Chronicles of the Black Company

  “What have you got, Croaker?” the Captain asked.

  I figured he had milked Elmo dry, so I got straight to the kicker. “These orders.” I tapped one of my stacks. “All these reports.” I tapped another. “They’re all signed by Whisper. We’re kicking up the veggies in Whisper’s private garden.” My voice was up in the high squeak range.

  For a while nobody said anything. Goblin made a few squeaky noises when Candy and the other sergeants rushed in. Finally, the Captain asked Raven, “That right?”

  Raven nodded. “Judging by the documents, she’s been in and out since early spring.”

  The Captain folded his hands, began pacing. He looked like a tired old monk on his way to evening prayer.

  Whisper is the best known of the Rebel generals. Her stubborn genius has held the eastern front together despite the best efforts of the Ten. She is also the most dangerous of the Circle of Eighteen. She is known for the thoroughness with which she plans campaigns. In a war which, too often, resembles armed chaos on both sides, her forces stand out for their tight organization, discipline, and clarity of purpose.

  The Captain mused, “She’s supposed to be commanding the Rebel army at Rust. Right?” The struggle for Rust was three years old. Rumor had hundreds of square miles laid waste. During the winter past both sides had been reduced to eating their own dead to survive.

  I nodded. The question was rhetorical. He was thinking out loud.

  “And Rust has been a killing ground for years. Whisper won’t break. The Lady won’t back off. But if Whisper is coming here, then the Circle has decided to let Rust fall.”

  I added, “It means they’re shifting from an eastern to a northern strategy.” The north remains the Lady’s weak flank. The west is prostrate. The Lady’s allies rule the sea to the south. The north has been ignored since the Empire’s frontiers reached the great forests above Forsberg, It is in the north that the Rebel has managed his most spectacular successes.

  The Lieutenant observed, “They have the momentum, with Forsberg taken, the Salient overrun, Roses gone, and Rye besieged. There are Rebel mainforcers headed for Wist and Jane. They’ll be stopped, but the Circle must know that. So they’re dancing on the other foot and coming at Lords. If Lords goes, they’re almost to the edge of the Windy Country. Cross the Windy Country, climb the Stair of Tear, and they’re looking down at Charm from a hundred miles away.”

  I continued scanning and sorting. “Elmo, you might look around and see if you can come up with anything else. She might have something tucked away.”

  “Use One-Eye, Goblin, and Silent,” Raven suggested. “Better chance of finding something.”

  The Captain okayed the proposal. He told the Lieutenant, “Get that business out there wrapped up. Carp, you and Candy get the men ready to move out. Match, double your perimeter guard.”

  “Sir?” Candy asked.

  “You don’t want to be here when Whisper gets back, do you? Goblin, come back here. Get ahold of Soulcatcher. This goes to the top. Now.”

  Goblin made an awful face, then went into a corner and began murmuring to himself. It was a quiet little sorcery—to start.

  The Captain rolled on. “Croaker, you and Raven pack these documents when you’re done. We’ll want them along.”

  “I maybe better save the best out for Catcher,” I said. “Some will need immediate attention if we’re to get any use out of them. I mean, something will have to be done before Whisper can put the word out.”

  He cut me off. “Right. I’ll send you a wagon. Don’t dilly-dally.” He looked grey around the edges as he stalked outside.

  A new strain of terror entered the screaming and shouting outside. I untangled my aching legs and went to the door. They were herding the Rebels together on their drill field. The prisoners sensed the Company’s sudden eagerness to cut and run. They thought they were about to die just minutes before salvation arrived.

  Shaking my head, I returned to my reading. Raven gave me a look that might have meant he shared my pain. On the other hand, it might have contained contempt for my weakness. With Raven it is hard to tell.

  One-Eye shoved through the door, stomped over, dumped an armload of bundles wrapped in oilskin. Moist clods clung to them, “You were right. We dug these up behind her sleeping quarters.”

  Goblin let out a long, shrill screech as chilling as an owl’s when you are alone in the woods at midnight. One-Eye charged the sound.

  Such moments make me doubt the sincerity of their animosity.

