Soldiers Live (28 page)

Gharhawnes:

Tobo and the Voroshk
The Howler certainly kept busy. He completed his first functional four-passenger
flying carpet two days after the soldiers marched westward. Gharhawnes seemed
deserted, though there were enough of us around to bloody a bunch of noses the
morning the former tenant took a notion to steal his home back.

Sleepy had a dozen carpets on order, from single-rider scouts to a monster she
hoped would carry twenty soldiers. I do not know who she expected to fly them.

Only Howler and Tobo—and, possibly, the Voroshk—had the power to manage the
things.

I insisted that we have a couple of modest-sized carpets first. Those should not
take too long to make and would be the size most useful to us right away. And
since I was in charge of the left-behinds and the Dejagore strike I got what I
wanted. Well, I got the one carpet.

Tobo had the flying post thing figured out, too. Both Shukrat and Arkana seemed
eager to get along now. One or the other would allow Tobo to borrow her post
when he wanted to run out to visit Sleepy, which he did by night so he would not
be seen from the ground. I never felt comfortable when he did that. We had too
many potentially unpleasant and unfriendly people back here in the manor.

Including a lot of hostages from the leading families of the region.

Both Magadan and Gromovol were increasingly determined not to be won over, each
for his own reasons. I told Magadan, “I’d be tempted to send you two home just
so I don’t have to worry about what’s going on behind my back,” I was not
worried, really. Tobo’s supernatural friends saw everything.

Magadan told me, “I don’t want to go home. Home no longer exists. I want to be
free.”

“Sure. You Voroshk showed what you can do when you’re free. I’ve spent my life
killing people like you. That’s people who believe it’s their destiny to make
slaves out of people like me. I’m in a war with another one of them right now.

I’m not about to cut you loose and let you start making peoples’ lives
miserable, too.”

None of which was absolutely true but it did sound good. And Magadan bought it.

Some. The part that really was true. That I would kill him before I turned him
loose on the world.

That was the moment when he decided he might want to go home after all. From
then on he brought that possibility up each time we crossed paths. The hidden
folk said he was sincere. He was trying to get the other kids to go along with
swapping what knowledge they had for an escort back across the place of
glittering stone.

Lady did not believe it. She thought we should put him and Gromovol down because
of the trouble they could cause.

My sweetie has a very direct approach to problem-solving.

Sometimes I do find what little conscience I retain a damnable handicap.

Howler, though, did successfully work his way out of the top ten on my shit
list. Tobo’s appeal to Shivetya had resulted in word from the golem saying he
did have the ability to intervene in Howler’s screaming and shrinking problems.

Shivetya did not have much of a reputation as a liar so even Howler took him at
his word. After which the smelly little wizard became extremely cooperative.

Though we still had no cause to trust his long run intentions. Nor he any call
to trust ours, either.

Lady cornered Tobo. “We have a dangerous situation, here. And like a pet cobra
it’s going to bite us someday. We have to do something.”

The boy sounded puzzled. “What’re you talking about? Something about what?”

“Those Voroshk. They aren’t as strong or as bright as we first thought but there
are four of them and only one of you.”

“But they’re not going to . . . ”

“Pardon me for being an old cynic,” I said. “Magadan keeps telling me, in so
many words, that he wants to be anywhere that isn’t here with us. And there’s at
least the implication that he’ll do whatever it takes if we don’t help him go
home. And Gromovol is going to be trouble eventually because his personality
requires it. If you go out to visit Sleepy or just on a flying date the rest of
us are stuck here with no better hope than the Howler.”

“And speaking of flying,” Lady said, “don’t you ever go out with both of those
girls again. Hush! You’re only familiar with the women you’ve grown up around.

I’m telling you right now that Arkana is exactly like Magadan. But she has one
more weapon than he does and she means to use it to cloud your mind.”

“But . . . ”

“Shukrat I’m not sure about. There’s a chance Shukrat is exactly what she
seems.”

I agreed. The kid was likable. And according to Tobo the hidden folk agreed.

They offered no reason not to trust her.

Tobo was not used to arguing with anybody but his mother, even when he thought
he was right. He did not want to think ill of Arkana but would not fight us.

Lady demanded, “So how do we make sure of them? You have to think of something
before we move against Dejagore. We’ll be scattered, distracted and extremely
vulnerable then. And because you spend time with the girls, out amongst the rest
of us, all four will know what’s going on. They can plan accordingly.”

Again Tobo did not get a word in before I said, “I would be.”

Lady reminded him, “You’ve never been a prisoner.”

