand anticlimax.
We all worked ourselves into a
state of nerves before we reached the bottleneck. I sent Slink
forward to scout and did not believe a word, emotionally, when he
reported the only attention being paid anyone went to those few
travelers who argued about paying a two-copper pais toll for use of
the bridge. These tightwads were commended to the old ford
downstream from the bridge. A ford that was impassable because this
was the rainy season. Traffic was heavy. The soldiers assigned to
watch the bridge were too busy loafing and playing cards to harass
wayfarers.
Some part of me was determined to expect the worst.
Ghoja had grown into a small town serving those who traveled the
Rock Road, which was one of the Black Company’s lasting
legacies. The Captain had had the highway paved from Taglios to
Jaicur during his preparations for invading the Shadowlands.
Prisoners of war had provided the labor. More recently, Mogaba had
used convicts to extend the road southwestward, adding tributaries,
to connect the cities and territories newly taken under Taglian
protection.
Once we were safely over the Main, I began to ponder our next
steps. I gathered everyone. “Is there any way we could forge
a rescript ordering the garrison here to arrest Narayan if he
crosses the bridge?”
Doj told me, “You’re too optimistic. If he’s
going south, he’s already ahead of us.”
Swan added, “Not to mention that if he fell into the
Protector’s hands, she’d find out everything he knows
about you.”
“The voice of an expert heard.”
“I didn’t take the job voluntarily.”
“All right. She could, yes. He knows where we’re
headed. And why. And that we have the Key. But what does he know
about the other bunch? If he doesn’t get caught, won’t
he try to intercept them so he can do something about getting the
Daughter of Night away from them?”
No one found any cause to disagree.
“I suggest we remind one another of that occasionally, so
it gets said sometime when Murgen is around to hear it.”
Sahra never promised to spare Narayan’s ragged old hide.
Maybe she could ambush him and take back that unfinished first Book
of the Dead.
Swan pointed out, “That crow is still following
us.”
A small but lofty fortification overlooked the bridge and ford
from the south bank. The bird was up top watching us. It had not
moved since our crossing. Maybe it wanted to rest its bones,
too.
River whispered, “We still have one bamboo pole with
crow-killing balls in it.”
“Leave it alone. It doesn’t seem to mean any harm.
For now, anyway.” I was sure it had tried to communicate
several times. “We can take it out if anything
changes.”
At Ghoja we heard nothing but the traditional grumbling about
those in charge. Rumors concerning events in Taglios seemed so
exaggerated that no one believed a tenth of anything they heard.
Later, after we reached Jaicur and were taking it easy for a while,
the temper of rumor began to change. It now carried a subtle
vibration suggesting the great spider at the heart of the web had
begun to stir. It would be a long time before any concrete news
caught up but the general consensus was that we should get going
right now and not dawdle along the way.
Runmust discovered that a man answering Narayan’s
description had been seen lurking in the vicinity of the shop
operated by his now-pseudonymous offspring, Sugriva. “The man
does have a weakness. Should we kill Sugriva while we’re
here?”
“He’s never done anything to us.”
“His father did. It would be a reminder to him.”
“He doesn’t need reminding. If Narayan is so dim
that he thinks we’re done with him now, let him. Just let me
be there to see the look on his face when we catch him
again.”
Narayan had stood out in Jaicur because the city was still very
nearly a military encampment. People would remember us as well, if
asked during the next few weeks.
I roamed around looking for my childhood a few times but nothing
that I remembered, people or places, good or evil, remained. That
past survived nowhere but within my mind. Which was the one place I
wished that it could die.