  Goblin moaned, “He’s in the Tower. He’s with the Lady. I see Her through his eyes … his eyes … his eyes.… The darkness! Oh, God, the darkness! No! Oh, God, no! No!” His words twisted into a shriek of pure terror. That faded to, “The Eye. I see the Eye. It’s looking right through me.”

  Raven and I exchanged frowns and shrugs. We did not know what he was talking about.

  Goblin sounded like he was regressing toward childhood. “Make it stop looking at me. Make it stop, I’ve been good. Make it go away.”

  One-Eye was on his knees beside Goblin. “It’s all right. It’s all right. It’s not real. It’s going to be all right,”

  I exchanged glances with Raven. He turned, began gesturing at Darling. “I’m sending her to fetch the Captain.”

  Darling left reluctantly. Raven took another sheet from the pile and resumed reading. Cool as a stone, that Raven.

  Goblin screamed for a while, then got quiet as death. I jerked around. One-Eye lifted a hand to tell me I was not needed. Goblin had finished delivering his message.

  Goblin relaxed slowly. The terror left his face. His color improved. I knelt, touched his carotid. His heart was hammering, but its beat was slowing. “Surprised it didn’t kill him this time,” I said. “It ever been this bad before?”

  “No.” One-Eye dropped Goblin’s hand. “We’d better not put it on him next time”

  “Is it progressive?” My trade borders theirs along the shadowed edges, but only in small ways. I did not know,

  “No. His confidence will need support for a while. Sounded like he caught Soulcatcher right at the heart of the Tower. I think that would leave anybody rocky.”

  “While in the presence of the Lady,” I breathed. I could not contain my excitement. Goblin had seen the inside of the Tower! He might have seen the Lady! Only the Ten Who Were Taken ever came out of the Tower. Popular imagination invests its interior with a thousand gruesome possibilities. And I had me a live witness!

  “You just let him be, Croaker. He’ll tell you when he’s ready,” There was a hard edge to One-Eye’s voice.

  They laugh at my little fantasies, tell me I have fallen in love with a spook. Maybe they are right. Sometimes my interest scares me. It gets close to becoming an obsession.

  For a time I forgot my duty to Goblin. For a moment he stopped being a man, a brother, an old friend. He became a source of information. Then, shamed, I retreated to my papers.

  The Captain arrived, puzzled, dragged by a determined Darling. “Ah. I see. He made contact.” He studied Goblin. “Said anything yet? No? Wake him up, One-Eye.”

  One-Eye started to protest, thought better of it, shook Goblin gently. Goblin took his time awakening. His sleep was almost as deep as a trance.

  “Was it rough?” the Captain asked me.

  I explained. He grunted, said, “That wagon is on its way. One of you start packing.”

  I started straightening my piles.

  “One of you means Raven, Croaker. You stand by here. Goblin doesn’t look too good.”

  He did not. He had gone pale again. His breath was coming shallower and quicker, getting ragged. “Give him a slap, One-Eye,” I said. “He might think he’s still out there.”

  The slap did the job. Goblin opened eyes filled with panic. He recognized One-Eye, shuddered, took a deep breath, and squeaked, “I have to come back to this? After that?” But his voice gave the lie to his protest. The relief there was thick enough to cut.

  ?
??He’s all right,” I said. “He can bitch.”

  The Captain squatted. He did not say anything. Goblin would talk when he was ready.

  He took several minutes to get himself together, then said, “Soulcatcher says to get the hell out of here. Fast. He’ll meet us on the way to Lords.”

  “That’s it?”

  That is all there ever is, but the Captain keeps hoping for more. The game does not seem worth the candle when you see what Goblin goes through.

  I looked at him hard. It was one hell of a temptation. He looked back. “Later, Croaker. Give me time to get it straightened out in my head.”

  I nodded, said, “A little herb tea will perk you up.”

  “Oh, no. You’re not giving me any of that rat piss of One-Eye’s.”

  “Not his. My own.” I measured enough for a strong quart, gave it to One-Eye, closed my kit, returned to the papers as the wagon creaked up outside.

