Shadows Linger (25 page)

One-Eye pointed. We all looked up the wall, which loomed a good sixty feet above
us. I did not see anything. Neither did the Lieutenant. “What?” he asked again.

“Something was watching us. Nasty-looking critter.”

“I saw it too,” Elmo volunteered. “Long, skinny, yellowish guy with eyes like a
snake.”

I considered the wall. “How could you tell from here?”

Elmo shivered and shrugged. “I could. And I didn't like it. Looked like he
wanted to bite me.” We dragged on through brush and over boulders, keeping one
eye on the castle, the other on the down slope. Elmo muttered, "Hungry eyes.

That's what they were."

We reached the ridgeline west of the castle. The Lieutenant paused. “How close
can you get?”

I shrugged. “I haven't had the balls to find out.”

The Lieutenant moved here, there, as if sighting on something. “Let's bring up
some prisoners and find out.”

I sucked spittle between my teeth, then said, “You won't get the locals anywhere
near the place.”

“Think not? How about in exchange for a pardon? Candy's rounded up half the
villains in the Buskin. Got a regular anti-crime crusade going. He gets three
complaints about somebody, he nabs them.”

“Sounds a little simple,” I said. We were moving around for a look at the castle
gate. By simple I meant simplistic, not easy.

The Lieutenant chuckled. Months of hardship had not sapped his bizarre sense of
humor. “Simple minds respond to simple answers. A few months of Candy's reforms
and the Duke will be a hero.”

I understood the reasoning. Juniper was a lawless city, ruled by regional
strongmen. There were hordes of Sheds who lived in terror, continuously
victimized. Anyone who lessened the terror would win their affection. Adequately
developed, that affection would survive later excesses.

I wondered, though, if the support of weaklings was worth much. Or if, should we
successfully infect them with courage, we might not be creating trouble for
ourselves later. Take away daily domestic oppression and they might imagine
oppression on our part.

I have seen it before. Little people have to hate, have to blame someone for
their own inadequacies.

But that was not the problem of the moment. The moment demanded immediate,

vigorous, violent attention. The castle gate popped open as we came in line. A
half-dozen wild beings in black rushed us. A fog of lethargy settled upon me,

and I found fear fading the moment it sparked into existence. By the time they
were halfway to us, all I wanted was to lie down.

Pain filled my limbs. My head ached. Cramps knotted my stomach. The lethargy
vanished.

One-Eye was doing strange things, dancing, yelping like a wolf pup, throwing his
hands around like wounded birds. His big, weird hat flew off and tumbled with
the breeze, downhill, till it became tangled in the brush. Between yelps he
snapped, “Do something, you idiots! I can't hold them forever.”

Shang! Elmo's sword cleared its scabbard. The Lieutenant's did the same. I was
carrying nothing but a long dagger. I whipped it out and joined the rush. The
castle creatures stood frozen, surprise in their ophidian eyes. The Lieutenant
reached them first, stopped, wound up, took a mighty two-handed swing.

He lugs a hanger that is damned near an executioner's sword. A blow like that
would have severed the necks of three men. It did not remove the head of his
victim, though it did bite deep. Blood sprayed the three of us.

Elmo went with a thrust, as did I. His sword drove a foot into his victim. My
dagger felt like it had hit soft wood. It sank but three inches into my victim.

Probably not deeply enough to reach anything vital.

I yanked my blade free, poked around in my medical knowledge for a better
killing point. Elmo kicked his victim in the chest to get his weapon free.

The Lieutenant had the best weapon and approach. He hacked another neck while we
diddled around.

Then One-Eye lost it. The eyes of the castle creatures came alive. Pure fiery
venom burned there. I feared the two not yet harmed would swarm all over us. But
the Lieutenant threw a wild stroke and they retreated. The one I had wounded
staggered after them. He fell before he reached the gate. He kept crawling. The
gate closed in his face.

“So,” the Lieutenant said. “There's a few lads we don't have to face later. My
commendation, One-Eye.” He spoke calmly enough, but his voice was up in the
squeak range. His hands shook. It had been close. We would not have survived had
One-Eye not come along. “I think I've seen enough for today. Let's hike.”

