Shadow Games: The Fourth Chronicles of the Black Company: First Book of the South (26 page)

Only One-Eye failed to keep a straight face.

The Prahbrindrah’s other lieutenant was his enigmatic sister. Put them together
and it was obvious she was older and probably tougher than he. Even dressed up
she looked like she had been ridden hard and put away wet
When the Prahbrindrah asked about my companions I introduced Mogaba as my
commander of infantry and Lady as my chief of staff. The idea of a woman soldier
amazed him. I wondered how much more amazed he would be if he knew her history.

She concealed surprise at the designation. As much for her benefit as the
Prahbrindrah’s, I said, “There’s nobody in the Company more qualified. With the
possible exception of the Captain, each post is filled on merit.”

Swan was doing the translating. He skirted the edge of the Prahbrindrah’s reply,

which, I think, actually suggested limited agreement. His sister seemed to be
his brain trust.

“To the point,” I told Swan. “Time is too tight if we’re going to stop an
invasion.”

Swan smiled. “Then you’re going to accept the commission?”

You never doubted it for a second, you jackal. “Don’t get your hopes too high,

man. I’m going to make a counteroffer. Its terms won’t be negotiable.”

Swan’s smile vanished. “I don’t understand.”

“I’ve looked at the land. I’ve talked with my people. Despite the lay, most of
them want to go on. We know what we have to do to get to Khatovar. Meaning we’ll
consider doing the job your prince wants done. But we won’t try it except on our
terms. Tell him that, then I’ll give him the sad news.”

Swan translated. The Prahbrindrah did not look happy. His sister looked like she
wanted a fight. Swan faced me. “Let’s have it.”

“If I’m supposed to run an army that I’ll have to build from scratch, I want to
have the power to do it. I want to be the boss. No interference from anybody. No
political crap. No cult feuding. Even the will of the Prince will have to yield
for the duration. I don’t know if there’s a Taglian word for what I want. I
can’t think of a Rosean word, either. In the Jewel Cities the man in the job I
want is called ‘dictator.’ They elect him for a year at a time. Tell him that.”

Was the Prahbrindrah happy? Sure he was. About as happy as any prince in that
fix. He started lawyering, trying to bury me in ifs, ands, and buts. I smiled a
lot.

“I said I wouldn’t negotiate, Swan. I meant it. The only chance I see is for us
to do what needs doing when it’s got to be done, not six weeks later, after the
ruffled feathers have been smoothed, the special interests have had their say,

and the graft has been got out.”

Mogaba had on the biggest smile I’d ever seen from him. He was having fun
listening. Maybe he’d always wanted to talk that way to his bosses in Gea-Xle.

I said, “The way I hear it, in about five weeks the rivers will be down enough
that the Shadowmasters can put their troops across the Main. They won’t have
internal problems slowing them down. They’ll have every advantage but the Black
Company on their side. So if the Prahbrindrah wants even a prayer of winning, he
has to give me the tools I need. If he doesn’t, I walk. I find some other way. I
won’t commit suicide.”

Swan translated. We sat around looking tough and professional and stubborn. Lady
and Mogaba did fine. I thought I might blow it by being nervous, but I did not.

The Prahbrindrah never tried to call my bluff. He argued, but never so hard I
might lose my temper and stomp out. I never gave an inch. I honestly believed
that the only chance, and that a ghost of a hope, lay in an absolute military
dictatorship. And I had a little inside word, thanks to Frogface.

“Hey, Swan. Are these people in even bigger trouble than they’ve admitted?”

“What?” He cast a nervous glance at the imp.

“Your boss isn’t trying to talk me out of anything. He’s lawyering. Politicking.

Wasting time. I get the feeling that down deep he’s scared to death. He agrees
with me. Only he don’t want to have to make the choice between evils. Because
then he has to live with his choice.”

“Yeah. Maybe. The Shadowmasters are going to be coming mean after what we did
last summer. Going to make an example of us, maybe.”

“I’ll want the veterans of that business. We’ll turn them into squad leaders.

Assuming I get to be boss soldier around here.”

