Guards brought Limper parts to the fire, too. They did not find his head, though. The sodden walls of the trench whence the dragon had risen had collapsed upon it.
Goblin and One-Eye torched the woodpile.
The fire leapt up as if eager to fulfill its mission.
The Limper’s bolt had struck the Lady four inches from the heart, midway between her left breast and collarbone. I confess to a certain pride in having drawn it under such terrible circumstances without killing her. I should have incapacitated her left arm, though.
She now lifted that arm, reached out to Darling. Silent and I were puzzled. But only for a moment.
The Lady pulled Darling to her. She had no strength, so it must be that, in a way, Darling allowed herself to be pulled. Then she whispered, “The rite is complete. I name your true name, Tonie Fisk.”
Darling screamed soundlessly.
The null began to fray.
Silent’s face blackened. For what seemed an eternity he stood there in obvious torment, torn between a vow, a love, a hatred, perhaps the concept of an obligation to a higher duty. Tears began coursing down his cheeks. I got an old wish, and was ready to cry myself when I did.
He spoke. “The ritual is closed.” He had trouble shaping his words. “I name your true name, Dorotea Senjak, I name your true name, Dorotea Senjak.”
I thought he would collapse in a faint then. But he did not.
The women did.
Raven was getting closer. So I had a pain atop all the other pains.
Silent and I stared at one another. I suspect my face was as tormented as his. Then he nodded through his tears. There was peace between us. We knelt, untangled the women. He looked worried while I felt Darling’s neck. “She’ll be all right,” I told him. The Lady, too, but he did not care about that.
I wonder still how much each of the women expected in that moment. How much each yielded to destiny. It marked their end as powers of the world. Darling had no null. The Lady had no magic. They had canceled one another out.
I heard screaming. Carpets were raining. All those Taken had been Taken by the Lady herself, and after what had happened on the Plain, she had made certain her fate would be their fate. So now they were undone, and soon dead.
Not much magic left on that field. Tracker, too, was a goner, mauled to death by the Dominator. I believe he died happy.
But there was no end yet. No. There was Raven.
Fifty feet away, he let go of Case and bore down like nemesis itself. His gaze was fixed on the Lady, though you could tell by his very step that he was on stage, that he was going to do a deed to win back Darling.
Well, Croaker? Can you let it happen?
The Lady’s hand shivered in mine. Her pulse was feeble, but it was there. Maybe. …
Maybe he would bluff.
I picked up my bow and the arrow recovered from Limper. “Stop, Raven.”
He did not. I do not think he heard me. Oh, damn. If he didn’t … It was going to get out of hand.
“Raven!” I bent the bow.
He stopped. He stared at me as if trying to recall who I was.
That whole battleground fell into silence. Every eye fixed upon us. Silent stopped moving Darling away, took up a sword, made certain he was between her and potential danger. It was almost amusing, the two of us there, like twins, standing guard over women whose hearts we could never have.
One-Eye and Goblin began drifting our way. I had no idea where they stood. Wherever, I did not want them involved. This had to be made into Raven against Croaker.
Damn. Damn. Damn. Why couldn’t he just go away?
“It’s over, Raven. There ain’t going to be no more killing.” I think my voice began to rise in pitch. “You hear? It’s lost and won.”
He looked at Silent and Darling, not at me. And took a step.
“You want to be the next guy dead?” Damn it, nobody could ever bluff him. Could I do it? I might have to.
One-Eye stopped a careful ten feet to one side. “What are you doing, Croaker?”
I was shaking. Everything but my hands and arms, though my shoulders had begun to ache with the strain of keeping my arrow drawn. “What about Elmo?” I asked, my throat tight with emotion. “What about the Lieutenant?”
“No good,” he replied, telling me what I already knew in my heart. “Gone. Why don’t you put the bow down?”
“When he drops the sword.” Elmo had been my best friend for more years than I cared to count. Tears began to blur my vision. “They’re gone. That leaves me in charge, right? Senior officer surviving? Right? My first order is, peace breaks out. Right now. She made this possible. She gave herself up for this. Nobody touches her now. Not while I’m alive.”
“Then we’ll change that,” Raven said. He started moving.
“Damned stubborn fool!” One-Eye shrieked. He flung himself toward Raven. I heard Goblin pattering up behind me. Too late. Both too late. Raven had a lot more fire in him than anyone suspected. And he was more than a little crazy.
I yelled, “No!” and let fly.
The arrow took Raven in the hip. In the very side he had been pretending was crippled. He wore a look of amazement as he stumbled. Lying there on the ground, his sword eight feet away, he looked up at me, still unable to believe that, in the end, I was not bluffing.
I had trouble believing it myself.
Case yelled and tried to jump me. Hardly looking at him, I whacked him upside the head with my bow. He went away and fussed over Raven.