  As I carried my first load out, I noticed that the men were at the coup de grace stage on the drill field. The Captain was not fooling around. He wanted to put a lot of distance between himself and the camp before Whisper returned.

  Can’t say I blame him. Her reputation is thoroughly vile.

  I did not get to the oilskin packets till we were travelling again, I sat up beside the driver and started the first, vainly trying to ignore the savage jouncing of the springless vehicle.

  I went through the packets twice, growing ever more distressed.

  Areal dilemma. Should I tell the Captain what I had learned? Should I tell One-Eye or Raven? Each would be interested. Should I save everything for Soulcatcher? No doubt he would prefer that. My question was, did this information fall inside or outside my obligation to the Company? I needed an adviser.

  I jumped down from the wagon, let the column drift past till Silent caught up. He had middle guard. One-Eye was on the point and Goblin back in the rear. Each was worth a platoon of outriders.

  Silent looked down from the back of the big black he rides when he is in a villainous mood. He scowled. Of our wizards he is the nearest to what you could call evil, though, like so many of us, he is more image than substance.

  “I’ve got a problem,” I told him. “A big one. You’re the best sounding board.” I looked around. “I don’t want anyone else to hear this.”

  Silent nodded. He made complicated, fluid gestures too quick to follow. Suddenly, I could not hear anything from more than five feet away. You would be amazed how many sounds you do not notice till they are gone. I told Silent what I had found.

  Silent is hard to shock. He has seen and heard it all. But he looked properly astonished this time.

  For a moment I thought he was going to say something.

  “Should I tell Soulcatcher?”

  Vigorous affirmative nod. All right. I hadn’t doubted that. The news was too big for the Company. It would eat us up if we kept it to ourselves.

  “How about the Captain? One-Eye? Some of the others?”

  He was less quick to respond, and less decisive. His advice was negative. With a few questions and the intuition one develops on long exposure, I understood Silent to feel that Soulcatcher would want to spread the word on a need-to-know basis.

  “Right, then,” I said, and, “Thanks,” and started trotting up the column. When I was out of sight of Silent, I asked one of the men, “You seen Raven?”

  “Up with the Captain.”

  That figured. I resumed trotting.

  After a moment of reflection I had decided to buy a little insurance. Raven was the finest policy I could imagine.

  “You read any of the old languages?” I asked him. It was hard talking to him. He and the Captain were mounted and Darling was right behind them. Her mule kept trying to tromp my heels.

  “Some. All part of a classical education. Why?”

  I scrambled a few steps ahead. “We’re going to be having mule stew if you don’t watch it, animal.” I swear, that beast sneered. I told Raven, “Some of those papers aren’t modern. The ones One-Eye dug up.”

  “Not important then, are they?”

  I shrugged and ambled along beside him, picking my words carefully. “You never know. The Lady and the Ten, they go way back.” I let out a yelp, spun, ran backward gripping my shoulder where the mule had nipped me. The animal looked innocent, but Darling was grinning impishly.

  It was almost worth the pain, just to see her smile. She did so so seldom.

  I cut across the column and drifted back till I was walking beside Elmo. He asked, “Is something wrong, Croaker?”

  “Uhm? No. Not really.”

  “You look scared.”

  I was scared. I had tipped the lid off a little box, just to see what was inside, and had found it filled with nastiness. The things I had read could not be unlearned.

  When next I saw Raven his face was as grey as mine. Maybe more so. We walked together while he sketched what he had learned from the documents I had not been able to read.

  “Some of them belonged to the wizard Bomanz,” he told me. “Others date from the Domination. Some are TelleKurre. Only the Ten use that language anymore.”

  “Bomanz?” I asked.

  “Right. The one who wakened the Lady. Whisper got ahold of his secret papers somehow.”

  “Oh.”

  “Indeed. Yes. Oh.”

  We parted, each to be alone with his fears.

  Soulcatcher came sneakily. He wore clothing not unlike ours outside his customary leathers. He slipped into the column unremarked. How long he was there I do not know. I became aware of him as we were leaving the forest, after three eighteen-hour days of heavy marching. I was putting one foot ahead of the other, aching, and mumbling about getting too old when a soft feminine voice inquired, “How are you today, physician?” It lilted with amusement.

