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Authors: Glen Cook

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BOOK: Shadows Linger
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“Not if we can stop him. But we may have gotten here too late. This man. If we
don't take him soon, it will be too late. The portal is almost ready to open.”

I looked at Elmo. He looked at me. Oh boy, I thought. If Raven knew what he was
doing. ... I still couldn't get upset. He did it for Darling. He couldn't have
known he was doing the Dominator's work. He had that much conscience. He would
have found another way. . . . What the hell was he going to do with so much
money?

We had to find him. That was all there was to it. Whatever we did from now on,

our main goal, for the sake of the Company, had to be to warn him off.

I glanced at Elmo. He agreed. From this moment forward we would be fighting for
the survival of the outfit. Somewhere, somehow, Raven must have smelled trouble.

Goblin looked under every rock in the Buskin, watched every alley, practically
lived in the Iron Lily, and still found a big bunch of nothing. Time ground
past. Warmer weather threatened. And we became ever more panicky.

Black Company N 2 - Shadows Linger
Chapter Twenty-One:

JUNIPER
Raven departed soon after the outer channel opened. Shed went down to say
good-bye-and only then discovered the nature of Raven's shipping investment. He
had had a ship built and crewed. A whole new ship, and as big a vessel as Shed
had seen. “No wonder he needed a fortune,” he mused. How many bodies to build
that?

He returned to the Lily numbed. He poured himself some wine, sat staring into
nothing. “That Raven was a man of vision,” he mumbled. "Glad he's gone, though.

Asa, too. Maybe things can get back to normal."

Shed bought a cottage near the Enclosure. He installed his mother with a staff
of three. It was a relief to be rid of her evil, blind stare.

He had workmen into the Lily every day. They interfered with business, but
business remained good. The harbor was busy. There was work for anyone who
wanted it.

Shed could not handle prosperity. He hared after every impulse he had known
during his impoverishment. He bought fine clothing he dared not wear. He went
places frequented only by the wealthy. And he bought the attentions of beautiful
women.

Women cost a lot when you pretended to be somebody off the high slope.

One day Shed went to his secret cash box and found it empty. All that money
gone? Where? The improvements on the Lily weren't finished. He owed the workmen.

He owed the people caring for his mother. Damn! Was he back where he started?

Hardly. He had his profits.

He scampered downstairs, to his business cash box, opened it, sighed in relief.

He'd done all his spending out of the box upstairs.

But something was wrong. There wasn't anywhere near enough in the box. . . .

“Hey, Wally.”

His cousin looked at him, gulped, raced out the door. Baffled, Shed hurried
outside, saw Wally vanish into an alley. Then the truth hit him. “Damn you!” he
yelled. “Damn you, you damned thief!” He went back in and tried to figure where
he stood.

An hour later he told the workmen to knock off. He left his new girl Lisa in
charge, started the rounds of his suppliers.

Wally had screwed him good. He had bought on credit and pocketed monies payable.

Shed covered his debts as he went, growing increasingly alarmed as his reserves
dwindled. Down to little more than copper, he returned to the Lily and started
an inventory.

At least Wally hadn't sold what he had bought on credit. The Lily was
well-stocked.

Only what was he going to do about his mother?

The house was paid for. That was a plus. But the old girl needed her servants to
survive. And he couldn't pay their wages. But he didn't want her back in the
Lily. He could sell all those clothes. He'd spent a fortune on them and couldn't
wear them. He did some figuring. Yes. Sell the clothes and he could support his
mother till next summer.

No more clothes. No more women. No more improvements on the Lily. . . . Maybe
Wally hadn't spent it all.

Finding Wally was not difficult. He returned to his family after two days in
hiding. He thought Shed would endure the loss. He didn't know he was dealing
with a new Shed.

Shed stormed to his cousin's tiny one-room apartment, kicked the door in.

“Wally!”

Wally squealed. His children and wife and mother all screeched questions. Shed
ignored them. “Wally, I want it back! Every damned copper!”

Wally's wife got in his way. “Calm down, Marron. What's the matter?”