“Now there’s a joke. I was born a prisoner. A prisoner of a prophecy by an old
woman who died years before I was born. A prisoner of the expectations of all
you people. Gods, I wish Hong Tray was wrong and I could’ve been a normal kid.”

“There aren’t any normal kids, Tobo,” I told him. “Just kids who fake it better
than the rest of us do.”

“And that name. Tobo. That was my baby name. Why does everybody still call me
that? Why didn’t we ever have a ceremony to give me a grown-up name?”

Nyueng Bao do that. And Tobo was years past the appropriate birthday.

Lady told him, “You’ll have to take that up with Uncle Doj. Meantime, the other
thing needs addressing right now. Blade is moving already. In three more days
Sleepy will curl back to the northeast and it’ll be too late to stop anything. I
want to be sure that we won’t get stabbed in the back just when things get
exciting.”

An hour after we nagged him Tobo asked Shukrat to go flying. He borrowed
Arkana’s log. Arkana was not pleased. When an hour later she told me Magadan had
said he did not mind if she used his post to join Shukrat and Tobo I told her,

“But I mind. If you need to talk to Tobo do it when he gets back.”

Arkana was the brightest of the Voroshk. She recognized that things were
tightening up.

When Tobo did return he stayed just long enough to round up Magadan. He took
Magadan flying. It was the first time Magadan had been aloft since he had
entered our keeping. He did not appear excited, which I would have expected.

They returned within a half hour. Magadan’s hand-me-downs, appropriated from
Gharhawnes’ former occupants, were ragged. He looked like he had been in a fight
and the other guy had kicked his butt. A good long way.

Tobo gave instructions for Magadan to be isolated, then found Arkana and took
her for a fly.

The ice queen, I noted, had replaced her confiscated robes with native garb that
served her to considerable visual advantage.

“Down, boy!” Lady said.

“It’s a good thing I didn’t run into her before I met you, isn’t it?”

That earned me a not entirely playful swat.

Arkana came back looking rougher than Magadan had. And she was not smiling.

Tobo had Arkana put in with Magadan. He collected Gromovol.

Gromovol was not interested in going anywhere with Tobo. Tobo insisted. They
were not gone long. Once they returned Tobo had the Voroshk returned to their
quarters. He gathered their flying posts in the main hall. Lady and I joined
him.

I asked, “What was that all about?”

“I took them out and dueled with them. Except for Shukrat.”

I stopped Lady before she explained—probably at great length—how unsmart doing
that could have proven. Sometimes she could fuss as much as Sahra. I said, “I’m
sure there was a reason.”

“I wanted to find out just how much we really do have to fear from them.”

“And?”

“They’re frauds. The only power they really have is what they draw from their
post and their clothing. Without those even Shukrat isn’t as powerful as One-Eye
was at the end. Gromovol is about Uncle Doj’s equal. Lady, even as weak as you
are right now, you could manage any of them but Shukrat.”

I snorted. “I guess that would explain why Gromovol’s pop was anxious to get the
kids back. Were most of the Voroshk limited talents? Were most of them carried
by a few strong members of the clan?”

“I’d guess that’s likely. The point, though, is that for right now there’s a
better chance our Voroshk will attack us with knives than with sorcery.” He
looked at us, saw no obvious eagerness to embrace his theory. “Don’t you think
that if they had any real power they would’ve used it to try to escape?”

I realized that he was upset. He had believed he was making friends with the
Voroshk. Our worries had led him to test that and he had learned that his
friends were not as close as he had hoped.

“You’re telling us we don’t have to kill them to be safe,” Lady said.

“That, too.”

“You have the Unknown Shadows at your command and you didn’t figure this out
until today?” Lady can find something to suspect in everything. I would suggest
we retire and settle down somewhere where we do not have to worry all the time
but she would suspect me of ulterior motives.

“I’ve thought it for a long time,” he admitted sullenly. “But the hidden folk
can’t report things that they don’t hear. The Voroshk don’t discuss their
weaknesses. Or much of anything else, actually. Because of their present
situation nobody likes anybody very much anymore.”

I said, “I didn’t want to kill them, anyway. Maybe I’d like to thump Gromovol a
little, now and then, but . . . ”

“So that’s settled. Heck, turn them loose if you want. Once they’ve had a dose
of the real world they’ll come back. Meantime, let me get to work on these
things.”

Lady asked, “You’ve finally found their secret? You can make more?”

“I’ve learned how to change who they recognize as their master. None of the
Voroshk know how the posts are made. They’re not even sure of the theory behind
them. I know more than they do just because I’ve studied the things. I don’t yet
know how they pull their magical power. But I don’t know how I do that, either.