Silence, and stillness, again. Everyone looking at me. I slung my bow. “Fix him up, One-Eye,” I limped over to the Lady, knelt, lifted her. She seemed awfully light and fragile for one who had been so terrible. I followed Silent toward what was left of the town. The barracks were still burning. We made an odd parade, the two of us lugging women. “Company meeting tonight,” I threw out at the Company survivors. “You all be there.”
I would not have believed myself capable before I did it. I carried her all the way to Blue Willy. And my ankle never hurt till I put her down.
Last Vote
I limped into the common room at what was left of Blue Willy, the Lady supported under one arm, bow used as a crutch. The ankle was killing me. I had thought it almost healed.
I deposited the Lady in a chair. She was weak and pale and only about half conscious despite the best One-Eye and I could do. I was determined not to let her out of my sight. Our situation was still fraught with peril. Her people no longer had any reason to be nice. And she was at risk herself—probably more from herself than from Raven or my comrades. She had fallen into a state of complete despair.
“Is this all?” I asked. Silent, Goblin, and One-Eye were there. And Otto the immortal, wounded as always after a Company action, with his eternal sidekick, Hagop. A youngster named Murgen, our standard-bearer. Three others from the Company. And Darling, of course, seated beside Silent. She ignored the Lady completely.
Raven and Case were back by the bar, present without having been invited. Raven wore a dark look but seemed to have himself under control. His gaze was fixed on Darling.
She looked grim. She had rebounded better than the Lady. But she had won. She ignored Raven more assiduously than she did the Lady.
There had been a showdown between them, and I had overheard his half. Darling had made very clear her displeasure with his inability to handle emotional commitment. She had not cut him off. She had not banished him from her heart. But he was not redeemed in her eyes.
He then had said some very unkind things about Silent, whom, it was obvious, she held in affection but nothing deeper.
And that had gotten her really angry. I had peeped then. And she had gone on in great length and fury about not being a prize in some men’s game, like a princess in some dopey fairy tale where a gang of suitors ride around doing stupid and dangerous things vying for her hand.
Like the Lady, she had been in charge too long to accept a standard female role now. She was still
the White Rose inside.
So Raven was not so happy. He had not been shut out, but he had been told he had a long way to go if he wanted to lay any claims.
The first task she had given him was righting himself with his children.
I halfway felt sorry for the guy. He knew only one role. Hard guy. And it had been stripped away.
One-Eye interrupted my thoughts. “This is it, Croaker. This is all. Going to be a big funeral.”
It would. “Shall I preside as senior officer surviving? Or do you want to exercise your prerogative as oldest brother?”
“You do it.” He was in no mood to do anything but brood.
Neither was I. But there were ten of us still alive, surrounded by potential enemies. We had decisions to make.
“All right. This is an official convocation of the Black Company, last of the Free Companies of Khatovar. We’ve lost our captain. First business is to elect a new commander. Then we have to decide how we’re going to get out of here. Any nominations?”
“You” Otto said.
“I’m a physician.”
“You’re the only real officer left.”
Raven started to rise.
I told him, “You sit down and keep quiet. You don’t even belong here. You walked out on us fifteen years ago, remember? Come on, you guys. Who else?”
Nobody spoke. Nobody volunteered. Nobody met my eye, either. They all knew I did not want it.
Goblin squeaked, “Is anybody against Croaker?”
Nobody blackballed me. It’s wonderful to be loved. Grand to be the least of evils.
I wanted to turn it down. The option was not there. “All right. Next order of business. Getting the hell out of here. We’re surrounded, guys. And the Guard will get its balance pretty soon. We’ve got to get gone before they start looking around for somebody to whip on. But once we get clear, then what?”
Nobody offered an opinion. These men were as much in shock as the Guards.
“All right. I know what I want to do. Since time immemorial one of the jobs of the Annalist has been to return the Annals to Khatovar should the Company disband or be demolished. We’ve been demolished. I propose a vote to disband. Some of us have assumed obligations that are going to put us at odds as soon as we don’t have anybody more dangerous to fuss at.” I looked at Silent. He met my gaze. He’d just moved his seat so he was more into the gap between Darling and Raven, a gesture understood by everyone but Raven himself.
I had nominated myself guardian for the Lady, for the time being. There was no way we could keep those two women in one another’s company for long. I hoped we could hold the group together as far as Oar. I would be satisfied with getting to the edge of the forest. We needed every hand. Our tactical situation could not have been worse.
“Shall we disband?” I asked.
That caused a stir. Everyone but Silent argued the negative.
I interjected, “This is a formal proposition. I want those with special interests to go their own ways without the stigma of desertion. That don’t mean we have to split. What I’m saying is, we formally shed the name the Black Company. I’ll head south with the Annals, looking for Khatovar. Anyone who wants can come. Under the usual rules.”
Nobody wanted to give up the name. That would be like renouncing a patronym thirty generations old.
“So we don’t give it up. Who would rather not go look for Khatovar?”
Three hands rose. All belonged to troopers who had enlisted north of the Sea of Torments. Silent abstained, though he wanted to go his own way, in pursuit of his own impossible dream.