“Wally!” Wally cowered in a corner. “Out of my way, Sal. He stole damned near a
hundred leva.“ Shed grabbed his cousin and dragged him out the doorway. ”I want
it back.”

“Shed. . . .”

Shed shoved him. He staggered backward, tripped, rolled down a flight of stairs.

Shed charged after him, hurled him down another flight.

“Shed, please. ...”

“Where's the money, Wally? I want the money.”

"I don't have it, Shed. I spent it. Honest. The kids had to have clothes. We had
to eat. I couldn't help it, Shed. You had so much. . . . You're family, Shed.

You're supposed to help."

Shed shoved him into the street, kicked him in the groin, dragged him upright,

started slapping. "Where is it, Wally? You couldn't have spent that much. Hell,

your kids are wearing rags. I paid you enough to handle that. Because you were
family. I want the money you stole." As he raged, Shed drove his cousin toward
the Lily.

Wally whined and begged, refusing to tell the truth. Shed guessed he had stolen
upward of fifty leva, enough to have completed the renovation of the Lily. This
hadn't been petty pilfering. He hurled blows in an angry rain.

He herded Wally around behind the Lily, away from prying eyes. "Now I get nasty,

Wally."

“Shed, please. ...”

“You stole from me and you're lying about it. I could forgive you for doing it
for your family. But you didn't. Tell me. Or give it back.” He punched Wally
hard.

The pain in his hands, from hitting the man, sapped his rage. But then Wally
broke. "I lost it gambling. I know I
was stupid. But I was so sure I was going to win. They took me. They let me
think I was going to win big, then took me, and the only way out was to steal.

They would have killed me. I borrowed from Gilbert after I told him how good you
were doing. ..."

“Lost it? Gambling? Borrowed from Gilbert?” Shed muttered. Gilbert had moved in
on Krage's territories. He was a bad as his predecessor. “How could you be so
stupid?” The rage took him again. He snatched a board off a scrap pile left for
kindling. He hit Wally hard. And hit him again. His cousin went down, stopped
trying to fend off the blows.

Shed froze, suddenly coldly rational. Wally wasn't moving. "Wally? Wally? Hey,

Wally. Say something."

Wally did not respond.

Shed's stomach knotted. He tossed the board into the pile. "Have to get that
inside before people cart it off.“ He gripped his cousin's shoulder. ”Come on,

Wally. I won't hit you anymore."

Wally did not move.

“Oh, shit,” Shed muttered. “I killed him.” This tore it. What now? There wasn't
much justice in the Buskin, but what there was was quick and rough. They would
hang him sure.

He whirled, looking for witnesses. He saw no one. His mind flew in a hundred
directions. There was a way out. No body, no proof that murder had been done.

But he'd never gone up that hill alone.

Hastily, he dragged Wally to the scrap pile and covered him. The amulet he
needed to get into the black castle. Where was it? He dashed into the Lily,

roared upstairs, found the amulet, examined it. Definitely serpents intertwined.

The workmanship was amazingly detailed. Tiny jewels formed the eyes of the
snakes. They sparkled menacingly in the afternoon sun.

He stuffed the amulet into his pocket. “Shed, get yourself together. Panic and
you're dead.”

How long before Sal yelled for the law? A few days, surely. Plenty of time.

Raven had left him his wagon and team. He hadn't thought to keep paying the
stable-keeper. Had the man sold them? If so, he was in trouble.

He cleaned out his coin boxes, left the Lily in Lisa's care.

The stable-keeper hadn't sold off, but the mules were looking lean. Shed cursed
him.

“I should feed them at my own expense, mister?”

Shed cursed him some more and paid what was owed. He said, “Feed them. And have
them hitched and ready at the tenth hour.”

Shed remained panicky all afternoon. Somebody might find Wally. But no lawman
came stamping in. Soon after dark he stole away to the stable.

He spent the journey alternately being terrified and wondering how much Wally
would bring. And how much he could get for his wagon and team. He hadn't
factored them into his earlier calculations.

He ought to help Wally's family. He had to. It was the decent thing. ... He was
acquiring too many dependents.

