Shadow Games: The Fourth Chronicles of the Black Company: First Book of the South (27 page)

I muttered, “I’ll take my help where I can get it.” Louder, “Could you make a
bat spy on people?”

One-Eye thought about it. “I couldn’t. But it might be possible. Though they
aren’t long on brains.”

“That’s all I needed to know.” Except for who was running the bats. The
Shadowmasters, I presumed.

The twenty-hour days started. When I was not preoccupied with anything else I
tried to learn the language. After you have learned enough they come easy. Or
easier, anyway.

We went at it trying to keep things simple. All the evidence indicated that the
Shadowmasters would use the Ghoja ford for their main crossing. I abdicated the
defense of the others to the cult leaders and concentrated on what I thought I’d
need to stop that main force in its tracks. If it got across the river and
started rolling north, I feared we would have a repeat of Swan’s campaign. Any
victory at all would be at a price too dear.

I started by forming the cadres of two legions based on the model used by the
Jewel Cities in early times, when their armies were citizens with little field
experience. The command structure was the simplest possible. The organization
was pure infantry. Mogaba was overall commander of the foot and boss of the
first legion. His lieutenant Ochiba got the second legion. Each got to keep ten
Nar for NCOs and each of those ten picked a hundred candidates from among the
Taglian volunteers. That gave each legion a thousand-man base which would be
expanded about as fast as the Nar could teach them to march in a straight line.

Mogaba got Wheezer, Lion, and Heart for staff work. I did not know what else to
do with those three. They were willing but had little practical value.

Sindawe and the remaining Nar were to form a third, training and reserve legion
that I expected to employ only in desperation.

Otto, Hagop, the Guards, and the roi I charged with putting together a cavalry
force.

Sparkle, Candles, Cletus, and the rest from Opal and Beryl got stuck with the
fun stuff, quartermastering and engineering. Hagop’s nephew ended up with him.

He was another one who was useless.

The ideas were mostly Mogaba’s recommendations, which he had worked out while I
was scouting southward. I did not agree with all of them, but it seemed a sin to
waste the work he had done. And we had to move in some direction. Now.

He had it all figured. Sindawe’s legion would both produce new people for the
leading two units and would develop as a force itself more slowly. He did not
believe we could manage a force larger than three legions till we developed a
lot of local talent.

Lady, Goblin, One-Eye, and I were left to handle everything else. The important,

exciting stuff, like dealing with the Prahbrindrah and his sister. Like setting
up an intelligence operation, finding out if there were any local wizards we
could use. Charting strategy. Coming up with gimmicks. Good old Mogaba was
willing to leave me the staff work and strategy.

Actually, about the way it should be. The man embarrassed me with his
competence.

“Goblin, I guess you should take counterintelligence,” I said.

“Har!” One-Eye said. “That fits him perfectly.”

“Borrow Frogface whenever you need him.” The imp moaned. He got no pleasure out
of having to work.

Goblin put on a smug look. “I don’t need that thing, Croaker.”

I did not like that. The runt was up to something. Ever since we came back from
the country he had had that smugness about him. It meant trouble. He and One-Eye
could get so involved in their feud they forgot the rest of the world.

Time would tell what was up.

“Whatever you say,” I told Goblin. “As long as you get the job done. Dangerous
agents of the Shadowmasters I want you to take out. Small-timers set up so we
can feed them false information. We’ve also got to keep one eye on the big
priests. They’re bound to give us grief as soon as they figure out how. Human
nature.”

Lady I put in charge of showmanship and planning. I had decided where I wanted
to meet the enemy already, before I had anything to meet him with. I told her to
work out the details. She was a better tactician than I. She had managed the
armies of an empire with astonishing success.

I was learning that part of a captain’s job is to delegate. Maybe genius lies in
choosing the right person for the right task.

We had maybe five weeks. And the time was counting down. And down. And down.

I did not think we had a prayer.