“There is an archaic Taglian word meaning warlord. You’ll get your way. It’s
been argued out in council. The High Priests don’t like it, but they don’t have
any choice. Priests were the first people the Shadowmasters rubbed out wherever
they took over. He can make any deal he has to. They’re scared, man. After you
win is when you got to start worrying.”

All I had to do was go on sitting tight. But I had come into the meeting with
that assurance from Frogface.

The damned imp grinned and winked at me.

The day rolled on into night and we had to have another meal, but we sealed our
pact.

For the first time since Juniper the Company had a real commission.

Or vice versa.

The Prahbrindrah wanted to know my plans. He was not dumb. He knew Mogaba had
been putting in twenty-hour days.

“Put together a big flashy show for the gang that comes across the Main, mostly.

But we’ll recruit and train for harder times down the line too, assuming we
handle that first bunch. While we’re at it, we’ll get an idea of what resources
are available and how best to employ them. We’ll root out enemy agents here and
try to establish our own over there. We’ll learn the terrain where the fighting
may take place. Swan. I keep hearing about how little time we have till the
rivers go down. How long will they stay down? How long till the next grace
period?”

He translated, then said, “There’ll be six to seven months when there won’t be
enough rain to close the fords. Even after the rainy season starts there’ll be
two or three months when they’re passable part of the time.”

“Wonderful. We got here in the middle of the safe season.”

“Just about. We could get more than five weeks. That’s a worst estimate.”

“We can count on it, then. Tell him we’ll need a lot of help from the state. We
have to have weapons, armor, mounts, rations, drays, drayage, equipment. We need
a census of all males between sixteen and forty-five, with their skills and
occupations. I want to know who to conscript if I don’t get volunteers. A census
of animals would be helpful. Likewise, a census of weapons and equipment
available. And a census of fortifications and places that could be used as
fortresses. You should know a lot of this from last summer. Do you write the
lingo here, Swan?”

He translated, then said, “No. I can’t figure out the alphabet. ’Course, I never
learned to read or write Rosean, neither.” He grinned. “Not Cordy, neither.”

“Blade?”

“You kidding?”

“Wonderful. Find me somebody who can. It’s all right if he’s one of the
Radisha’s spies. Two birds with one stone. I’ll want you and him both attached
to me at the hip till I learn the language. All right. What I need right now is
for him to get out the word that volunteers should assemble in the Chandri
Square an hour after dawn tomorrow.” The Chandri Square was near our barracks
and one of the biggest in Taglios. “They should bring any weapons or equipment
they have. We’ll pick twenty-five hundred to start training immediately and
enroll the rest for later.”

“You may be too optimistic.”

“I thought these people were eager to get into it.”

“They are. But tomorrow is a holy day for the Gunni cults. That takes in
four-tenths of the lower classes. When they sit down nobody else can do
anything, either.”

“There aren’t any holidays in a war. They better get used to that right now.

They don’t show up, that’s tough. They get left behind. Tell the Prince to
spread the word that the guys who volunteer earliest are the guys who’re going
to get the best deal. But everybody starts at the bottom. Even him, if he
enlists. I don’t know the class structures here and I don’t care. I’ll make a
prince carry a spear and have a farm boy command a legion if that’s what the man
can do best.”

“That attitude’s going to cause problems, Cap. And even if they elect you god
you’re going to have to walk careful around the priests.”

“I’ll deal with them when I have to. The politics I can probably handle. I can
twist arms and smooth fur if I have to, though mainly I just won’t put up with
it. Tell the Prince he should hang around my headquarters some. Things will go
smoother if people think he’s part of what’s happening.”

Swan and the Prince chattered. The Radisha gave me a searching look, then a
smile that said she knew what I was up to. The devil in me made me wink.

Her smile broadened.

I decided I should know more about her. Not because I was attracted to her but
because I suspected I would like the way she thought. I like a person with a
sound cynical attitude.

Old Smoke, the so-called fire chief, did nothing all evening but nod off and
start awake. Being a cynic, I approved of him as a public official. The best
kind are those who stay the hell out of the way and don’t mess with things.