Then another hand shot up. Belatedly, Goblin had noted that One-Eye was not opposed. They started one of their arguments. I cut it short.
“I won’t insist on the majority dragging everybody along. As commander, I can discharge anyone who wants to follow another path. Silent?”
He had been a brother of the Black Company longer than I. We were his friends, his family. His heart was torn.
Finally, he nodded. He would go his own road, even without promises from Darling. The three who had opposed heading for Khatovar nodded too. I entered their discharges in the Annals. “You’re out,” I told them. “I’ll deal out your shares of money and equipment when we clear the south edge of the forest. Till then we stick together.” I did not pursue it further, or in a moment I would have been hanging all over Silent, bawling my eyes out. We had been through a lot, he and I.
I wheeled on Goblin, pen poised. “Well? Do I strike your name?”
“Go on,” One-Eye said. “Hurry. Do it. Get rid of him. We don’t need his kind. He’s never been anything but trouble.”
Goblin scowled at him. “Just for that I’m not leaving. I’m going to stay and outlive you and make your remaining days examples of misery. And I hope you live another hundred years.”
I had not thought they would split. “Fine,” I said, stifling a grin, “Hagop, take a couple men and round up some animals. The rest of you collect whatever might be useful. Like money, if you see any lying around.”
They looked at me with eyes still dull with the impact of what had happened.
“We’re getting out, guys. As soon as we can ride. Before any more trouble finds us. Hagop. Don’t stint on pack animals. I want to carry off everything that isn’t nailed down,”
There was talk, argument, whatnot, but I closed the official debate at that point.
Cunning devil that I am, I got the Guards to do our burying. I stood over the Company graves with Silent and shed more than a few tears. “I never thought Elmo … He was my best friend.” It had hit me. At last. Hard. Now I had done all the duties, there was nothing to hold it at bay. “He was my sponsor when I came in.”
Silent lifted a hand, gently squeezed my arm. It was as much of a gesture as I could expect.
The Guards were paying their last respects to their own. Their daze was fading. Soon they would begin thinking about getting on with business. About asking the Lady what they should do. In a sense, they had been rendered unemployed.
They did not know their mistress had been disarmed. I prayed they did not learn, for I meant to use her as our ticket out.
I dreaded what might happen should her loss become general knowledge. On the broad canvas, civil wars to torment the world. On the fine, attempts at revenge upon her person.
Someday someone would begin to suspect. I just wanted the secret kept till we had a good run at getting out of the empire.
Silent took my arm again. He wanted to go. “One second,” I said. I drew my sword, saluted our graves, repeated the ancient formula of parting. Then I followed him to where the others waited.
Silent’s party would ride with us a while, as I’d wished. Our ways would part when we felt safe from the Guards. I did not look forward to that moment, inevitable though it was. How keep two such as Darling and the Lady in company when there was no survival imperative?
I swung into the saddle cursing my wretched aching ankle. The Lady gave me a dirty look. “Well,” I said. “You’re showing some spirit.”
“Are you kidnapping me?”
“You want to be alone with all your folks? With maybe nothing better than a knife to keep order?” Then I forced a grin. “We’ve got a date. Remember? Dinner at the Gardens in Opal?”
For just a moment there was a spark of mischief behind her despair. And a look from a moment by a fire when we had come close. Then the shadow returned.
I leaned closer, trembling with the thought. I whispered, “And I need your help to get the Annals out of the Tower.” I had not told anyone that I did not have them in my possession yet.
The shadow went. “Dinner? That’s a promise?”
The witch could promise a lot, just with a look and her tone. I croaked, “In the Gardens. Yes.”
I gave the time-honored signal. Hagop started off on point. Goblin and One-Eye followed, bickering as usual. Then Murgen, with the standard, then the Lady and I. Then most of the others, with the pack ani
mals. Silent and Darling brought up the rear, well separated from the Lady and me.
As I urged my mount forward, I glanced back. Raven stood leaning on his cane, looking more forlorn and abandoned than he should. Case was still trying to explain it to him. The kid had no trouble understanding. I figured Raven would, once he got over the shock of not having everyone jump to do things his way, the shock of discovering that old Croaker could fill his bluff if he had to. “I’m sorry,” I murmured his way, not quite sure why. Then I faced the forest and did not look back again.
I had a feeling he would be on the road himself soon enough. If Darling really meant as much to him as he wanted us to think.
That night, for the first time in who knows how long, the northern skies were completely clear. The Great Comet illuminated our way. Now the north knew what the rest of the empire had known for weeks.
It was on the wane already. The hour of decision had passed. The empire awaited in fear the news that it portended.
Away north. Three days later. In the dark of a moonless night. A beast with three legs limped from the Great Forest. It settled on its haunches on the remains of the Barrowland, scratched the earth with its one forepaw. The son of the tree flung a tiny change storm.
The monster fled.
But it would return another night, and another, and another after that. …
Glen Cook, Chronicles of the Black Company
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