Bleak Seasons (11 page)

One-Eye stopped talking and stared at her. This was their first encounter, close
up and personal.

He grinned.

She did not faze him. He was two hundred years old. He had had obnoxious down to
a fine art generations before Mother Gota was born. He gave her a thumbs up,

sidled over to me grinning like a kid who had stubbed his toe on the pot at the
end of the rainbow. In Taglian he asked, “Want to make a formal introduction
here, Kid? I love her! She’s great! Everything I’ve ever heard. She’s perfect.

Give us a kiss here, lover.”

Maybe it was because Mother Gota was the only woman in Taglios shorter than him.

That was the only time I ever saw my mother-in-law at a loss for words.

Thai Dei and Uncle Doj seemed taken aback, too. One-Eye stalked Mother Gota
around the room. Finally, she fled.

“Perfect!” One-Eye crowed. “She’s absolutely perfect! The woman of my dreams.

Are you ready, Captain?”

Was he high on something?

“Yeah.” Croaker separated himself from his barely tasted tea. “Murgen, I want
you to come with us. It’s time to teach you some new tricks.”

I started to shake my head. I don’t know why, Sarie slipped her arm around me.

She was back now, avoiding her mother by being where I was. She felt my
reluctance, squeezed my arm. She looked up at me with those gorgeous almond
eyes, asking why I was troubled.

“I don’t know.” I figured we were going to interrogate the red-hand Deceiver.

That was not work I would enjoy.

Uncle Doj astonished me by asking, “May I accompany you, husband of my niece?”

“Why?” I blurted.

“I wish to inform my curiosity about what it is you people do.” He spoke to me
slowly, as though to an idiot. I do suffer from a severe birth defect, by his
thinking. I was not born Nyueng Bao.

At least he does not call me Bone Warrior and Stone Soldier anymore.

I never did figure that out.

I translated for the Old Man. He didn’t bat an eye. “Sure, Murgen. Why not? But
let’s get going before we all die of old age.”

What the hell? This was the guy who was sure the Nyueng Bao were up to no good.

I looked at the mass of paper One-Eye passed off on me. It smelled of mildew. I
would try to make something of it later. If anything could be made of it.

Knowing One-Eye it could well be written in a language he no longer remembered.

One-Eye’s Annals were as terrible as I expected. And then some. Water, mold,

vermin and criminal neglect had left most of his recollections irretrievable.

One recent memoir, though, did survive except for a page in the middle which was
just plain missing. It will serve to illustrate what One-Eye considers to be an
adequate chronicle.

He made up the spellings of most of the place names. I corrected to standard
where I could, from the maps, figure out where he had been.

In the fall of our third year in Taglios the Captain decided to send the
Khusavir Regiment to Prehbehlbed, where the Prahbrindrah Drah was campaigning
against a bevy of minor Shadowlander princes. Me and several Company comrades
were told to go along to give the new regiment backbone. The traitor Blade was
in the region.

The regiment proceeded through Ranji and Ghoja, Jaicur and Cantile, then Bhakur,

Danjil and other recently captured towns until, after two months, we overtook
the Prince at Prai-phurbed. There half the regiment split off to escort
prisoners of war and booty back to the north. The rest of us went west to
Asharan, where Blade caught us by surprise and we had to barricade the gates and
throw a lot of the natives off the wall because they might be spies. With my
talent we were able to hold out even though the green troops were terrified.

In Asharan we found a large store of wine and whiled away the hours of the
siege.

After a few weeks Blade’s men began to desert because of the cold and hunger and
he decided to go away.

It was a very cold winter. We suffered a great deal and often had to threaten
the natives to get enough food and firewood. The Prince kept us moving, mostly
far from the heavy fighting, because the regiment was not experienced. In
Meldermhai three men and I got drunk and missed marching when the regiment moved
out. We had to travel almost a hundred miles counting only upon ourselves in
order to catch up. Once we took four horses from a local lord after we stayed
over the night in his manor. We took his brandy, too. The noble complained to
the Prince and we had to give the horses back.

