Shadows Linger (28 page)

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Authors: Glen Cook

Tags: #Fantasy, #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #General

BOOK: Shadows Linger
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“Maybe we made a mistake, eh?”

“Made a lot. Which one are you talking about?”

“Coming north, over the Sea of Torments.”

“Yes. I've known that for years.”

“And?”

“And we can't get out. Not yet. Someday, maybe, when our orders take us back to
the Jewel Cities, or somewhere where we could leave the empire and still find
ourselves in a civilized country.” There was an almost bottomless yearning in
his voice. “The longer I spend in the north, the less I want to end my days
here, Croaker. Put that in your Annals.”

I had him talking, a rare occurrence. I merely grunted, hoping he would continue
filling the silence. He did. “We're running with the darkness, Croaker. I know
that don't make no never-mind, really. Logically. We're the Black Company. We're
not good or evil. We're just sol-diers with swords for sale. But I'm tired of
having our work turned to wicked ends. If this looting thing happens, l may step
aside. Raven had the right idea back at Charm. He got the hell out.”

I then set forth a notion that had been in the back of my mind for years. One
I'd never taken seriously, knowing it quixotic. “That doesn't contribute
anything, Captain. We also have the option of going the other way.“ ”Eh?” He
came back from whatever faraway place ruled him and really looked at me. “Don't
be silly, Croaker. That's a fool's game. The Lady squashes anybody who tries.”

He ground a heel into the earth. “Like a bug.”

“Yeah.” It was a silly idea, on several levels, not the least of which was that
the other side could not afford us. I could not picture us in the Rebel role
anyway. The majority of Rebels were idiots, fools or ambitious types hoping to
grab a chunk of what the Lady had. Darling was the outstanding exception, and
she was more symbol than substance, and a secret symbol at that.

“Eight years since the comet was in the sky,” the Captain said. "You know the
legends. She won't fall till the Great Comet is up there. You want to try
surviving twenty-nine years on the run from the Taken? No, Croaker. Even if our
hearts were with the White Rose, we couldn't make that choice. That's suicide.

Getting out of the empire is the way."

“She'd come after us.”

"Why? Why shouldn't she be satisfied with what she's had of us these ten years?

We're no threat to her."

But we were. We very much were, if only because we knew of the existence of the
reincarnation of the White Rose. And I was sure that, once we left the empire,

either Silent or I would spill that secret. Of course, the Lady did not know
that we knew.

“This chatter is an exercise in futility,” the Captain said. “I'd rather not
talk about it.”

“As you wish. Tell me what we're going to do here.”

“The Lady is coming in tonight. Whisper says we'll begin the assault as soon as
the auspices are right.”

I glanced at the black castle.

“No,” he said. “It won't be easy. It may not be possible, even with the Lady
helping.”

“If she asks about me, tell her I'm dead. Or something,” I said.

That won a smile. “But, Croaker, she's your. . . .”

“Raven,” I snapped. “I know things about him that could get us all killed. So
does Silent. Get him out of Duretile before she gets here. Neither one of us
dares face the Eye.”

“For that, neither do I. Because I know you know something. We're going to have
to take our chances, Croaker.”

“Right. So don't put notions into her head.”

"I expect she's forgotten you long since, Croaker. You're just another
soldier.''

Black Company N 2 - Shadows Linger
Chapter Thirty-Eight:

JUNIPER: THE STORM
The Lady hadn't forgotten me. Not even a little. Shortly after midnight a grim
Elmo rousted me out. “Whisper is here. Wants you, Croaker.”

“Eh?” I hadn't done anything to arouse her ire. Not for weeks.

“They want you over to Duretile. She wants you. Whisper is here to take you
back.”

Ever seen a grown man faint? I haven't. But I came close. I may have come close
to having a stroke, too. My blood pressure must have soared. For two minutes I
was vertiginous and unable to think. My heart pounded. My guts ached with fear.

I knew she was going to drag me in for a session with the Eye, which sees every
secret buried in a man's mind. And yet I could do nothing to evade her. It was
too late to run. I wished I had been aboard the ship to Meadenvil with
Pawnbroker.

