Shadow Games: The Fourth Chronicles of the Black Company: First Book of the South (17 page)

It was never more than a glimpse from the corner of my eye, anyway. Maybe I was
imagining it.

I did not get to explore as thoroughly as I wanted. I was tempted to hang around
but the old animal down inside told me I did not want to be stranded in those
ruins after dark. It told me wicked things stalked Cho’n Delor’s night. I
listened. I went back over the river. Mogaba met me at the shore. He wanted to
know what I had found. He was as interested in the Company’s past as I was.

I liked and respected the big black man more with every hour. That evening I
formalized his hitherto de facto status as commander of the Company infantry.

And I resolved to take Murgen’s Annalist training more seriously.

Maybe it was just a hunch. Whatever, I decided that it was time I got the
Company’s internal workings whipped into order.

All these natives, lately, were afraid of us. They carried old grudges. Maybe
farther down the river there was somebody with less fear and a bigger grudge.

We were on the brink of lands where the Company’s adventures were recalled in
the early lost volumes of the Annals. The earliest extant picked up our tale in
cities north of Trogo Taglios—cities that no longer exist. I wished there was
some way I could dig details of the past out of the locals. But they were not
talking to us.

While I moped around Cho’n Delor One-Eye found a southern bargemaster willing to
carry us all the way to Trogo Taglios. The man’s fee was exorbitant, but Willow
Swan assured me I was unlikely to get a better offer. We were haunted by our
historical legacy.

I got no help from Swan or his companions unearthing that.

My notion for unmasking Swan and his gang gradually made very little headway.

The woman forced them to stay to themselves, which did not please Cordy Mather.

He was hungry for news from the empire. I did find out that the old man was
called Smoke, but never got a hint of the woman’s name. Even with Frogface on
the job.

They were cautious people.

Meantime, they watched us so closely I felt they were taking notes whenever I
bellied up to the rail to increase the flow in the river.

Other concerns plagued me, too. Crows. Always, crows. And Lady, who hardly spoke
these days. She pulled her turns at duty with the rest of the Company but stayed
out of the way otherwise.

Shifter and his girlfriend were not to be seen. They had disappeared while we
unloaded at Thresh—though I held the disturbing certainty that they were still
around, close enough to be watching.

What with the crows and all our arrivals anticipated I had the feeling I was
being watched all the time. It was not hard to get a little paranoid.

We rode the rapids of the First Cataract and swept on down the great river, into
the dawn of Company history.

My maps called it Troko Tallios. Locally they called it Trogo Taglios, though
those who lived there used the shorter Taglios, mostly. As Swan said, the Trogo
part refers to an older city that has been enveloped by the younger, more
energetic Taglios.

It was the biggest city I had ever seen, a vast sprawl without a protective
wall, still growing rapidly, horizontally instead of vertically. Northern cities
grow upward because no one wants to build outside the wall.

Taglios lay on the southeast bank of the great river, actually inland a little,

straddling a tributary that snakes between a half-dozen low hills. We debarked
in a place that was really a satellite of the greater city, a riverport town
called Maheranga. Soon Maheranga would share the fate of Trogo.

Trogo retained its identity only because it was the seat of the lords of the
greater principiate, its governmental and religious center.

The Taglian people seemed friendly, peaceable, and overly god-ridden, much as
Swan and Mather had described in brief exchanges during our journey. But
underneath that they seemed to be frightened. And Swan had told us nothing about
that.

And it was not the Company that was their terror. They treated us with respect
and courtesy.

Swan and party vanished as soon as we tied up. I did not have to tell One-Eye to
keep an eye on them.

The maps showed the sea only forty miles from Taglios, but that was along a
straight line to the nearest coast, west across the river. Down the river’s
meander and delta it was two hundred miles to salt water. On the map the delta
looked like a many-fingered, spidery hand clawing at the belly of the sea.

It is useful to know a little about Taglios because the Company ended up
spending a lot more time there than any of us planned. Maybe even more than the
Taglians themselves hoped.

