The Books of the South: Tales of the Black Company (Chronicles of the Black Company) (45 page)

She looked at Narayan intently, maybe because of his unusual name and the fact that I’d added no other. I didn’t know any other name for him. Narayan was a patronym. We had six more Narayans among the Shadar troops. Every one of them carried the personal name Singh, which means Lion.

She caught something with that closer look, started slightly, glanced at Smoke. The wizard replied with a tiny nod. She looked at Blade. “You choose to leave me?”

“I’m going with somebody who can get something done besides talk.”

That was a long speech for Blade and one that won him no sympathy. The Radisha glared.

“He’s got a point,” Swan said. “You and your brother just keep fiddling.”

“We’re more exposed.” People in positions like theirs do have to act within constraints or get pulled down. But try to explain that to men who have never been anything but momentary captains and didn’t want that power when they had it.

The Radisha rose. “Come,” she told us. As we walked, she told me, “I
am
pleased that you survived. Though you may find it difficult to continue doing so.”

That didn’t sound like a threat, exactly. “What?”

“You’re in a difficult position because your Captain didn’t survive.” She led us up a spiral stair to the parapet of the fortress’s tallest tower. My companions were as puzzled as I. The Radisha pointed.

Beyond the trees and construction across the river there was a large, ragtag encampment. The Radisha said, “Some fugitives crossed elsewhere and carried word north. People started arriving the day after Swan rode south. There are about two thousand already. There’ll be thousands more.”

“Who are they?” Swan asked.

“Families of legionnaires. Families of men the Shadowmasters enslaved. They’ve come to find out what happened to their menfolk.” She pointed upstream.

Scores of women were stacking wood. I asked, “What are they doing?”

“Building ghats.” Narayan sounded nonplussed. “I should have considered that.”

“What are ghats?”

“Funeral pyres,” Mather said. “The Gunni burn their dead instead of burying them.” He looked a little green.

I didn’t follow. “There aren’t any dead here. Unless somebody makes some.” A symbolic gesture? Funerals in absentia?

“The practice is called suttee,” Smoke said. I looked at him. He stood straight up and wore a slimy grin. “When a man dies his wife joins him on his ghat. If he dies away from home she joins him in death when she learns of it.”

Oh? “Those women are building pyres where they can commit suicide if their husbands have been killed?”

“Yes.”

“A damnfool thing to do.”

Smoke’s smile grew. “It’s a custom as old as Taglios. With the force of law.”

I didn’t like the way he was getting happy. He thought he had a tool to use against me.

“A waste. Who takes care of the children? Never mind. I don’t care.” The concept was so alien I discounted it. I’m not sure I even believed him.

The Radisha said, “The custom is revered by everyone, even those who aren’t Gunni.”

“There are crazies everywhere. It’s a hideous practice. It should be abolished. But I’m not here to change any social sillinesses. We’re at war. We’ve suffered a setback. A lot of our men are trapped in Dejagore. It’s not likely we can save them. More are in flight. We
can
save some of those. And we have to raise new levies so we can cling to what we’ve gained.”

Swan said, “Sweetie, you’re missing the point.”

“I got the point, Swan. It’s irrelevant.”

The Radisha said, “You’re a woman. You have no friends. Every man of any substance in every priesthood is going to make a point of your relationship with your Captain. A large point of your failure to commit suttee. That will weigh heavily with a large portion of the population.”

“It may be the custom. It’s an idiot custom and I’ll bet it’s not universal. I shan’t dignify the suggestion—unless I decide that for bringing it up the suggester will be delivered to his suggestion.”

Smoke’s grin faded.

His eyes narrowed and clouded. His jaw dropped for a second. He was staring at my hand. I realized I’d picked up Narayan’s tic, was fingering the bit of yellow cloth peeping from my waist.

Smoke’s color turned ghastly.

I said, “Radisha, ask these two about my background.” I indicated Swan and Mather. They’d emigrated from my empire while I was at the pinnacle of my power. “Some of the Company have fallen but our contract remains in force. I intend to execute the undertaking.”

“Admirable. But you’ll find that a lot of people won’t want to let you do that.”

