Thai Dei peeked outside, looked down the long slope, muttered in salty Nyueng Bao, went back in and lay down. You would have thought he had no respect for his elders.
He did not answer my question.
I checked the amulet I had not returned to Croaker. I considered the height of my shadow-repellent candle. We should be all right.
I hoped.
Somebody a lot smarter than me once said, “Put no trust in wizards.”
I shut my eyes and waited.
“Murgen, you know a couple guys name of Wobble and Leadbeater?”
I opened my eyes. “Rudy. You ugly son of a bitch. Where’d you come from? I ain’t seen you in half a year. How the fuck are you?”
“What is that? It’s been so long I forget how. But I still got all my limbs and I’m still breathing.”
“Makes you a winner in the soldiering game. Yeah. I remember Wobble. He was Jaicuri. Everybody he ever knew died during the siege of Dejagore. He just stuck with us after we came out of the city. He was a stonemason by trade. He was with us when we caught the Deceivers in the Grove of Doom.”
“That’s the guy. He made a good showing at Charandaprash, too.”
“And the other one? Leadbeater? I didn’t know him.”
“He was some kind of Shadowlander. A prisoner of war who started out doing scutwork and gradually turned into one of us. Only took the oath maybe a month ago.”
I knew but I had to ask. “What about them?”
“They didn’t make it last night. I had to tell you. On account of you always want to put all that stuff in the Annals.”
“Thank you. Though I don’t know if I like this or not.”
“What?”
“Only time half you guys talk to me anymore is if somebody gets his ass skragged. Then you come around because you want me to remember them.”
“Get away from headquarters, Murgen. Get out here in the field. Stop being one of them and turn back into one of us.”
Damn! Apparently I had crossed over from labor to management without noticing. “You maybe got a point. We’re in for some changes now that the Shadowmasters are wrapped up. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Red Rudy grunted. He was not convinced. He headed back to his command, though, satisfied that he had done his duty.
I scrunched down into myself more tightly, shivering. A cold wind was blowing off the plateau. It was probably my imagination but I thought there was a whiff of Kina in it. It recalled the persistent wind stalking the place of bones. It made the standard sway. I thought about piling more rocks at its foot but could not find the ambition.
I thought about a warm fire, too, but on this side of Overlook, after last night, wood was scarce. Stocks were being used for cooking only. Not that there was much to cook anymore but bitterroot.
You will learn to live without the light. That was in one of the older Annals somewhere, too.
A pair of boots positioned themselves in front of me. Uncle Doj. I knew because Mother Gota was just down the slope, puffing and complaining. She would never catch up unless he waited, wobble-walking the way she did.
“Uncle,” I said without looking up. “To what do I owe this dubious pleasure, after all these months?”
“You should plant your standard closer, Soldier of Darkness. You should be able to lay your hand on it at any time. Otherwise you are likely to lose it.”
“I don’t think so. But one of the Prahbrindrah Drah’s loyalists, a Deceiver, hell, maybe even some minor, he- thinks-his-talent-is-a-secret kind of wizard, anybody, can take a crack. And end up in that ditch over there before they know what bit them.” I was bullshitting but he would not recognize it. I had not done that in the past. “It knows who the good guys are.”
Mother Gota hobbled up. She carried a load as big as she was, everything useful that could be salvaged from our former home and the ruins of Kiaulune. That included an accumulation of firewood.
I decided not to be totally abrasive. While the wood lasted. There are cooks in this world worse than Mother Gota. Among them are her favorite son and son-in-law.
Uncle Doj, being both male and what passes for exalted caste amongst Nyueng Bao, carried Ash Wand and a quite unprepossessing pack.
Mother Gota shed her load, dropped to hands and knees and started to crawl into the bunker. As she met my gaze I could not help grinning. She began muttering curses that, no doubt, were directed at the sort of evil fate that would unleash an earthquake at such an inopportune moment.
The earth moved. One-Eye would hear about that for however many more centuries he hung around.
I said, “Let Thai Dei rest. It’s going to be another long night.” As I edged over Uncle Doj glimpsed the little bamboo tube I had tucked in my belt behind me.
The cold wind was getting stronger. The cloth of the standard popped and cracked.
Uncle Doj peered up the darkening slope, eyed the bunker, glared at me like he was developing serious reservations about having left his swamp. I said, “Sometimes you have to live like this when you do what we do.” Mother Gota crept back outside, still muttering, verbalizing what Uncle Doj was thinking. I reminded them, “You invited yourselves along.”
Uncle Doj opened his mouth but overcame the urge to bicker. He settled on the other side of the bunker entrance, Ash Wand across his lap. Gota proceeded to scout the neighborhood, collecting stones. Our neighbors did not object despite rocks beginning to look like the only measure of wealth at this end of the world.
I shut my eyes. Softly, just to be a pain in the ass, I whistled an air Sarie liked to hum when she was happy.
As it always does, darkness came.
79
They let me sleep. And sleep I did despite the cold and the wind, the cooking smells and my own snoring. As nightfall waxed complete I slipped my moorings to my flesh, slowly. For a while I was like tatters stirring in a ghostly breeze. I made no real effort to go, nor any more to stay. Uncle’s Doj’s return, with all its unhappy reminders, had inspired a great lethargy.
My heart’s inclination was the breeze that carried me north. I loafed over mountains and across wildernesses, past all the conquered cities. I found Sleepy on the road from Taglios to Dejagore. He understood that he would be in no danger if he kept moving. No agent of the Radisha could outrun the steed he rode.
The Radisha remained distraught about his escape. It was critical to the conspiracy that every Company brother be caught or killed. If even one escaped the plague would return. Like Narayan Singh, she knew. Darkness always comes. She had seen it happen already, after the disaster at Dejagore.
She was terrified. She was convinced that the Year of the Skulls would commence shortly if any part of the grand plan failed. She had a great deal to say about Soulcatcher and none of it was complimentary. To get herself shut of a dreaded ally she might have taken on another who was far worse.
She remembered Catcher’s tricks and treats of a few years ago. She knew damned well that Soulcatcher was less predictable than any natural disaster.
The latest quakes had been felt in Taglios though no damage had been done there. Some people were afraid they meant that the gods, or some great power, were displeased by what had been done to the Black Company.
Croaker had mentioned the Company habit of paying back treachery so often that already some people were preparing for the vengeance storm. Again, that had to do with the terror of the Company name that no one would, or possibly could, explain.
Could that just have stolen into every heart from some shadowy source, never having possessed any