  Had I been less exhausted I might have jumped ten feet, screaming. As it was, I just took my next step, cranked my head around, and muttered, “Finally showed up, eh?” Profound apathy was the order of the moment.

  A wave of relief would arrive later, but just then my brain was running as sluggishly as my body. After so long on the run it was hard to get the adrenaline pumping. The world held no sudden excitements or terrors.

  Soulcatcher marched beside me, matching stride for stride, occasionally glancing my way. I could not see his face, but I sensed his amusement.

  The relief came, and was followed by a wave of awe at my own temerity. I had talked back like Catcher was one of the guys. It was thunderbolt time.

  “So why don’t we look at those documents?” he asked. He seemed positively cheerful. I showed him to the wagon. We scrambled aboard. The driver gave us one wide-eyed look, then stared determinedly forward, shivering and trying to become deaf.

  I went straight to the packets that had been buried, started to slip out. “Stay,” he said. “They don’t need to know yet.” He sensed my fear, giggled like a young girl. “You’re safe, Croaker. In fact, the Lady sends her personal thanks.” He laughed again. “She wanted to know all about you, Croaker. All about you. You’ve caught her imagination too.”

  Another hammer blow of fear. Nobody wants to catch the Lady’s eye.

  Soulcatcher enjoyed my discomfiture. “She might grant you an interview, Croaker. Oh, my. You’re so pale. Well, it isn’t mandatory. To work, then.”

  Never have I seen anyone read so fast. He went through the old documents and the new, zip.

  Catcher said, “You weren’t able to read all of this.” He used his businesslike female voice.

  “No.”

  “Neither can I. Some only the Lady will be able to decipher.”

  Odd, I thought. I expected more enthusiasm. The seizure of the documents represented a coup for him because he had had the foresight to enlist the Black Company.

  “How much did you get?”

  I talked about the Rebel plan for a thrust through Lords, and about what Whisper’s presence implied.

  He chuckled. “The
old documents, Croaker. Tell me about the old documents.”

  I was sweating. The softer, the more gentle he became, the more I felt I had to fear. “The old wizard. The one who wakened you all. Some of them were his papers.” Damn. I knew I had stuck my foot in my mouth before I finished. Raven was the only man in the Company who could have identified Bomanz’s papers as his.

  Soulcatcher chuckled, gave me a comradely shoulder slap. “I thought so, Croaker. I wasn’t sure, but I thought so. I didn’t think you could resist telling Raven.”

  I did not respond. I wanted to lie, but he knew.

  “You couldn’t have known any other way. You told him about the references to the Limper’s true name, so he just had to read everything he could. Right?”

  Still I kept my peace. It was true, though my motives had not been wholly brotherly. Raven has his scores to settle, but Limper wants all of us.

  The most jealously guarded secret of any wizard, of course, is his true name. An enemy armed with that can stab through any magic or illusion straight to the heart of the soul.

  “You only guessed at the magnitude of what you found, Croaker. Even I can only guess. But what will come of it is predictable. The biggest disaster ever for Rebel arms, and a lot of rattling and shaking among the Ten.” He slapped my shoulder again. “You’ve made me the second most powerful person in the Empire. The Lady knows all our true names. Now I know three of the others, and I’ve gotten my own back.”

  No wonder he was effusive. He had ducked an arrow he had not known was coming, and had lucked onto a stranglehold on the Limper at the same time. He had stumbled over a rainbow pot of power.

  “But Whisper.…”

  “Whisper will have to go.” The voice he used was deep and chill. It was the voice of an assassin, a voice accustomed to pronouncing death sentences. “Whisper has to die fast. Otherwise nothing is gained.”

  “Suppose she told someone else?”

  “She didn’t. Oh, no. I know Whisper. I fought her at Rust before the Lady sent me to Beryl. I fought her at Were. I chased her through the talking menhirs upon the Plain of Fear. I know Whisper. She’s a genius, but she’s a loner. Had she lived during the first era, the Dominator would have made her one of his own. She serves the White Rose, but her heart is as black as the night of Hell.”