Once I was convinced we would be secure doing so I ordered a break at Taglios.

The rest was overdue. And I needed to do some heavy research. We were near the
edge of the maps in my possession.

I discovered that I had come to count on Swan and Mather to show me around.

Without them I was forced to rely on One-Eye’s pet devil. And that I did not
like. For no reason I could finger, I did not entirely trust the imp. Maybe it
was because his sense of humor so closely reflected his owner’s. The only time
you trusted One-Eye was when your life was at stake.

I hoped we were now far enough south that I could chart the rest of our course
to Khatovar before we resumed travelling.

Lady had been the perfect soldier since the encounter on the river, though not
much of a companion otherwise. She was shaken badly by the Howler’s return and
enmity. He had been a staunch supporter in the old days.

She was still caught in the purgatory zone between the old Lady and the new that
had to be, and the heart was not bound in the same direction as the head. She
could not find her way out and, much as I ached for her, I did not know how to
take her hand and show her.

I figured she deserved a distraction. I had Frogface shop for a local equivalent
of Opal’s Gardens and he astonished me by finding one. I asked Lady if she would
be interested in a real social evening out.

She was amenable, if not excited after so many months of neglect. Not thrilled.

Just, “I don’t have anything better to do, so why not.”

She never was the social sort. And both my maneuver on the river and my evasions
through attention to duty had not left her pleased with me.

We did it decked out, with drama, though without as much uproar as we had raised
in Opal. I did not want the local lords taking offense. One-Eye and Goblin
behaved. Frogface was the only clear evidence of sorcery. None of that nastiness
we had shown in Opal. Frogface went along in his capacity as universal
translator.

One-Eye decked his pet out in a costume as flamboyant as his own, one that
mocked Goblin’s dress subtly. It seemed to state that this was how nice Goblin
could look if he would get over being a slob.

Taglios’s elite went to see and be seen in an olive grove past its prime bearing
years. The grove bestrode a hill near old Trogo. A hot spring fed a score of
private baths. It cost a bundle to get in when you were not known, most of that
in bribes. Even so, it was two days after I asked before room could be found for
us.

We went in the coach with Goblin and One-Eye up top and squads of four Nar each
marching before and behind. Murgen drove. He took the coach away after he
delivered us. The others accompanied us into the grove. I wore my legate’s
costume. Lady was dressed for the kill, but in black. All the time with the
black. It looked good on her, but times were I wished she would try another
color.

She said, “Our presence has stirred more interest than you expected.” Our advent
had caused very little stir in the streets of Taglios.

She was right. Unless the grove was a major in place to spend an evening a lot
of class folks had come out just to give us the eye. It looked like everyone who
might be anyone was there. “Wonder why?”

“There’s something going on here, Croaker.”

I am not blind. I knew. I knew after a few minutes with Willow Swan way back
upriver. But I could not find out what. Even Frogface was no help. If they did
any scheming they did it when he was not around.

Except for the Nar, who had lived with ceremony in Gea-Xle, we were all
uncomfortable under the pressure of so many eyes. I admitted, “This might not
have been one of my brighter ideas.”

“On the contrary. It confirms our suspicions that there’s a greater interest in
us than should be for simple travellers. They mean to use us.” She was
disturbed.

“Welcome to life in the Black Company, sweetheart,” I said. “Now you know why
I’m cynical about lords and such. Now you know one of the feelings I’ve been
trying to get across.”

“Maybe I get it. A little. I feel demeaned. Like I’m not human at all but an
object that might be useful.”

“Like I said, welcome to the Black Company.”

That was not all her problem. I barken back to the rogue Taken Howler, the dead
unexpectedly alive and inimical. No amount of tall talking would convince me his
appearance on the river was chance. He had been there to do us hurt.

Moreover, there had been an odd and unusual interest in us at least since Opal.

I looked for crows.

There were crows in the olive trees, quiet and still. Watching. Always watching.

Shapeshifter’s presence in Gea-Xle, the dead again living, waiting for Lady.