We spent a week at Forngaw, then the Prince ordered us south to High Nangel,

where we were supposed to join the Fourth Horse in trying to drive Blade’s
bandits into the Ruderal canyon, but when we got there we found only one old
woman in the whole territory and nothing to eat but rotting cabbages, most of
which the peasants had buried in the earth before they fled.

Then we went up to Silure by way of Balichore and in the forest there we found a
tavern almost like those in the north. While we were drunk an enemy witch sent
an attack of poisonous toads against us.

Next day we had to walk several miles through swamps and melting snow and cold
mud in a low place where warm water runs out of the earth and keeps everything
from freezing. After a few leagues we came to the fortress of Tracil, where a
regiment recruited from former Shadowlander soldiers were besieging their
Tracili cousins. They had been there a long time so it was difficult to find
provisions anywhere nearby, even when we offered to pay.

I worked three days in the field hospital there, where, because of the cold,

they treated many cases of frostbite. The cold killed more soldiers than did the
enemy.

From Tracil we marched up to Melopil with the Prince’s own guards and laid siege
to the local king’s fortress, which stands on an island in the middle of a lake.

The lake was frozen. It was very cold and the ice was very thick and every time
we tried to go forward against the enemy their missiles came bouncing over the
ice.

Shadowlanders were slaughtered with great vigor along with our men by engines
atop the walls until the garrison inside got the gates closed. Then the Howler
came up from Shadowcatch on his flying carpet and the magicks flew around like
lightning in a thunderstorm and we had to run away. Many were captured by the
enemy.

After two weeks passed orders came to march to join the siege at Rani Orthal. On
the way we found some wine and that ended in disaster, for the natives stole our
packs while we slept.

Forces gathered from all over, on both sides, and I began to fear a major
battle. That would draw the Howler to Rani Orthal.

After the city was surrounded the enemy made several attacks on our breastworks
and trenches, which resulted in heavy losses for them. After two weeks, when it
was starting to show spring, we launched a surprise attack at night which
carried the outer works right up to the stone wall. The soldiers killed
everybody, so angry were they, and so frightened to be fighting at night. When
they reached the top of the wall they threw down everyone, even the women and
children.

Then the Howler came up from Shadowcatch and with him a small swarm of shadows
and we had to abandon everything we had captured.

The Howler and shadows went away when the sun rose and the Prahbrindrah Drah
himself went forward to tell the enemy we were going to attack come evening and
this time no mercy would be shown, but the attack never took place because the
enemy king decided to throw in his lot with Taglios. The city gates were opened
and the town given over to the soldiers for one night but the men were allowed
no weapons except their daggers.

The soil in those parts is very poor. The crops are not of a delicate nature.

They eat much cabbage and roots, and rye is the common grain.

When we were in garrison at Thruthelwar for a month I befriended the landlord’s
son, a boy of about eleven, and found him intelligent but ignorant of both
religion and of reading and writing. His father reported that the Shadowmasters
have banned all religious practice and all education throughout their empire and
there were rewards out for books, especially older books, which were burned as
soon as they were turned in, and likewise there were rewards for priests who
tried to serve their faith, who were also burned as soon as they were turned in.

This rule must have pleased Blade very much.

After a month in garrison orders came for the regiment to return to Jaicur,

where Lady was gathering an army for a summer campaign in the east. At Jaicur I
left the regiment and travelled north to Taglios, where I was received with
great joy by my old companions of the Black Company.

The record of that campaign appears to be One-Eye’s most careful and detailed.

The remaining fragments suggest stories much less coherent.

The captive red-hand Deceiver awaited us in a room guaranteed proof against
sorcerous espionage. One-Eye swore he had woven the spells so well even Lady in
her heyday could not have picked through them to eavesdrop.

Croaker grumbled, “What Lady could do back when doesn’t concern me. I’m worried
about the Shadowmaster now. I’m worried about Soulcatcher now. She’s lying low
but she is out there and she does want to know everything about everything. I’m
worried about the Howler now. He wants a big bite of the Company.”