I shrugged. “What they want doesn’t matter. The contract has been made. Better understand that. You people think you know more about us than we do. You must know we don’t let anybody back out on a contract.”

The Radisha looked at me intently, unafraid, curious about my confident attitude here alone in a sea of enemies.

I said, “I’ll present a list of needs tomorrow. Manpower, drayage, animals, weapons, equipment.” Half of confidence is the appearance of confidence.

Somebody shouted from the stairwell. The Radisha signalled Mather, who checked it. He came back, said, “Jah’s kicking up a fuss. Wants to see you. Guess that means he knows you’re here.”

I said, “Might as well meet him head on.”

“Tell them to bring him, Mather.”

Mather passed the word. We waited. The Radisha and I eyed one another like she-leopards. I asked, “Why are you afraid of the Company?”

She didn’t bat an eye. “You know quite well.”

“I do? I’ve studied the history of the Company in detail. I don’t recall anything that would explain your attitude.”

Smoke whispered something. I think he accused me of lying. I was developing an intense dislike for him.

Jahamaraj Jah swept in like a king.

I was curious to see how the Radisha handled the handicap of her sex.

In a moment I was curious to see how Jah handled
his
handicap. He had made his entrance dramatically. He had looked us over. We hadn’t responded to the gloriousness of his size, his wealthy apparel, the power he represented. Now he didn’t know what to do next.

He was a fool. Croaker hadn’t quite erred in ridding the Shadar of his predecessor. That man had been our enemy. But Jah wasn’t much of an improvement. He was all appearance without substance.

He was impressive for a Taglian, six feet and two hundred pounds, half a foot taller than average and much more massive. His skin was fairer than most—a desirable trait from the Taglian perspective. Wealthy women often spent their entire lives hiding from the sun. He was handsome even by northern standards. But his mouth was petulant and his eyes gave the impression he was a moment short of breaking into tears because he wasn’t getting his own way.

The Radisha gave him ten seconds, snapped, “You have something to say?”

Indecision. He was surrounded by people who had no use for him. Several would have cut his throat happily. Even Smoke found the nerve to look at him like he was a slug.

I said, “Caught by a jury of your enemies. I’d thought you were better at the game.”

“What game?” He wasn’t good at concealing his feelings. What he thought of me came through.

“Intrigue. That was a poor move, running at Dejagore. Everybody will blame you.”

“Hardly. The battle was lost. I made sure a force survived.”

“You ran out before it was decided. Your own men say so,” the Radisha snapped. “If you give us any grief we’ll remind the families of those men who aren’t coming home.”

Pure hatred. Jah wasn’t used to being thwarted. “I’m not accustomed to being threatened. I don’t tolerate it from anyone.”

I asked, “Do you recall how you came to power? People might be interested in the details.”

Among them, everyone there. The others stared, wondering. “You’d be wise to go quietly, abandon the pursuit of arms and power, and content yourself with what you have.”

He glared daggers.

“You’re vulnerable. You can’t erase that. You’ve made too many poor choices. Keep it up and you’ll destroy yourself.”

He looked at us, found no sympathy anywhere. His only weapon was bluster. He knew what that was worth. “This round to you.” He headed downstairs.

Blade laughed.

He did it knowing Jah couldn’t tolerate being mocked.

Blade
wanted
trouble.

I sent him a warning look. He stared back impassively. He wasn’t intimidated by anyone.

Jah was gone. I said, “I have work to do. We aren’t accomplishing anything. We know where we stand. I expect to finish the Company’s work. You intend to let that go only as far as it conveniences you, then you plan to backstab me. I don’t plan to let you. Blade. You coming or staying?”

“Coming. There’s nothing here for me.”

Swan and Mather looked croggled, Smoke pained, and the Radisha exasperated.

As soon as we left the fortress, Blade said, “Jah could try something desperate now.”

“I’ll handle it. He’ll vacillate till it’s too late. Check on your battalion.” Once he was out of hearing, I told Narayan, “He’s right. Do we wait for Jah? Or do we move first?”

He didn’t respond, just waited for me to answer myself.

“We’ll do something when we know he’s planning something himself.”