Ninety percent of me wanted to run as fast as I could. Ten percent stuck to
business. “Let's drag one of these bastards along,” it croaked out of a mouth
dry with fear. “What the hell for?” Elmo demanded. “So I can carve it up and see
what it is.“ ”Yeah.” The Lieutenant squatted and grabbed a body under the arms.

It struggled feebly. Shuddering, I took hold of booted feet and hoisted. The
creature folded in the middle.

“Hell with that,” the Lieutenant said. He dropped his end, joined me. “You pull
that leg. I'll pull this one.”

We pulled. The body slid sideways. We started bickering about who should do
what.

“You guys want to stop crapping around?” One-Eye snarled. He stabbed a wrinkled
black finger. I looked back. Creatures had appeared on the battlements. I felt
an increase in the dread the castle inspired.

“Something's happening,” I said, and headed downhill, never letting go of the
body. The Lieutenant came along. Our burden took a beating going through the
rock and brush.

Wham! Something hit the slope like the stamp of a giant's foot. I felt like a
roach fleeing a man who hated cockroaches and had his stomping boots on. There
was another stamp, more earth-shaking.

“Oh, shit,” Elmo said. He came past me, arms and legs pumping. One-Eye was right
behind him, flying low, gaining ground. Neither offered to help.

A third thump, and a fourth, about equally spaced in time, each closer than the
last. The last sent chunks of stone and dead brush arcing overhead.

Fifty yards down-slope One-Eye halted, whirled, did one of his magic things. A
chunk of pale blue fire exploded in his upraised hands, went roaring up the
hill, moaning past me less than a foot away. The Lieutenant and I passed
One-Eye. A fifth giant stomp spattered our backs with shards of rock and brush.

One-Eye let out a mad howl and ran again. He yelled, "That was my best shot.

Better dump that clown and scatter." He pulled away, bounding like a hare
fleeing hounds.

A scream filled the valley of the Port. A pair of dots came hurtling over from
the southern slope, almost too fast for the eye to follow. They passed over with
a hollow, deep roar, and boomed like a god's drum behind us. I was not sure, but
it seemed the dots were connected.

Another pair appeared, revolving about a common center. I got a better look.

Yes, they were connected. They roared. They boomed. I glanced back. The face of
the black castle had vanished behind a wall of color like paint thrown against,

then running down, a pane of glass to which it would not adhere.

“Taken are on the job,” the Lieutenant panted. His eyes were wild, but he clung
to his side of our burden.

The damned creature got hung up. Panicky, we hacked its clothing free from a
thorn bush. I kept looking up, expecting something to come down and smash us all
over the slope.

Another pair of balls arrived, spraying color. They did no obvious harm, but
kept the castle occupied. We freed our booty, hurried on.

A different sort of dot pair came, dropping from high above. I pointed. “Feather
and Whisper.” The Taken plunged toward the black castle, preceded by a
high-pitched shriek. Fire enveloped the castle wall. Obsidian seemed to melt and
run like candle wax, shifting the already grotesque decorations into forms even
more bizarre. The Taken pulled out, gained altitude, came around for another
pass. In the interim another pair of dots screamed across the Port valley and
painted the planes of the air. It would have been a great show if I had not been
so damned busy getting away.

The slope resounded to the stamp of an invisible giant. A circle fifteen feet
across and five deep appeared above us. Sticks and stones flew. It missed by
only a dozen feet. The impact knocked us down. A line of like imprints marched
back up the slope.

Mighty though that blow was, it was less forceful than its predecessors.

Feather and Whisper swooped again, and again the face of the black castle
melted, ran, shifted form. Then thunder racked the air. Barn-bam! Both Taken
vanished in clouds of smoke. They wobbled out, fighting for control of their
carpets. Both smouldered the way Feather had the night we captured Shed. They
fought for altitude.

The castle turned its entire attention to them. The Lieutenant and I made our
escape.

JUNIPER: FLIGHT
The Lily shuddered several times.