“It’s all right,” One-Eye insisted. “The Dominator himself couldn’t bust in
here.”

“What do you want to bet that’s exactly what Smoke thought about his spyproof
room?”

I shuddered. So did One-Eye. I had not witnessed Smoke’s destruction by the
monster that got into his hidden place through a pinhole in his protection, but
I had heard. “Whatever became of Smoke?” I asked. The monster had not killed
him.

Croaker lifted a finger to his lips. “Right around the corner.” I thought we
were going back to the room where Goblin, One-Eye and the Old Man wakened me
from my last seizure. I just assumed they had the red-hand Strangler there,

behind that curtain. Not so. We arrived at what seemed to be a different place
entirely.

And the Deceiver was not alone.

The Radisha Drah, sister of the ruling Prince, the Prahbrindrah Drah, leaned
against a wall and stared at the prisoner in a way that suggested she enjoyed a
conviction that the Liberator was soft on villains. Small and dark and wrinkled,

like most Taglian women who make it past thirty, she was one hard woman, and too
bright besides. They say the only time she ever lost her composure was the night
Lady killed all the senior members of Taglios’s various priesthoods, ending
religious resistance to her participation in the war effort as a key player.

There has been a lot less intrigue since that demonstration. Our allies and
employers now seem inclined to leave our destruction to us.

If you polled the Taglian nobilities and priesthoods you would find that most of
the upper classes believe the Radisha makes the princely decisions. Which is
near the truth. Her brother is stronger than is commonly supposed but he prefers
to be off soldiering.

Behind the Radisha stood a table. Upon the table lay a man. “Smoke?” I asked.

My question was answered. Smoke was still alive. And still in a coma. He had all
the muscle tone of a bowl of lard.

Behind him was the other side of a curtain identical to the one I saw when I
awakened. Then this was the same room, approached from a different direction.

Strange.

“Smoke,” Croaker agreed, and I realized I was being made privy to a major
secret.

“But . . . ”

“This character said anything interesting?” Croaker asked the Radisha, cutting
me off. She must have been amusing herself with the prisoner. And there must be
some reason the Captain did not want her paying too much attention to Smoke.

“No. But he will.”

The Strangler faked a sneer. A brave man but a fool. He, of all people, would
know what torture could do.

Once again I got that spine chill.

“I know. Let’s do it, One-Eye. Murgen kept us waiting long enough.”

The Annals. He held it off just so I could get it into the Annals.

He did not have to bother. I am not a big torture enthusiast.

One-Eye started humming. He patted the prisoner’s cheek. “You’re going to have
to help me out here, sweetheart. I’ll be as kind as you let me. What’s this
thing you Stranglers got going here in Taglios?” One-Eye looked to the Captain,

“When’s Goblin coming back, Chief?”

“Get on with it.”

One-Eye did something. The Strangler spasmed against his bonds, his scream not
much more than a breathless squeak. One-Eye said, “But I found him the perfect
woman, Boss. Ain’t that right, Kid?” He leered evilly, bent over the Deceiver.

That brown raisin of a man wore nothing but a filthy loincloth.

So that was why One-Eye was so excited about Mother Gota. He wanted to use her
as a practical joke on Goblin. I should have been angry, I guess, maybe for
Sahra’s sake, but I could work up no indignation. That woman begged for abuse.

One-Eye crooned, “You understand your position here, sweetheart? You were with
Narayan Singh when we caught you. You have the red hand. Those things tell me
you’re one of those very special Deceivers that the Captain really wants.” He
indicated Croaker. The word for Captain he used was jamadar, which has strong
religious connotations to the Deceivers.

Lady got taken in by them but she fixed them by marking their top men
permanently with the red hand. That made them stand out in the crowd these days.

