Of material things I saw little but the clothing the people wore, a few ragged blankets, a couple of clay cups and a pot maybe used for cooking. And more swords nearly as long and fine as that carried by the Speaker’s son.

  In the darkness beyond the candlelight someone groaned. It was the sound of someone delirious.

  “Sit,” Ky Dam invited. A second mat lay unrolled beside the candle. In the weak light the old man seemed more frail than when he visited the wall.

  I sat. Though I wasn’t used to it and my tendons weren’t supple enough, I tried to cross my legs.

  I waited.

  Ky Dam would invite me to speak when it was time.

  I tried to concentrate on the old man, not the people staring at me, nor the smell of too many folks living in too small a space, of their strange foods, nor even the odor of sickness.

  A woman brought tea. How she made it I don’t know. I never saw any fire. I didn’t think about that at the moment, though, so startled was I. She was beautiful. Even in dirt and rags, incredibly beautiful. I brought the hot tea to my lips and scalded them to shock myself back to business.

  I felt sorrow instantly. This one would pay dearly when the southerners took the town.

  A small smile touched Ky Dam’s lips. I noticed amusement on the face of the old woman, too, and recognized there a similar beauty only externally betrayed by time. They were used to my initial reaction. Maybe it was some kind of test, bringing her out of the shadows. Almost too softly to be heard, the old man said, “She is indeed.” Louder, he added, “You are wise beyond your years, Soldier of Darkness.”

  What was this Soldier of Darkness crap? Every time he addressed me he stuck me with another name.

  I tried a formal head bow of acknowledgment. “Thank you for that compliment, Speaker.” I hoped he would realize that I was incapable of keeping up with the subtleties of proper manners amongst the Nyueng Bao.

  “I sense in you a great anxiety held in check only by chains of will.” He sipped tea calmly but eyed me in a way that told me hastiness would be tolerated if I thought it really necessary.

  I said, “Great evils stalk the night, Speaker. Unexpected monsters have slipped their leashes.”

  “So I surmised when you were kind enough to permit me atop your section of wall.”

  “There is a new beast loose. One I never expected to see.” In retrospect I realize we were speaking of two different things. “One I do not know how to handle.” I strove to keep my Taglian pronunciations clear. Men conversing in a tongue native to neither sorely tempt the devils of misunderstanding.

  He seemed puzzled. “I do not understand you.”

  I glanced around. Did all his people live like this all the time? They were packed in way tighter than we were. Of course, we could enforce our claims to space with our swords. “Do you know about the Black Company? Do you know our recent history?” Rather than await an answer I sketched our immediate past.

  Ky Dam was one of those rare people who listened with every ounce of his being.

  I finished. The old man said, “Time has, perhaps, made of you shadows of the Soldiers of Darkness. You have been gone so long and have journeyed so far that you have strayed from your Way completely. Nor are the followers of the warrior prince Mogaba hewing any nearer the true path.”

  I did not hide my thoughts well. Ky Dam and his woman found me amusing again. “But I am not one of you, Standardbearer. My knowledge has drifted far from the truth as well. Perhaps there is no real truth today because there is no one who knows it anymore.”

  I didn’t have a clue what the hell he was talking about.

  “You have wandered long and far, Standardbearer. But you may yet come home again.” His expression darkened momentarily. “Though you wish that you had not. Where is your standard, Standardbearer?”

  “I don’t know. It vanished during the big battle on the plain outside. I jammed its butt into the earth when I decided to put on my Captain’s armor in order to pretend that he had not fallen, so the troops would rally, but.…”

  The old man raised a hand. “I think it may be very close tonight.”

  I hate this obscurity crap old people and wizards like to perpetrate. I am convinced that they do it only because it gives them a feeling of power. Screw the missing standard. It was not germane, now, tonight. I said, “The Nar chieftain wants to be Captain of the Black Company. He does not approve of the ways of those of us from the far north.”

  I paused but the old man had dried up. He waited.

  I said, “Mogaba is flawless as a warrior but he has shortcomings in some areas of leadership.”