There were hidden schemes brewing. Too much had happened to let me believe
otherwise.

I had not pressed her. Yet. She was being a good soldier. Maybe waiting . . .

For what?

I had learned long ago that I can find out more around her sort by watching and
listening and thinking than I ever do by asking. They lie and mislead even when
there is no need. More, except in her own case, I did not think she had any
better idea what was stirring than I did.

The grove staff showed us to a private bower with its own hot mineral bath. The
Nar spread out. Goblin and One-Eye found themselves inconspicuous posts.

Frogface stayed close, to interpret.

We settled.

“How is your research coming?” Lady asked. She toyed with some plump purple
grapes.

“Strangely is the only way to describe it. I think we’re right up next to the
place where you come to the end of the earth and fall off the edge.”

“What? Oh. Your sense of humor.”

“Taglios is infested with chartmakers. They do good work. But I can’t find one
map that will get me where I want to go.”

“Maybe you haven’t been able to make them understand what you need.”

“It wasn’t that. They understood. That’s the problem. You tell them what you
need and they go deaf. New maps only run to the southern borders of Taglian
territory. When you can find an old one, it fades to blank eight hundred miles
southeast of the city. It’s the same even with maps so good they show damned
near every tree and cottage.”

“They’re hiding something?”

“A whole city? Don’t seem likely. But it does look like there’s no other
explanation.”

“You asked the appropriate questions?”

“With the silver-tongued cunning of a snake. When the blank space comes up
translation problems develop.”

“What will you do?”

Dusk had come. Lamplighters were at work. I watched a moment. “Maybe use
Frogface somehow. I’m not sure. We’re far enough back that the Annals are almost
useless. But the indicators are that we head straight for that blank space. You
have any thoughts about it?”

“Me?”

“You. Things are happening around the Company. I don’t think that’s because I
strut so pretty.”

“Phooey.”

“I haven’t pressed, Lady. For all there’s reason. And I won’t—unless I have to.

But it would be nice to know why we’ve got one dead Taken hanging around
watching us out of the bushes and another one that used to be your buddy trying
to kill us back in those swamps. Might be interesting to know if he knew you
were aboard that barge, or if he was working on a grudge against Shifter, or if
he just wanted to keep traffic from moving down the river. Might be interesting
to know if we’re likely to run into him again. Or somebody else who didn’t die
on time.”

I tried to keep my tone gentle and neutral but some of my anger got through.

The first food arrived, bits of iced melon soaked in brandy. While we nibbled,

some thoughtful soul gave our guardians food as well. Less elegant fare,

perhaps, but food nevertheless.

Lady sucked a melon ball and looked thoughtful. Then her whole stance changed.

She shouted, “Don’t eat that stuff!” She used the tongue of the Jewel Cities,

which by now even the most thick-witted of the Nar understood.

Silence grabbed the grove. The Nar dropped their platters.

I rose. “What is it?”

“Someone has tampered with their food.”

“Poison?”

“Drugged, I’d guess. I’d have to check more closely.”

I went and got the nearest’s platter. He looked grim behind his Nar mask of
indifference. He wanted to hurt somebody.

He got his chance when I turned back with my plunder.

A quick shuffle of feet. A thwack! of wood against flesh. A cry of pain that was
little more than a whimper. I turned. The Nar had his spearpoint resting on the
throat of a man sprawled before him. I recognized one of the lamplighters.

A long knife lay not far from his outflung hand.

I surveyed our surroundings. Bland faces watched from every direction.

“One-Eye. Frogface. Come here.” They came. “I want something low-key. Something
that won’t disturb anybody’s dinner. But something that will have him in a mood
to talk when I’m ready. Can do?”

One-Eye snickered. “I know just the thing.” He rubbed his hands in wicked glee
while Goblin, left out, pouted. “I know just the thing. Go enjoy your dinner and
sweet nothings. Old One-Eye will take care of everything. I’ll have him ready to
sing like a canary.”