Someday I will know. But it’ll be a long, slow, dangerous process, finding out.

They’re booby-trapped.”

I told him, “Life is booby-trapped, kid.”

As we left the hallway Lady was speculating on whether the original Voroshk had
invented their magics or if they had just stolen them from an ingenious but
unwary predecessor. I did not care, so long as no Voroshk made my life more
difficult than it already was.

The Taglian Territories:

Nightfliers in Dejagore
Three flying posts formed the goose flock formation. Tobo had the point with
Willow Swan riding pillion. Swan was in the throes of an apparently severe
religious relapse, muttering a continuous polysyllabic one-word prayer. With his
attitude toward heights he would be bruising Tobo by hanging on so tight. His
eyes would be closed so intently that he would have muscle cramps all the way
back to his ankles.

Lady and Shukrat flew the other posts. Lady had Aridatha Singh aboard behind
her. Shukrat carried Uncle Doj.

Murgen, Thai Dei and I shared the flying carpet with the Howler, whose shrieks
were being contained inside a big glass bowl sort of thing Lady had put over his
head. It worked well enough to save trouble with people who did not know we were
coming.

Murgen and Thai Dei were along only because Sahra had to be placated. She did
not want her baby going into harm’s way alone. People everywhere were irked
because the boy’s father and uncle had had to be flown back to Gharhawnes before
the raid could be launched. But Sahra had been stubborn and loud and Sleepy had
given in rather than lose a friend.

Sahra’s recollections of and fears of Dejagore remained abiding and
debilitating.

I hoped Murgen and Thai Dei handled it better, though at takeoff time Murgen had
been sweaty, pallid, shaking and appeared to be having trouble breathing. And
Thai Dei had seemed more self-engrossed than ever.

I had spoken to each alone and had tried telling each that I was counting on him
to keep an eye on the other and carry him if the emotional strain became too
much. I have found that assigning major external responsibilities like that can
get many of my brothers through times of deep emotional stress.

Howler kept the carpet in the pocket of the formation. We moved northward at a
pace that created a cold wind strong enough to pull the tears out of my eyes.

Murgen and I occupied the carpet’s rear corners. I told him, “I’d forgotten just
how much I don’t like this. Why didn’t I send some of those eager young bucks
from Hsien?”

“Because you’re just like every other recent Captain of the Company. You’ve got
to have your pointy nose right in the middle of things so you can make sure
things get done your way.”

Up ahead Tobo lifted the shutter on a red lantern. He winked the light several
times. There was an answering signal from the ground, miles off our track and
much farther forward than I expected.

Blade and the cavalry had made good time and were already in the ring of hills
surrounding Dejagore. The moon would rise in an hour. It would provide the light
they needed to filter through the hills and descend the inner slope.

We passed over the rim and discovered the scattered lights of Dejagore. We
slowed to a crawl. The flying posts gathered together. Aridatha tried to explain
to Tobo where we needed to go.

I told Murgen, “You should’ve gone with Tobo. You know Dejagore better than
anyone else.”

“Dejagore twenty-five years ago, maybe. It’s a whole new city since my day.

Aridatha belongs with him. It’s only been weeks since he was there.”

Few details could be distinguished by starlight but as we moved closer the walls
and main buildings matched my recollections almost exactly.

The logs formed up in line astern with Lady and Aridatha leading. Howler fell in
behind. We resumed moving.

Ten minutes later we were on the ground. Five minutes after that Aridatha
hustled us into his brother’s shop.

Sugriva Singh seemed to be a shorter and older version of Aridatha. He had done
well for himself. He had the whole downstairs of a building for his business and
everything above for his family—none of whom were ever in evidence.

Sugriva’s past good fortune assured his deep displeasure at our invasion. All of
a sudden he had ten villains in amongst the vegetables and only his brother and
the bountiful little blonde did not look willing to roast him for a prank. He
had a great deal to lose here. And maybe more to lose if he did not cooperate.

The Strangler cult was hated in the extreme in Dejagore. Just a whisper about
his relationship to the living saint of the Deceivers would destroy him and just
about anyone who had ever spoken to him.

Aridatha dispensed with introductions. Sugriva did not need to know his
visitors. Chances were, he recognized a few of us anyway.

Aridatha told his brother, “Our father is dead. He was murdered a few weeks ago.

Strangled.”

Sugriva was the elder by a decade. He remembered the Narayan Singh who had sold
vegetables and doted on his children before the invasion of the Shadowmasters.

He was stricken as Aridatha had not been stricken. “And that should be no
surprise, should it? Is that what you mean?” Sugriva said through tears that
might have been due as much to rage as to pain.