Shed was doing mugs and wondering which of his customers were Black Company. The
shaking made him nervous. Then a shriek flashed overhead, rising, then falling
as it whipped away north. A moment later the earth shivered again, strong enough
to rattle crockery. He rushed into the street. One small, cunning part of him
kept watching his customers, trying to determine who was watching him. His
chance of escape had lessened drastically with the advent of the Company. He no
longer knew who was who. They all knew him.

He hit the street as a second shriek came from the direction of the Enclosure.

He followed pointing hands. A pair of balls joined by a cord whipped away to the
north. Seconds later all Juniper was illuminated by a particolored glare.

“The black castle!” people said. “They hit the black castle.”

Shed could see it from his street. It had vanished behind a curtain of color.

Terror gripped his heart. He could not understand it. He was safe down here.

Wasn't he?

Wasn't he? The Company had great wizards supporting it. They would not let the
castle do anything. ... A mighty hammer blow threw stuff around the north slope.

He could not see what was happening, but instantly sensed that the castle had
struck at someone. Possibly that Croaker, who was up there keeping the place
isolated. Maybe the castle was trying to open the road.

Crowd yammer directed his attention to two dots dropping from the blue. Fire
enveloped the castle. Obsidian shifted form, writhing, then found its normal
shape again. The flying attackers soared, turned. Another pair of balls hurtled
in, apparently thrown from Duretile. And down came the carpet riders.

Shed knew who they were and what was happening, and he was terrified. Around
him, the Buskin, taken unawares, went berserk.

He retained the presence of mind to consider his own position. Here, there,

members of the Black Company were running for battle stations. Squads formed up.

hurried off. Pairs of soldiers took stations apparently assigned against times
when rioting and looting looked possible. Nowhere did Shed see anyone
identifiable as his babysitter.

He slipped back inside the Lily, upstairs, into his room, dug into his secret
place. He stuffed gold and silver into his pockets, dithered over his amulet,

then hung it around his neck, under his clothing. He scanned the room once, saw
nothing else he wanted to take, hurried back downstairs. There was no one in the
common room but Sal, who stood at the door watching the display on the north
slope. He'd never seen her more homebody and calm.

“Sal.”

“Marron? Is it time?”

“Yes. I'm leaving twenty leva in the box. You'll do fine as long as the soldiers
keep coming in.”

“Is that up there what's been going on?”

“That's where it's been headed. It'll probably get worse. They're here to
destroy the castle. If they can.”

“Where are you going?”

“I don't know.” He honestly did not. “Wouldn't tell you if I did. They would
find out from you.”

“When will you be back?”

“Maybe never. Certainly not before they pull out.” He doubted the Company ever
would. Or, if it did, it would be replaced. Its Lady seemed the type not to turn
loose of anything.

He gave Sal a peck on the cheek. “Take care. And don't short yourself or the
kids. If Lisa turns up, tell her she's fired. If Wally does, tell him I forgive
him.”

He headed for the back door. The flash and roar on the slope continued. At one
point there was a howling which fluttered toward Duretile, but it broke up
somewhere over the Enclosure. He put his head down and his collar up and
followed alleyways toward the waterfront.

Only twice did he encounter patrols. Neither boasted a man who knew him. The
first ignored him. The corporal commanding the second told him to get his ass
off the street and went on.

From Wharf Street he could see the black castle once more, through the masts and
stays of countless ships. It seemed to have gotten the worst of the exchange,

which had died away. Thick, black smoke boiled out of the fortress, an oily
column leaning a few degrees and rising thousands of feet, then spreading in a
dark haze. On the slopes below the castle there was a twinkling and seething, an
anthill-like suggestion of movement. He supposed the Company was hurrying into
action.

The waterfront was in a frenzy. The channel boasted a dozen vessels heading out.

Every other foreign ship was preparing to sail. The river itself seemed
strangely disturbed and choppy.

Shed tried three ships before he found one where money talked loudly enough to
be heard. He paid ten leva to a piratical purser and found himself a spot where
he would not be seen from shore.

Nevertheless, as the crew were casting off, the man called Pawnbroker came
racing along the pier with a squad of soldiers, shouting at the ship's master to
hold fast.