I doubted that. So did Raven. But when I finished my needlepoint, Raven said, “Get your sword, Croaker.” He had the hunter look. I did not want to go out again, but even less did I want to argue with Raven when he was in that mood. I got my swordbelt.
The air was colder. The wind was stronger. The snow-flakes were smaller and more biting when they hit my cheek. I stalked along behind Raven, wondering what the hell we were doing.
He found the place where Otto was knifed. New snow had not yet obliterated the marks on the old. Raven squatted, stared. I wondered what he saw. There was not enough light to tell anything, so far as I could see.
“Maybe he wasn’t lying,” he said at last. He stared into the darkness of the alley whence the attacker had come.
“How do you know?”
He did not tell me. “Come on.” He stalked into the alley.
I do not like alleys. I especially do not like them in cities like Roses, where they harbor every evil known to man, and probably a few still undiscovered. But Raven was going in... Raven wanted my help... Raven was my brother in the Black Company... But, damned, a hot fire and warm wine would have been nicer.
I do not think I spent more than three or four hours exploring the city. Raven had gone out less than I had. Yet he seemed to know where he was going. He led me up side streets and down alleys, across thoroughfares and over bridges. Roses is pierced by three rivers, and a web of canals connect them. The bridges are one of Roses’ claims to fame.
Bridges did not intrigue me at the moment. I was preoccupied with keeping up and trying to stay warm. My feet were hunks of ice. Snow kept getting into my boots, and Raven was in no mood to stop every time that happened.
On and on. Miles and hours. I never saw so many slums and stews...
“Stop!” Raven flung an arm across my path.
“What?”
“Quiet.” He listened. I listened. I did not hear a thing. I had not seen much during our headlong rush, either.
How could Raven be tracking Otto’s assailant? I did not doubt that he was, I just could not figure it.
Truth told, nothing Raven did surprised me. Nothing had since the day I watched him strangle his wife.
“We’re almost up with him.” He peered into the blowing snow. “Go straight ahead, the pace we’ve been going. You’ll catch him in a couple blocks.”
“What? Where’re you going?” I was carping at a fading shadow. “Damn you.” I took a deep breath, cursed again, drew my sword, and started forward. All I could think was, How am I going to explain if we’ve got the wrong man?
Then I saw him in the light from a tavern door. A tail, lean man shuffling dispiritedly, oblivious to his surroundings. Raker? How would I know? Elmo and Otto were the only ones who had been along on the farm raid...
Came the dawn. Only they could identify Raker for the rest of us. Otto was wounded and Elmo had not been heard from... Where was he? Under a blanket of snow in some alley, cold as this hideous night?
My fright retreated before anger.
I sheathed my sword and drew a dagger. I kept it hidden inside my cloak. The figure ahead did not glance back as I overtook it, drew even.
“Rough night, eh, old-timer?”
He grunted noncommittally. Then he looked at me, eyes narrowing, when I fell into step beside him. He eased away, watched me closely. There was no fear in his eyes. He was sure of himself. Not the sort of old man you found wandering the streets of the slums. They are scared of their own shadows.
“What do you want?” It was a calm, straightforward question.
He did not have to be frightened. I was scared enough for both of us. “You knifed a friend of mine, Raker.”
He halted. A glint of something strange showed in his eye. “The Black Company?”
I nodded.
He stared, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “The physician. You’re the physician. The one they call Croaker.”
“Glad to meet you.” I am sure my voice sounded stronger than I felt.
I thought, what the hell do I do now?
Raker flung his cloak open. A short stabbing sword thrust my way. I slid aside, opened my own cloak, dodged again and tried to draw my sword.
Raker froze. He caught my eye. His eyes seemed to grow larger, larger... I was falling into twin grey pools... A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He stepped toward me, blade rising...
And grunted suddenly. A look of total amazement came over his face. I shook his spell, stepped back, came to guard.
Raker turned slowly, faced the darkness. Raven’s knife protruded from his back. Raker reached back and withdrew it. A mewl of pain passed his lips. He glared at the knife, then, ever so slowly, began to sing.
“Move, Croaker!”
A spell! Fool! I had forgotten what Raker was. I charged.
Raven arrived at the same instant.
I looked at the body. “Now what?”
Raven knelt, produced another knife. It had a serrated edge. “Somebody claims Soulcatcher’s bounty.”
“He’d have a fit.”
“You going to tell him?”
“No. But what will we do with it?” There had been times when the Black Company was prosperous, but never when it was rich. Accumulation of wealth is not our purpose.
“I can use some of it. Old debts. The rest... Divide it up. Send it back to Beryl. Whatever. It’s there. Why let the Taken keep it?”
I shrugged. “Up to you. I just hope Soulcatcher don’t think we crossed him.”
“Only you and me know. I won’t tell him.” He brushed the snow off the old man’s face. Raker was cooling fast.
Raven used his knife.
I am a physician. I have removed limbs. I am a soldier. I have seen some bloody battlefields. Nevertheless, I was queasy. Decapitating a dead man did not seem right.
Raven secured our grisly trophy inside his cloak. It did not bother him. Once, on the way to our part of town, I asked, “Why did we go after him, anyway?”
He did not answer immediately. Then, “The Captain’s last letter said to get it over with if I had the chance.”
As we neared the square, Raven said, “Go upstairs. See if the spook is there. If he’s not, send the soberest man after our wagon. You come back here.”
“Right.” I sighed, hurried to our quarters. Anything for a little warmth.
The snow was a foot deep now. I was afraid my feet were permanently damaged.
“Where the hell have you been?” Elmo demanded when I stumbled through the doorway. “Where’s Raven?”
I looked around. No Soulcatcher. Goblin and One-Eye were back, dead to the world. Otto and Hagop were snoring like giants. “How’s Otto?”
“Doing all right. What’ve you been up to?”
I settled myself beside our fire, prized my boots off. My feet were blue and numb but not frozen. Soon they tingled painfully. My legs ached from all that walking through the snow, too. I told Elmo the whole story.
“You killed him?”
“Raven said the Captain wants done with the project.”
“Yeah. I didn’t figure Raven would go cut his throat.”
“Where’s Soulcatcher?”
“Hasn’t been back.” He grinned. “I’ll get the wagon Don’t tell anybody else. Too many big mouths.” He flung