He needed a few minutes to collect himself.

To his credit Sugriva Singh did not rail against the inevitable. He understood
exactly how his arm was being twisted and, though events were not going to
proceed quite like Aridatha had led him to expect during his previous visit, he
chose to cooperate. He wanted to get it over as fast as he could, then he would
pray that the new administration would be as indifferent to him as he was to the
one presently in place.

Things were not exactly working out the way Aridatha had hoped they would,

either.

Sugriva said, “You haven’t chosen the best night to do this. The moon is going
to expose anyone moving toward the city from outside.”

Tobo chuckled. “You might be surprised. The night is our friend, brother
Sugriva.”

“I rather expect you’ll find that my father believed the same thing, young man.”

And his father’s son? Sugriva had been unhappy, even angry, when we turned up,

but not really surprised. What kind of vegetable dealer was not surprised to be
wakened in the night? Inside a city that closed its gates with fanatical
devotion when the sun’s lower limb touched the western hilltops?

Could Aridatha’s big brother be some sort of crook?

Aridatha told his brother, “The reason we’re troubling you is that we don’t know
how the gatekeeping is managed.”

“You told me before. I looked into it. There’s a company of soldiers assigned to
each gate. The west gate is the most closely controlled because it sees more
traffic than the other three put together.” One of Dejagore’s quirks was that
most of today’s roads to the city joined outside it, to the west, so there was
not much traffic elsewhere. The north and south gates were used only by people
involved in agriculture and its produce.

“The east gate looks like it should be the easiest to seize and control,”

Sugriva said. A true road did connect with the east gate but there was little
out that way but a few distant villages. “The guards are slackers, at all
levels. None of them are natives. None of them are old enough to remember the
last time Jaicur was attacked.” Sugriva had adopted the local accent and the
local name for the city when he had assumed a Dejagoran name.

The trouble with the east gate was that Blade was west of Dejagore. But he was
well ahead of schedule. There was time, before sunrise, if he hustled.

Tobo suggested, “Lady, why don’t you go tell Blade that it has to be the east
gate?”

“Because I’m going to be getting dressed.”

Widowmaker and Lifetaker were coming to the party. They had been away for far
too long.

Half a minute later Shukrat said, “I guess it’s time to find out if you can
really trust me, Tobo.”

I jumped in before the boy could speak. “I suppose so. Tell Blade not to waste
time. We need as much of the night as we can get. And we won’t stay unnoticed
long once we start. Tell him we’ll be waiting when he gets to the gate.”

A smile tickled Shukrat’s freckled, almost pudgy face. She bounced up onto her
toes and gave Tobo a peck on the cheek. Bold, bold behavior by any standard in
this part of the world. They must do things differently among the Voroshk.

She bounced away. Tobo was completely flustered. I grinned till Lady poked me in
the ribs. Evidently I was enjoying the bouncing part a little too much.

Murgen said, “I suggest we get to work here, folks. I don’t want to be inside
these walls a minute longer than I have to.” He was holding it together but the
strain was obvious.

Thai Dei was frazzled, too, and with even better reason. A lot of people very
close to him had died here during the siege. No matter how tough a man pretends
to be, such losses gnaw at his soul. Unless he is not human at all.

“The man has a point,” I said. “Start getting ready.”

Lady and I had the most to do. We had a big show to put on. We retreated into a
small separate room, colder than the main shop. As we strove to turn ourselves
into walking nightmares I asked, “Hon, have you really got that post-riding
stuff figured out?”

“It isn’t that hard. Except for staying on. Any idiot could do it. There are
some little black rods and slidy things you move around. You go up or down, or
faster or slower, or whatever, when you do. Why?”

“It occurs to me that it might be better for us and him both if we got Aridatha
back to Taglios. He’s been gone a long time. Mogaba needs to have him back where
he can show him off before news of tonight’s business gets around.”

She did not stop donning the Lifetaker armor but did look at me in a way that I
do not see often. It was like she was looking right through me, at all the
secret places inside. It was frightening sometimes.

“All right. We’ll have to move fast if I’m going to be aloft before daylight.”

“Will the log make it that far?” Not knowing how those things worked I did not
know what you might have to feed it, like a horse. The posts did seem to work on
a different principle than Howler’s flying carpets, which required a
strong-willed, powerful sorcerer to drive them. They demanded his undivided
attention every moment they were aloft.

“I’m sure it will. What do you want me to tell Mogaba?”

The long-time taunt, “My brother unforgiven,” came to mind, along with, “All
their days are numbered.” But this was not the time.