Nobody got much sleep. Everybody got testy. But that is the way it is in our
business. You learn to adjust to it, to understand. Mogaba kept telling me it
was going great on his end, but I never got time to review his outfits. Hagop
and Otto were less pleased with their progress. Their recruits were of classes
that saw discipline as something imposed only upon their inferiors. Otto and
Hagop had to resort to asskicking to get their people in line. They came up with
a couple of interesting ideas, like adding elephants to the cavalry. The
Prahbrindrah’s census of animals had turned up a few hundred work elephants.

I spent my time rushing around in confusion, more often a politician than a
commander. I avoided recourse to dictate when I could, preferring persuasion,

but two of the High Priests gave me no choice most of the time. If I said black
they said white just to let me know they considered themselves Taglios’s real
bosses.

If I’d had time I’d have gotten vexed with them. I didn’t, so I didn’t play
their games. I got them and their chief boys together, with the Prahbrindrah and
his sister chaperoning, and told them I didn’t care for their attitude, that I
would not tolerate it, and the schedule from here on in was do it Croaker’s way
or die. If they didn’t like that, they were welcome to take their best crack at
me. Then I would roast them over a slow fire in one of the public squares.

I did not make myself popular.

I was bluffing, sort of. I would do what had to be done, but did not expect to
have to do it. My apparently violent nature should cow them while I got on with
the job. I would worry about them after I’d turned the Shadowmasters.

Thinking positive all the time. That’s me.

I’d have starved if I’d gotten a pound of bread for every minute I really
believed we had a chance.

Several people made sure news of the face-off got out. I heard rumors that some
temples closed their doors for lack of business. Others had to turn away angry
crowds.

Great.

But how long would it last? These peoples’ passion for supernatural nonsense was
far older and more ingrained than their passion for militarism.

“What the hell happened?” I asked Swan, first chance I got. I was getting the
language, but not fast enough to grasp religious subtleties.

“I think Blade happened.” He seemed bemused.

“Say what?”

“Ever since we’ve been here Blade’s been spreading seditious nonsense about
priests should stick to taking care of souls and karma and keep their noses out
of politics. Been selling that down to our place. And when he heard about your
confab with the High Priests he got himself out in the streets to spread what he
called ‘the true story.’ These people are all for their gods, you better
remember that, but they ain’t so hot on some of their priests. Especially the
kind that grab them by the purse and squeeze.”

I laughed. Then I said, “You tell him to back off. I’ve got troubles enough
without a religious revolution.”

“Right. I don’t think you got to worry about that.”

I had to worry about everything. Taglian society was under extreme stress,

though it took an outsider to see it. Too many changes too fast in a
traditionalist, restrictive society. No way for conventional mechanisms to
adjust. Saving Taglios would be like riding the whirlwind. I would have to stay
light on my feet to keep the frustration and fear directed against the
Shadowmasters.

One-Eye wakened me in the middle of one of my four-hour snoozes. “Jahamaraj Jah
is here. Says he’s got to see you right now.”

“His kid take a turn for the worse?”

“She’s fine. He thinks he’s going to pay you off.”

“Bring him in.”

The priest slipped in looking furtive. He bowed and scraped like a street
dweller. He plied me with every title the Taglian people had been able to
imagine, including Healer. Appendectomy was a piece of surgery unknown in those
parts. He looked around as though expecting ears growing out of the walls. Maybe
that was an occupational hazard. He did not like the sight of Frogface at all.

That suggested some people knew what the imp was. I should keep that in mind.

“Is it safe to talk?” he asked. I followed that without translation.

“Yes.”

“I must not stay long. They will be watching me, knowing I owe you a great debt,

Healer.”

Then get on with it, I thought. “Yes?”

“The High Priest of the Shadar, my superior, Ghojarindi Ghoj, whose patron is
Hada, one of whose avatars is Death. You distressed him the other night. He has
told the Children of Hada that Hada thirsts for your ka.”

Frogface translated, and added commentary. “Hada is the Shadar goddess of Death,

Destruction, and Corruption, Cap. The Children of Hada are a subcult who
dedicate themselves by way of murder and torture. Doctrine says that should be
random and senseless. The way it works out, though, is that those who die have
got onto the boss priest’s shitlist.”