Then he was facing the dark gate. The castle, with all its monstrous decoration,

was terrible, but it didn't seem to have grown since last he had been there. He
knocked as Raven had done, his heart in his throat. He gripped his amulet in his
left hand.

What was taking them so long? He hammered again. The gate jumped open, startling
him. He fled to his wagon, got the mules moving.

He entered exactly as Raven had done, ignoring everything but his driving. He
halted in the same place, climbed down, dragged Wally out.

No one came for several minutes. He grew ever more nervous, wishing he'd had the
sense to come armed. What guarantee did he have that they wouldn't turn on him?

That silly amulet?

Something moved. He gasped.

The creature that stepped out of the shadow was short and wide and radiated an
air of contempt. It never looked at him. Its examination of the cadaver was
detailed. It was being difficult, like some petty official with a helpless
citizen momentarily in his power. Shed knew how to handle that. Stubborn
patience and refusal to become irritated. He stood motionless, waiting.

The creature finally placed twenty-five pieces of silver near Wally's feet.

Shed grimaced, but collected the cash. He returned to his seat, backed the
wagon, got the team aligned with the gate. Only then did he register his
protest. “That was a prime corpse. Next time you'll do better, or there won't be
a time after that. Git up.” Out the gate he went, amazed at his temerity.

Going down the hill he sang. He felt great. Except for a fading guilt about
Wally-the bastard had earned it-he was at peace with his world. He was free and
safe, out of debt, and now had money in reserve. He returned his team to its
stable, wakened the stable-keeper, paid four months in advance. “Take good care
of my animals,” he admonished.

A representative of the precinct Magistrate showed up next day. He had questions
about Wally's disappearance. Sal had reported the fight.

Shed admitted it, “I kicked the shit out of him. But I don't know what happened
to him. He just took off. I would've run, too, if I had somebody that mad at
me.“ ”What was the fight about?”

Shed played the role of a man who didn't want to get anybody in trouble.

Finally, he admitted, “He worked for me. He stole money to pay back money he
borrowed to pay gambling debts. Check with my suppliers. They'll tell how he
bought on credit. He told me he was paying cash.”

“How much was involved?”

“Can't say exactly,” Shed replied. “More than fifty leva. My whole profit for
the summer, and then some.”

The questioner whistled. “I don't blame you for getting pissed.”

“Yeah. I wouldn't have begrudged him money to help his family. He's got a whole
mob to take care of. But to lose it gambling. . . . Damn, I was hot. I borrowed
to fix this place up. The payments are rough. I probably won't make it through
the winter now, because that bastard couldn't resist a game. I may still break
his neck.”

It was a good act. Shed pulled it off.

“You want to register a formal complaint?”

Shed played reluctant. “He's family. My cousin.”

“I'd break my own father's back if he did that to me.”

“Yeah. All right. I'll register it. But don't go hanging him right away. Maybe
he can work it out or something. Hell, maybe he's still got some he can pay
back. He could have lied about losing it all. He lied about a lot of things.”

Shed shook his head. “He worked for us on-and-off since my father ran this
place. I never thought he'd do anything like that.”

“You know how it is. You get too far into debt and the vultures start closing
in, you'll do anything to save your ass. You don't worry about tomorrow. We see
it all the time.”

Shed nodded. He knew how it was.

After the Magistrate's man departed, Shed told Lisa: “I'm going out.” He wanted
one last fling before he settled in to the dreary business of managing the Lily.

He bought the most skilled, most beautiful woman he could find. She cost, but
she was worth every copper. He returned to the Lily wishing he could live that
way all the time. He dreamed about the woman that night.

Lisa wakened him early. “There's a man here who wants to see you.”

“Who is he?”

“He didn't say.”

Cursing, Shed rolled out. He did nothing to hide his nakedness. More than once
he had hinted that Lisa should include more than barmaid's chores in her duties.

She was not cooperating. He had to find a handle. . . . He'd better look out. He
was getting obsessed with sex. That could give somebody a handle.

He descended to the common room. Lisa indicated a man. He was no one Shed knew.

“You wanted to see me?”

“You got someplace private?”

A hard case. Now what? He did not owe anyone. He did not have any enemies.

“What's your business?”

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