I surveyed the camp. The outer enclosure was complete. It would do for the moment. I’d keep making improvements, mainly to keep the men occupied. A wall can never be too high or a ditch too deep.

“I want the Shadar to know I need cavalrymen. Their response will show us what support Jah has. Pass the word amongst all the fugitives that those who join voluntarily will get preferential treatment. We need volunteers from the provinces, too. We need to spread our story before these idiots unleash the hounds of factionalism.”

“There are ways to get word out,” Narayan admitted. “But we’ll have to send some of my friends across the river.”

“Do what you have to. Starting now. We don’t mark time. We don’t let them catch their balance. Go.”

I climbed a platform that had been erected near what would become the camp’s north gate, surveyed the countryside. My men were as busy as ants.

Their industry hadn’t communicated itself to anyone else. Only the builders across the river, and the Gunni women, were doing much.

Smoke curled up from one of the ghats. When the flames were roaring a woman threw herself in.

I had to believe it now.

I retired to the shelter Ram had built, settled to stretch the limits of my talent. I’d be needing it soon.

18

The dreams worsened. They were dreams of death.

We all have nightmares but I’d never recalled so many so clearly after I wakened. Some force, some power, was summoning me. Was trying to enlist or subject me.

Those dreams were the creations of a sick mind. If they were supposed to appeal to me, that power didn’t know me.

Landscapes of despair and death under skies of lead, fields where bodies rotted and stunted vegetation melted down like slow, soft candlewax. Slime covered everything, hung in strands like the architecture of drunken spiders.

Mad. Mad. Mad. And not a touch of color anywhere.

Mad. And yet with its taint of perverse appeal. For amongst the dead I’d see faces I wished amongst the dead. I strode that land unharmed, vitally alive, its ruler. The ghouls that ran with me were extensions of my will.

It was a dream straight out of the fantasies of my dead husband. It was a world he could have made home.

Always, in the late hours, there’d be a dawn in that land of nightmare, a splash of color on a poorly defined horizon. Always in front of me, it seemed the dawn of hope.

Simple and direct, the architect of my dreams.

There was one dream, less common, that did without the death and corruption, yet was as chilling in its way. Black and white too, it placed me upon a plain of stone where deadly shadows lurked behind countless obelisks. I didn’t understand it at all but it frightened me.

I couldn’t control the dreams. But I refused to let them influence my waking hours, refused to let them wear me down.

*   *   *

“I’ve sent word out, Mistress,” Narayan said, responding to my question about recruits. We fenced whenever the subject of his brotherhood arose. He wasn’t yet ready to talk.

Blade suggested, “Someone ought to be watching things at Dejagore.” I understood, though sometimes his brevity caused problems.

Narayan said, “Ghopal and Hakim can take a party down. Twenty men should have no trouble. It’ll be quiet now.”

I said, “You had them spying on our neighbors.”

“They’re done. They’ve made their contacts. Sindhu can take over. He has a higher reputation.”

Another of those little oddities about Narayan and his cronies. They had their own hidden caste system. Based on what, I couldn’t tell. Narayan was the man of most respect here. Broad, stolid Sindhu ran a close second.

“Send them. If we have spies everywhere why haven’t I gotten any information?”

“There’s nothing to report that isn’t common knowledge. Except that there’s a lot of disaffection among Jah’s men. A third might defect if you offered to enlist them. Jah’s been doing some talking about you ignoring your duties as a wife because you won’t commit suttee or go into isolation, as befits a Shadar woman. He’s working on a dozen schemes but none of our friends are in his closest councils.”

“Kill him,” Blade said. And Sindhu nodded.

“Why?” A political victory would be better, long range.

“You don’t let the serpent strike if you know where he lies in wait. You destroy him.”

A simplistic solution with a certain appeal. It could have a big impact if we took him out where he seemed least vulnerable. And at the moment I didn’t feel patient enough to spin out a long game. “Agreed. But with finesse. Do we have good enough friends over there to let us sneak into camp?”

“Close enough,” Narayan admitted. “There’d be a question of timing. So the friends would be on duty.”

“Set it up. What about other enemies? Jah is just the most obvious because he’s right here. There’ll be more in the north.”