  Ky Dam then proved to be less than the totally inscrutable and eternally patient old-timer you are led to expect in these situations.

  “You came to warn me that he has chosen to lessen his problems by letting southerners do his knifework, Standardbearer?”

  “Huh?”

  “One of my grandsons was in a position to overhear while Mogaba debated tonight’s actions with his lieutenants Ochiba, Sindawe, Ranjalpirindi and Chal Ghanda Ghan. Because Taglian conspirators were present the Nar failed to squabble in their native tongue—though Mogaba showed limited facility with the Taglian.”

  “Excuse me? Sir?”

  “What your honor compels you to report to me, although you only harbor suspicions now, is far worse than you fear. Overruling strong objections by his Nar lieutenants, Mogaba set forth a plan for tonight which will allow southerners who reach the ramparts and do not dally there to have their ways behind the wall. Taglian legionnaires will discourage them from attacking any direction but through our quarter into yours.”

  “You knew already? That what you’re saying? Before I got here you had an actual witness?”

  “Thai Dei.”

  A young man rose. He was an unpleasant-looking skinny little guy who held a toddler in his arms.

  Ky Dam said, “He does not speak Taglian well but he understands it good enough. He overheard the plot being hatched. He overheard the arguments of those who found it dishonorable. He saw an angry Mogaba go so far as to continue during the visit of a man believed to be an instrument of the Shadowmasters.”

  That hit me. It meant that, as of that moment, there existed a tacit agreement between Mogaba and Shadowspinner good until me and mine had been obliterated.

  “This is cruel treachery indeed, Speaker.”

  Ky Dam nodded. Then he told me, “There is more, Stone Soldier. Both Ranjalpirindi and Ghanda Ghan are intimates of the Prahbrindrah Drah. Speaking with the Prince’s voice they assured Mogaba that, once the siege has been broken and your band has been eliminated, the Prince will announce his personal support of Mogaba’s captaincy of your company. In exchange Mogaba will abandon your previous Captain’s quest to become chief warlord of Taglios. With all powers necessary to prosecute the war against the Shadowlands.”

  “Man, that was some job of eavesdropping.” Thai Dei almost smiled.

  “And some job of treachery put together by Brother Mogaba.”

  I could see why Ochiba and Sindawe would argue against it. It was a betrayal almost beyond comprehension.

  Mogaba had, indeed, gone through some dark changes since Gea-Xle.

  I asked, “What does he have against you people?”

  “Nothing. Politically he should be indifferent to us. We have never been a factor in Taglian affairs. But we mean nothing to him in any other way, either. He is eager to spend us like found coin. If the southerners attack you after fighting his forces, then us, huge numbers of his enemies and us resource-gulping undesirables will have been eliminated.”

  “Once I admired this man greatly, Speaker.”

  “Men change, Standardbearer. And this one more than most. He is an actor and but one wicked purpose impels all his acting.”

  “Speaker?”

  “This Mogaba is the center of, and the reason for, everything that Mogaba does. Mogaba will sacrifice his best friend upon an altar to himself, though p
robably not even a god could convince the friend that that possibility exists. Mogaba’s every wicked order draws another veil off the black blotch devouring his soul. He has changed as the most perfect pomegranate will change when the mold gets inside its skin.”

  Here we go, talking old-timer sideways again.

  “Standardbearer! Though I know of the black danger to my people already I am honored that you believed us worthy of a warning, however pressing your other concerns. That was an act of generosity and friendship. We do not forget those who have extended their hands.”

  “Thank you. I am pleased by your response.” You’d better believe. “And if Mogaba allows you to be attacked…”

  “The problem is upon us already, Stone Soldier. Southerners are dying right now, only yards away. Once it became evident that we were trapped here we all learned every nuance of the ground upon which we might fight. This is not our swamp but the principles of battle remain the same. We have been prepared for this night for many weeks. It remained to be seen only who would chose to become our enemy.”

  “Huh?” I could be stupid as a stone when I ran into something cold.

  “You should rejoin those who look to you for leadership. Do so secure in the knowledge that you have the friendship of the Nyueng Bao.”