One-Eye sucked spit between the stumps of his teeth. Somebody who did not know
him might have believed he was thinking. He said, “But I’m a swell guy who hates
to see people hurting so I’m gonna give you a chance not to end up like this
cockroach over here.” He jerked a thumb at Smoke. Fire crackled between the
fingers of his other hand. The Strangler screamed the kind of scream that rips
your nerves out raw and salts their ends. “You can make this last forever or you
can get it over quick. All up to you. Talk to me about what the Deceivers are up
to here in Taglios.” He leaned closer, whispered, “I can even fix it so you can
get away.”

The prisoner gaped for a moment. Sweat ran into his eyes, stung him. He tried to
shake it away.

“I bet that she’d think that Goblin is just as cute as a bug,” One-Eye said.

“What do you think, Kid?”

“I think you’d better get on with it,” Croaker snapped. He was not happy dealing
in torture and had no patience left for the games Goblin and One-Eye play with
one another.

“Oh, keep your damned pants on, Chief. This guy ain’t going nowhere.”

“But his friends are up to something.”

I glanced at Uncle Doj to see what the thought of the bickering. His face was
stone. Maybe he didn’t understand Taglian anymore.

One-Eye barked, “You don’t like the way I do my job, fire me and do it
yourself.” He prodded the prisoner. The Deceiver tensed in anticipation. “You.

What’s up here in Taglios? Where are Narayan and the Daughter of Night? Help me
out here.”

I tensed up myself. I felt a big chill. What was it?

The prisoner gulped air. Sweat covered his entire body. He could not win. If he
knew anything and talked as he must eventually his own kind would show him no
mercy later.

“Sufficient unto the day the evil thereof,” Croaker told him, sensing his
thoughts.

My sympathies all lay with the Old Man. Even if he ever does get his daughter
back he won’t find what he is looking for. She has been a Deceiver from the day
she was born, raised to be the Daughter of Night who will bring on Kina’s Year
of the Skulls. Hell, they consecrated her to Kina while she was still in the
womb. She would be what they wanted her to be. And that would be a darkness to
break her parents’ hearts.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. Tell me what I need to know.” One-Eye tried to keep it
one on one, just him and his client. He gave the Strangler a moment to reflect.

The rest of us watched without expression, maybe a thimbleful of pity among us.

This was a black rumel man. In Strangler terms, generally, that meant he was
guilty of more than thirty murders, without remorse—unless he strangled a black
rumel man and thus gained acclaim by the most direct route.

Kina is the ultimate Deceiver. She enjoys betraying her own on occasion.

An argument One-Eye did not think to present to our pet Deceiver.

The Strangler screamed again, tried to gurgle something.

“You’ll have to speak up,” One-Eye told him.

“I can’t tell you. I don’t know where they are.”

I believed him. Narayan Singh was not staying alive by announcing his
itineraries in a world where everybody really is out to get him.

“Pity. So just tell us why we have Deceivers here in Taglios, after all this
time.”

I wondered why he kept going back to that. The Stranglers had not dared to
operate in the city for years.

One-Eye and the Old Man must know something. But how?

The prisoner screamed.

The Radisha observed, “The ones we catch are always ignorant.”

“Don’t matter,” Croaker said. “I know exactly where Singh is. Or at least where
he’ll be when he stops running. As long as he doesn’t realize that, I know he’ll
always be right where I want him.”

Uncle Doj’s eyebrow twitched. Must be getting exciting for him.

The Radisha glared, frowned, stared. She liked to believe that hers was the only
working brain in the Palace. Us Black Company types are just supposed to be
hired muscle. You could almost hear the creaks and groans as her mind turned
over. How could Croaker know something like that? “Where is he?”

“Right now he’s busting his butt trying to join up with Mogaba. Since we can’t
stop him—because he’s moving as fast as any message we could send after
him—let’s forget him.”

I considered offering a word of suggestion about crows. Croaker talks to crows.

And crows fly faster than even a Deceiver can run. I was not paid to think and I
was not there to talk.

“Forget him?” The Radisha seemed startled.

“Just for the moment. Let’s find out what his cronies are up to here.”