Except for me, of course.

“One thing left for tonight,” I told Swan. “Financing. The Black Company don’t
come cheap. Neither does creating, arming, training, and maintaining an army.”

Swan grinned. “They got you covered, Cap. Back when they first heard the
prophecies of your coming they started raising money. It won’t be a problem.”

“It’s always a problem.”

He smiled. “You won’t be able to spend like there ain’t no bottom to the bucket.

The Woman hangs on to the purse strings around here. And she’s famous for being
tight.”

“Good enough. Ask the Prince if there’s anything else he needs now. I’ve got a
ton of stuff to do.”

There was another hour of talk, none of it important, all of it the Prahbrindrah
and Radisha trying to get an idea what I was planning, trying to get a clearer
picture of my character and competence. Giving a stranger life-and-death power
over their state was one long bet for them. I figured I’d do a little something
to help their underground scheme.

I became impatience itself, but was proud of me. I controlled it.

Walking home after dark, without crowds, I asked Lady, “Can we count on
Shifter’s help?”

“He’ll do what I tell him.”

“You’re sure?”

“Not absolutely. It looks that way, though.”

“Could he do some scouting over Shadowmaster country? Shifting into something
that flies?”

“Maybe.” She smiled. “But he wouldn’t have strength enough to carry you. And I
know you. You wouldn’t trust a report from anybody but you.”

“Well . . . ”

“You’ll have to take your chances. Trust him as much as you dare. He’ll serve me
if I command him. But he isn’t my slave. He has his own goals now. They may not
be your goals.”

I thought it might be a good time to sneak up on something I’d been sliding
around since I’d caught her playing with fire in a cup overlooking Gea-Xle. “And
your own restored talent?”

She was not fazed. “You’re kidding. I might bother Goblin if I sneaked up on him
and hit him with a hammer. Otherwise, I’m useless. Even small talents have to be
exercised to be any good. There’s no time for exercise.”

“I guess we’ll all just do what we can.”

Mogaba said, “I have several ideas for disarming problems arising from religious
friction. At least temporarily.”

“Speaking of which. I need to carve on that priest’s kid. One-Eye, I’ll need you
to back me up. Go ahead, Mogaba.”

His notion was straightforward. We would raise our own army without regard to
religion and use it to meet the Shadowmasters’ main thrust. We would encourage
the cults to raise their own forces and use them to meet threats that appeared
at the secondary fords. But we would not surrender our claim to supreme command.

I laughed. “I have a feeling you’re looking for a repeat of the debacle of last
summer when—”

“Nothing should disarm them more thoroughly than failures and displays of
incompetence. I thought we ought to give them their chances.”

“Sounds good to me. Work up a couple of questions for recruits so we can get the
drift of their religious commitment and tolerance when we sign them up. You want
to tell me how to find this guy Jahamaraj Jah?”

It had been years since I hazarded internal surgery. Before I started I was
shaky and filled with doubts, but habit took hold in the crunch. My hand was
steady. One-Eye restrained his natural exuberance and used his talents
judiciously to control bleeding and deaden pain.

As I washed my hands I said, “I can’t believe it went that well. I haven’t done
one of those since I was a kid, practically.”

“She going to pull through?” One-Eye asked.

“Should. Unless there’re complications. I want you to check back every day to
make sure she’s doing all right.”

“Hey, Croaker. I got me an idea. Why don’t you buy me a broom?”

“What?”

“When I wasn’t busy doing anything else I could be sweeping up.”

“I’ll get myself one, too.” I spoke to the child’s parents briefly, through
Frogface, clueing them in on what had to be done. Their gratitude was stifling.

I doubted it would last. People are that way. But as we were about to leave I
told the father, “I’ll collect on this.”

“Anything.”

“It won’t be trivial. When the time comes.”

He understood. He looked grim as he nodded.

We were about to step into the street when One-Eye said, “Hold up.” He pointed.

I looked down at three dead bats arranged in a neat equilateral triangle. “Maybe
the boys aren’t imagining things.” The bat cadavers were not neat.

A crow cawed somewhere nearby.