  “An honor.”

  “Or curse.” The old man chuckled.

  “Does that mean your people will actually talk to mine?”

  “That might be a little too much.” He chuckled again. His wife smiled, too. What a wild joker he was! The man was a laugh riot. He said, “Thai Dei. Go with this man. You may speak if spoken to, but only as my mouth. Bone Warrior. This is my grandson. He will understand you. Send him to me if you have a need to communicate. Do not be frivolous.”

  “I understand.” I tried to get up, embarrassed myself by failing to get my legs untangled. One of the kids laughed. I dared glance around for a reaction from the dream woman who brought the tea, sure I was not fooling Ky Dam. A baby slept in her lap. A toddler dozed under her left arm. She was awake, watching. She looked tired, frightened, confused and determined. About like the rest of us. Whenever that moaning came from the darkness she winced and looked that way. The pain was a part of her.

  I bowed myself out. The Nyueng Bao Thai Dei led me back to familiar territory.

  26

  “I don’t know,” I told Goblin when he asked about my Nyueng Bao shadow. “He don’t talk much.” I had not gotten a word out of him yet. “His all-purpose vocabulary seems to be the noncommittal grunt. Anyway, the visit wasn’t necessary. The Nyueng Bao know more about the coming shit rain than we do. The old man admits it’s all Mogaba’s fault and says we’re off the hook.”

  Goblin made as though to look over his shoulder like he was trying to check his own behind.

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “Strap on your chastity belt. What’s happening?” I didn’t see Bucket or Sparkle.

  “Not much yet. Spinner and his bunch just got to the hills.”

  And all kinds of excitement broke out out there. A strong pink light cast silhouettes on the night again. Goblin said, “They look exactly like the Lifetaker and Widowmaker costumes Lady made for her and Croaker. Hey! How come you look like you got bit on the ass by a ghost?”

  “Because maybe I did. They do look exactly like what you say. Only if you remember I took the Widowmaker armor off Croaker after that arrow got him. I put it on and pretended to be him. And failed because I started too late.”

  “So?”

  “So last week somebody stole the Widowmaker armor. Right out of my quarters while I was laying there asleep. I thought I had it hidden where nobody but me could ever find it. But somebody came in, stepped over me, got it dug out, and got out of there with the load and I never saw or heard a thing. And neither did anybody else.” And that was definitely scary.

  “Is that why you were asking all those weird questions the other day?” Goblin squeaked. He could sound like a stomped mouse when he was distressed.

  “Yeah.”

  “How come you never said anything?”

  “Because whoever took the armor had to use sorcery to get past me. I figured it was one of you guys and I wanted to find out which one so I could cut him off at the ankles before he knew it was coming.”

  One-Eye came puffing up the stairs. Not bad for a guy two hundred years old. “What gives? How come the grim faces?”

  Goblin filled him in.

  The little black wizard grumped, “You should have told us, Murgen. We might have picked up a hot trail.”

  Not likely. The only evidence I had found was one small white feather and a glob of what looked like bird shit. “It don’t matter now. I know where the armor is. Out there.” I pointed at the hills, which lay beneath what looked like a premature pink dawn. “What did you do?”

  “We killed off a bunch of goddamned southerners, that’s what we did. Mogaba must be selling them tickets over there. The little suckers are thicker than lice. Anyway, we got out before we used up our luck. Them Nyueng Bao are really going bug fuck.” He gave Thai Dei the fish-eye. “Looks like they’re trying to make the Shadowlanders want to go chomp on Mogaba’s rear. Serve the asshole right, he gets ate up by his own plot. What the hell is going on out there?” He meant the pink-soaked hills.

  Goblin replied, “That’s something we weren’t looking for.”

  A gout of darkness reared against the pink. Human figures tumbled within it. They flared, burned like bright, brief-lived stars. Moments later an earth tremor rocked the city. I lost my footing briefly.

  One-Eye observed, “For once you’re right, runt. There’s a player in the game we didn’t know about.”

  A pair of crows a few yards off went into hysterics. They jumped into the darkness, kept laughing as they flapped away.

