“Will the log make it that far?” Not knowing how those things worked I did not know what you might have to feed it, like a horse. The posts did seem to work on a different principle than Howler’s flying carpets, which required a strong-willed, powerful sorcerer to drive them. They demanded his undivided attention every moment they were aloft.
“I’m sure it will. What do you want me to tell Mogaba?”
The long-time taunt, “My brother unforgiven,” came to mind, along with, “All their days are numbered.” But this was not the time.
62
Dejagore:
The Occupation
My original intention had been to make a huge show of our invasion. I do like a big ration of drama. Lightning. Thunder. Fireworks. But I waited until we had the gate open to let it start.
Early on there were alarms from the south wall as a tide of darkness and whispers passed by. But no sentry saw a single horsemen. They spied only vague shapes that stirred secret fears of things far darker and crueler than any conquering soldier.
The city was restless and troubled but remained unaware of our presence. It did sense approaching change.
The thunder and lightning came after Blade’s men started coming through the gate, six hundred men in Hsien’s strange armor, under strict orders not to betray their humanity until the city was captured. Most Dejagorans were Gunni. The Gunni believed in demons who could take human shape to make war on men. And most of the people of the outlying Taglian Territories had by now heard that the Company was allied with ghosts and devils.
Each soldier had a bamboo wand carrying a banner affixed to his back. The color of the banner declared the man’s unit affiliation while characters painted on the banner stated that unit’s martial slogan. Widowmaker and Lifetaker rode at the head of the invading column. She carried a burning sword. Widowmaker carried One-Eye’s spear, which was crawling with maggots of light. His shoulders bore a salt-and-pepper set of oversized ravens.
And, even so, much of the city slept on.
Ugly worms of fire crawled over our hideous armor.
Bannermen marched ahead flailing big flags supposed to be our personal ensigns.
Witnesses brought out by the flash and boom and the rattle of horseshoes remembered old stories and ran away weeping.
Yet most of the city slept on.
Doj, Murgen, Thai Dei and Swan remained at the gate, holding the hostages we had taken there. Aridatha stayed out of sight at his brother’s place. Howler, Tobo and Shukrat circled high above. Howler’s glass bowl continued to contain his shrieks. We hoped he would remain a secret for a while.
The real fireworks began when we reached the citadel, where the Protector’s still-sleepy governor deluded himself into thinking he could refuse to surrender and make it stick.
Fireballs flew. The citadel gate exploded. Holes appeared in its walls. People inside began to scream.
Every dark place in the streets had something moving inside it. Hundreds of somethings, many of them vaguely familiar in those instants when anything could be clearly discerned.
Those flooded in through the broken gate of the citadel. They weaseled through the holes in its walls.
Lifetaker and Widowmaker followed moments later.
The terrified inhabitants of the tower put up no fight at all. Our sole injury was a broken arm suffered by a dimwit who tripped over his own big feet and rolled down a stair.
Lady and I stood atop the citadel. The city below still was not fully aware that it had been conquered. I said, “It hurt a lot less getting here tonight than it did last time.”
“That was the night we made Booboo.”
“Which was a real booboo.”
“Not funny.”
“That was the night One-Eye made the enemy that stalked us for twenty years, too.”
“We’ll make new enemies this time. I have to go if I want to have any hope of getting Aridatha into Taglios unnoticed.”
“I don’t think you can, tonight. Not without flying so damned fast the wind rips the skin off your face.”
“I’ll see if Tobo can’t help.”
It was difficult to kiss her good-bye. We still wore all the costume armor.
63
The Taglian Territories:
The Middle Army
The Protector’s reconnaissance troops had warned her that something unusual was taking shape. The warning confirmed her suspicions. Her nonhuman spies had been having almost no success keeping track of the enemy. Which meant the enemy was taking pains to be less visible.
Soulcatcher raised the state of alert and stepped up training. She redoubled her own personal preparations.
When word of the disaster at Dejagore reached her—one lone rider managing to get through with the news —she had known for fourteen hours already that the Company main force had left its westward track and had begun hustling up a line that would slice between her Middle Army and the newly orphaned force outside Dejagore.
That would evaporate within days, she presumed. Many of those soldiers came out of the city itself—a disproportionate percentage of them officers—while the rest would now hear the call of the harvest much more loudly.
What the hell had happened down there? The messenger had brought very few details, just word that the city had awakened to find itself occupied. The invaders had been swift and thorough. They seemed to have had outstanding intelligence. Heavy sorcery might have been involved.
“The next fight won’t be so one-sided,” she promised her officers. “Next fight they’ll have to deal with me. Me like they haven’t seen me in a long, long time.” She was angry and awake and no longer handicapped by any shred of boredom. She was feeling more alive and filled with hatred and bitterness than she had for a generation.
Within hours her new mood had electrified those around her.
Officers who failed to become equally electrified quickly suffered permanent replacement.
64
Dejagore:
The Orphaned Army
After losing their base at Dejagore the generals of the fading, confused army nearby ineptly tried to invest the city in a way that would not result in economic disaster. Then, six days after the fall, news came that the enemy main force was rushing straight toward them.
There had been skirmishes with the cavalry occupying Dejagore. Those had not gone well for the locals. And now ten times as many well-disciplined, perfectly-armed, trained killers were about to fall on them.
A third of the army went home under cover of darkness the night after the news arrived. Those who stayed endured almost continuous psychological torments by things they could never see.