“I see.” I smiled slightly. “And who is your patron, Jahamaraj Jah?”

He smiled back. “Khadi.”

“All Sweetness and Light, I take it.”

“Hell no, chief. She’s Hada’s twin sister. Just as damned nasty. Got her fingers
into plague, famine, disease, fun stuff like that. One of the big things the
Shadar and Gunni cults squabble about is whether Hada and Khadi are separate
deities or just one with two faces.”

“I love it. I bet people get killed over it. And priests look at me weird when I
say I can’t take them seriously. One-Eye. You figure I’m guessing right when I
think our buddy here is helping himself by trying to weasel out of a debt?”

One-Eye chuckled. “I figure he plans to be the next Shadar boss.”

I had Frogface go straight at him. He did not blush. He admitted he was the most
likely successor to Ghojarindi Ghoj.

“In that case I don’t figure he’s done anything but make the vig. Tell him
thanks but I figure he still owes me. Tell him that if he all of a sudden finds
himself boss priest of the Shadar I’d be real proud if he’d make his people mind
and not get too ambitious himself for a year or two.”

Frogface told him. His grin went away. His lips tightened into a wrinkly little
nut. But he bobbed his head.

“Get him on the road, One-Eye. Wouldn’t want him getting in trouble with his
boss.”

I went and wakened Goblin. “We got priest problems. Character named Ghojarindi
Ghoj is siccing assassins on me. Take Murgen, go over to Swan’s dive, dig out
his resident priest hater, have him finger the guy. He needs promoting to a
higher plane. It don’t have to be spectacular, just unpleasant. Like having him
shit himself to death.”

Grumbling, Goblin went to find Murgen.

One-Eye and Frogface got to watch for would-be assassins.

They were professionals but they were not up to getting past Frogface. There
were six of them. I had some of the Nar, who favored that sort of thing, take
them to a public square and impale them.

Ghojarindi Ghoj went west a day later. He perished of a sudden, dramatic surfeit
of boils. The lesson was not lost on anyone.

The lesson was, of course, don’t get caught.

Nobody seemed upset or displeased. The attitude was, Ghoj had placed his bets
and taken his chances. But the Radisha did give me some thoughtful looks while
we fussed over whether I needed another thousand swords and especially if I
needed the hundred tons of charcoal I had requisitioned.

Actually, we were to the games-playing stage already. I asked for a hundred tons
knowing I wanted ten, figuring to groan and gripe and give in and get more of
the arms.

The recruits were providing their own kit. The arms I most wanted financed by
the state were pieces that could not be well explained to a civilian. I was
having trouble enough convincing Mogaba that wheeled light artillery might be of
value.

I was not sure it would myself. That depended on what the enemy did. If they
behaved as they had before, artillery would be wasted. But the model was the
Jewel Cities legion. Those guys dragged light engines along to knock holes in
enemy formations.

Oh, fuss. Some things you just settle by saying I’m the boss and you’ll do it my
way.

Mogaba did not mind.

Seventeen days to go, estimated. Lady visited me. I asked her, “Will you be
ready?”

“I’m almost ready now.”

“One positive report amongst the hundreds. You brighten my life.”

She gave me a funny look. “I’ve seen Shifter. He’s been across the river.”

One-Eye and Goblin, in their capacities as spymasters, had had little luck,

mostly because the Main was just plain uncrossable. They had no lack of
volunteers.

As for cleaning up the Shadowmasters’ agents in Taglios, that had not taken them
ten days. A bunch of little brown guys had bitten the dust. A few native
Taglians remained. We were feeding them plenty of truth, and just enough bull to
tempt their masters into making their major crossing effort where I wanted it.

“Ah. And did he learn anything we want to hear?”

She grinned. “He did. You get your wish. They’ll bring their main force over at
the Ghoja ford. And they won’t be with their armies. They don’t trust each other
enough to leave home base unguarded.”

“Beautiful. Suddenly, I feel like we’ve got a chance. Maybe only one in ten, but
a chance.”

“And now for the bad news.”