  “Surprise, surprise,” I muttered. “What with all that booming and crashing and crap in those hills. Come on, guys! Tell me who. The rest even a dummy like me can figure out. So just tell me who.”

  “We’re gonna work on that,” One-Eye promised. “Maybe we’d even start now if you went away and left us alone. Come on, runt.”

  While him and his frog-faced buddy got to work I turned my attention to the excitement still festering inside Dejagore.

  Possibly thousands of Shadowlanders had crossed the wall now. A lot of fires were burning. I asked Ky Dam’s grandson, “Will the light be trouble for your people?”

  He shrugged.

  This fellow was no gossip.

  27

  There was no night now. Fires burned everywhere. They burned in the Shadowlander camp, set by Mogaba’s beleaguered artillerymen. They burned in the city, set by the Shadowmaster’s soldiers. Conflagrations blazed in the hills, hinting of surprise volcanos or powers of a magnitude unseen since the Company went up against the dark lords of Lady’s empire. It was too much light for the middle of the night. “How long till dawn? Anybody know?”

  “Too long,” Bucket grumbled. “You really think anybody is actually worrying about keeping time tonight?”

  Way back, centuries earlier in the evening, One-Eye or Goblin or somebody expressed dawn as a goal too remote for hope. The general level of optimism remained that low.

  Reports came in, none of them good. Innumerable southern soldiers were inside the city. They had orders to drive toward us, wipe us out, then continue on around inside and atop the wall, the long way, till they got back where they had started. But the Nyueng Bao were not cooperating. Neither were my guys. So the invaders were blundering around doing any damage they could till somebody killed them.

  Against the Jaicuri, cowering in their homes hoping to be overlooked despite all their experience with the Shadowmasters, the southerners enjoyed some success.

  You could not fault them for not going all out after us. They did not want to get killed either. And Mogaba should not have been surprised when some of the villains he let through turned on him.

  Our guys held their positions. The doppelgan
gers and illusions drove the southerners crazy. They never knew which threat was real. But the big reason our side held up well was that there was no choice. We had nowhere to run.

  Shadowspinner was no help to his people. He was out in those hills intent on undoing that mystery personally. Clearly he regretted having made the choice.

  Once again a band of riders came flying back, silhouetted by pink light. The Shadowmaster did not appear to be with them. “Goblin! One-Eye! Where the hell are you now, you little shits? Has something happened to Shadowspinner?”

  Goblin materialized, his breath heavy with the smell of beer. He and One-Eye had a few gallons stashed somewhere nearby, then. He dashed my hopes. “The Shadowmaster is alive, Murgen. But maybe he’s messed his drawers.”

  He giggled.

  “Oh, shit,” I muttered. The little toad had gotten deep into the home brew. If One-Eye had, too, I might have one truly interesting rest of the night. It was possible those two would forget everything and pick up the feud they have had going for a hundred years. Last time they got drunk and went after each other they tore up a whole city block in Taglios.

  All the while the Speaker’s grandson hung back in the shadows and watched like one of those goddamned crows. There were a lot more of those around now.

  Old Wheezer came puffing up from the street. He had to take a break before he got to the top. He hacked and coughed and spat blood. He was from the same part of the world as One-Eye. They have nothing else in common except a taste for beer. Wheezer had been to the barrel a few times, too.

  He came on up top as I surveyed the city and tried to guess how bad things really were. We were getting very little pressure right then.

  Wheezer hacked and wheezed and spat.

  A new generation of pink lights erupted at the feet of the hills. They cast two shadows against the sky. There was no doubt they were shadows of Widowmaker and Lifetaker, the dread alter egos Lady created for herself and Croaker so they could scare shit out of Shadowlanders.

  “This isn’t possible,” I told my tame wizards. One-Eye was back. He used one hand to support Wheezer, who seemed to be suffering an asthma attack along with the effects of his tuberculosis. In his other hand One-Eye clutched something polelike wrapped in rags. I continued, “That can’t be Croaker and Lady because I saw them go down with my own eyes.”