One-Eye resumed work. I glanced at Uncle Doj, who had stayed out of the way and
quiet longer than I had thought possible. He noticed my glance. In Nyueng Bao he
asked, “May I question the man?”

“Why?”

“I would test his belief.”

“You don’t speak Taglian well enough.” Little dig there.

“Then translate.”

Just for fun, or maybe to nudge Uncle Doj, Croaker said, “I don’t mind if he
does, Murgen. He can’t do any damage.” His remark demonstrated clearly his
familiarity with Nyueng Bao dialect. There had to be a message in that, meant
for Uncle Doj particularly when taken with his earlier observation about Ash
Wand’s provenance.

What the hell? I was confused. And getting more than a little paranoid myself.

Had I come back to my own world after my most recent seizure?

In Taglian as passable as I recalled him having, Uncle Doj shot quick, amiable
questions at the Deceiver. They were questions of the sort most people answer
without thought. We learned that the man had a family but his wife had died in
childbirth. Then he realized he was being manipulated and controlled his tongue.

Uncle Doj stamped around like a merry troll, chattering, and winkled out much of
the prisoner’s past but not once did he get any closer to the facts of any new
Strangler interest in Taglios the city. Croaker, I noticed, paid more attention
to Uncle Doj than he did the prisoner. The Captain, of course, lives in the eye
of a tornado of paranoia.

Croaker leaned close to me. In a midnight whisper he said, “You stay when the
others leave.” He did not tell me why. He went on to say something to One-Eye in
a tongue even I did not understand.

He spoke at least twenty languages, he had been with the Company so long.

One-Eye probably spoke a bunch more but shared them with nobody but Goblin.

One-Eye nodded and continued about his business.

Pretty soon the runt wizard began edging Uncle Doj and the Radisha toward the
door. He did it so gently and smoothly that they never complained. Uncle Doj was
a guest to begin with and the Radisha did have pressing business elsewhere and
One-Eye went about it so unlike his usual abrasive self that he had them
thinking it was their own idea. In any event, they left.

Croaker went with them, which helped, but he was back in five minutes. I told
him, “Now I’ve seen everything. There are no wonders left. I can get out of this
chicken outfit and go ahead with my plan to start a turnip ranch.” Which was
only halfway a jest. Whenever the Company stops moving guys begin developing
plans. Human nature, I guess.

The turnip is unknown here but I have seen vast tracts of land perfect for
cultivating turnips, parsnips and sugar beets. And Otto and Hagop are not far
away so seed should be available soon. Maybe they will even bring some potatoes.

Croaker grinned, told One-Eye, “This weasel isn’t going to tell us anything we
can use.”

“You know what it is, Chief? I’ll bet you. He’s stalling. He’s got something
he’s trying to hold onto just a little while longer. That’s what goes through
his head every time I hurt him. He thinks he will endure it just one more time.

And then just one more time.”

“Let him get thirsty for a while.” Croaker shoved the Deceiver’s chair over
against a wall, tossed a piece of ragged linen over him as though he was
discarded furniture. “Murgen, listen up. Time is getting tight. Things are going
to start happening. I need you in the first rank, healed or not.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

He didn’t feel like joking. “We’ve discovered some interesting things about
Smoke.” Suddenly he was speaking the Jewel Cities dialect, unknown outside the
Company here, unless Mogaba was lurking around. “We stalled because of your
lapses and what they might signify, but we have to move on. It’s time to take
chances. There are some new tricks you need to learn, old dog.”

“You trying to scare me?”

“No. This is important. Pay attention. I don’t have time to work Smoke anymore.

Neither does One-Eye. The arsenal is eating up all his time. And I don’t trust
anybody else but you to help with this.”

“Huh? You’re going too fast for me.”

“Pay attention. And by that I mean keep your ears and eyes open and your mouth
shut. We may not get much time. The Radisha could decide to come back and
torment the Deceiver again. She likes that sort of thing.” He told One-Eye,

“Remind me to see if we can’t get Cordy Mather assigned here permanently. She
doesn’t get underfoot when he’s around.”