Like a man walking to the gallows, I went out to Whisper's carpet, settled
myself behind her, and dwindled into my thoughts as we rose and rushed through
the chill night toward Duretile.

As we passed over the Port, Whisper called back, “You must have made quite an
impression back when, physician. You were the first person she asked about when
she got here.”

I found enough presence of mind to ask, “Why?”

“I suspect because she wants her story recorded again. As she did during the
battle at Charm.”

I looked up from my hands, startled. How had she known that? I'd always pictured
the Taken and Lady as uncommunicative among themselves.

What she said was true. During the battle at Charm the Lady had dragged me
around with her so the events of the day would be recorded as they happened. And
she did not demand special treatment. In fact, she insisted I write stuff as I
saw it. There was just the faintest whiff of a hint that she expected to be
toppled sometime, and, once she was, expected maltreatment by historians. She
wanted a neutral record to exist. I hadn't thought about that for years. It was
one of the more curious anomalies I'd noted about her. She did not care what
people thought of her, but was frightened that the record would be bastardized
to suit someone else's ends.

The tiniest spark of hope rose from that. Maybe she did want a record kept.

Maybe I could get through this. If I could remain nimble enough to avoid the
Eye.

The Captain met us when we landed on Duretile's northern wall. A glance at the
carpets there told me all the Taken were on hand. Even Journey, whom I had
expected to remain in the Barrowland. But Journey would have a grudge to soothe.

Feather had been his wife.

A second glance told me the Captain was silently apologetic about my situation,

that there were things he wanted to say but dared not. I fed him a tiny shrug,

hoped we would get a moment later. We did not. Whisper led me from the wall
directly into the Lady's presence.

She hadn't changed an iota since I had seen her last. The rest of us had aged
terribly, but she remained twenty forever, radiantly gorgeous with stunning
black hair and eyes into which a man could fall and die. She was, as always,

such a focal point of glamor that she could not be physically described. A
detailed description would be pointless anyway, as what I saw was not the true
Lady. The Lady who looked like that hadn't existed for four centuries, if ever.

She rose and came to greet me, a hand extended. I could not tear my eyes away.

She rewarded me with the slightly mocking smile I recalled so well, as though we
shared a secret. I touched her hand lightly, and was astonished to find it warm.

Away from her, when she vanished from mind except as a distant object of dread,

like an earthquake, I could think of her only as cold, dead, and deadly. More on
the order of a lethal zombie than a living, breathing, even possibly vulnerable
person.

She smiled a second time and invited me to take a seat. I did so, feeling
grotesquely out of place amidst a company which included all but one of the
great evils of the world. And the Dominator was there in spirit, casting his
cold shadow.

I was not there to contribute, that became obvious. The Captain and Lieutenant
did the talking for the Company. The Duke and Custodian Hargadon were there,

too, but contributed little more than I. The Taken carried the discussion,

questioning the Captain and Lieutenant. Only once was I addressed, and that by
the Captain, who inquired as to my readiness to treat casualties from the
fighting.

The meeting had only one point so far as I was concerned. The assault was set
for dawn, day after the one coming up. It would continue till the black castle
was destroyed or we lost our capacity to attack.

“The place is a hole in the bottom of the ship of empire,” the Lady said. “It
has to be plugged or we all drown.” She entertained no protests from the Duke or
Hargadon, both of whom regretted asking her for help. The Duke was now impotent
within his own domain, and Hargadon little better. The Custodian suspected he
would be out of work entirely, once the threat of the castle ended. Few of the
Company and none of the Taken had been at any pains to conceal their disdain for
Juniper's odd religion. Having spent a lot of time among the people, I could say
they took it only as seriously as the Inquisitors, Custodians and a few fanatics
made them.

I hoped she went slow if she intended changes, though.

Like so slow the Company would be headed elsewhere before she started. You mess
with people's religion and you mess with fire. Even people who don't much give a
damn. Religion is something that gets hammered in early, and never really goes
away. And has powers to move which go beyond anything rational.

Morning after the day coming up. Total war. All-out effort to eradicate the
black castle. Every resource of the Lady, Taken, Company and Juniper to be bent
to that end, for as long as it took.

Morning after the day coming up. But it did not work that way. Nobody told the
Dominator he was supposed to wait.

He got in the first strike six hours before jump-off, while most of the troops
and all the civilian laborers were asleep. While the only Taken patrolling was
Journey, who was the least of the Lady's henchmen.

It began when one of those bladder-like things bounced over the wall and filled
the gap remaining in the Lieutenant's ramp. At least a hundred creatures stormed
out of the castle and crossed.

Journey was alert. He had sensed a strangeness in the castle and was watching
for trouble. He came down fast and drenched those attackers with the dust that
melted.

Bam! Bam-bam-bam! The castle hit him the way it had hit his one-time wife. He
fishtailed through the air, evading the worst, but caught the edge of every
crack, and went down smouldering, his carpet destroyed.

The banging wakened me. It wakened the entire camp, for it started the same time
as the alarms and drowned them entirely.

I charged out of the hospital, saw the castle creatures boiling down the steps
of the Lieutenant's ramp. Journey hadn't stopped more than a handful. They were
enveloped by that protective glow One-Eye had encountered once before. They
spread out, sprinting through a storm of missiles from the men who had the
watch. A few more fell, but not many. They began extinguishing lights, I suppose
because their eyes were more suited to darkness than ours.

Men were running everywhere, dragging their clothing on as they rushed toward or
away from the enemy. The laborers panicked and greatly hampered the Company's
response. Many were killed by our men, vexed at finding
Them in the way.

The Lieutenant charged through the chaos bellowing orders. First he got his
batteries of heavy weapons manned and trained on the steps. He sent messengers
everywhere, ordering every ballista, catapult, mangonel and trebuchet moved to a
position where it could fire on the ramp. That baffled me only till the first
castle creature headed home with a body under each arm. A storm of missiles hit
him, tore the bodies to shreds, battered him to a pulp, and nearly buried him.

The Lieutenant had trebuchets throw cannisters of oil which smashed on the steps
and caught fire when flaming balls were thrown after them. He kept the oil and
fire flying. The castle creatures would not run through the flames.

So much for my thinking the Lieutenant was wasting
Time building useless engines.

The man knew his job. He was good. His preparation and quick response were more
valuable than anything done by the Lady or Taken that night. He held the line in
the critical minutes.

A mad battle began the moment the creatures realized they were cut off. They
promptly attacked, trying to reach the engines. The Lieutenant signaled his
under-officers and brought the bulk of his available manpower to bear. He had
to. Those creatures were more than a match for any two soldiers, and they
benefited from the protective glow as well.

Here, there, a brave citizen of Juniper grabbed a fallen weapon and jumped into
the struggle. Most paid the ultimate price, but their sacrifice helped keep the
enemy away from the engines.

It was obvious to everyone that if the creatures escaped with many bodies, our
cause was lost. We'd soon be face-to-face with their master himself.

The ball pairs began coming over from Duretile, splashing the night with
terrible color. Then Taken dropped from the night, Limper and Whisper each
depositing an egg which hatched the fire that fed on the stuff of the castle.

Limper dodged several attacks from the castle, swooped around, brought his
carpet to ground near my hospital, where we were swamped by customers already. I
had to retreat there to do the job for which I was paid. I kept the uphill tent
flaps open so I could watch.

Limper left his aerial steed, marched uphill with a long, black sword that
glimmered evilly in the light from the burning fortress. He radiated a glow not
unlike that protecting the castle creatures. His, however, was far more puissant
than theirs, as he demonstrated when he pushed through the press and attacked
them. Their weapons could not reach him. His sliced through them as though they
were made of lard.

The creatures, by that time, had slaughtered at least five hundred men. The
majority were workers, but the Company had taken a terrible beating, too. And
that beating went on even after the Limper turned the tide, for he could engage
but one creature at a time. Our people strove to keep the enemy contained till
the Limper could get to them.

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