Was she all
right?”
“All I saw really was a bundle that Singh carried. I think it was her.”
“Had to be. He never lets her out of his sight.” He pretended he did not care.
“Bring them to the Palace.” That chill hit me again. “I’ll make sure the guards
know you’re coming.”
Thai Dei and I exchanged looks. This might get tough. People in the streets
would recognize the prisoners. And the prisoners might have friends. And for
sure they did have enemies by the thousand. They might not survive the trip. Or
we might not.
The Old Man said, “Tell your wife I said hello and I hope she likes the new
apartment.”
“Sure.” I shivered. Thai Dei frowned at me.
Croaker produced a sheaf of papers rolled into a tube. “This came in from Lady
while you were gone. It’s for the Annals.”
“Someone must have died.”
He grinned. “Bang it around and fit it in. But don’t polish it so much she gets
all righteous again. I can’t stand it when she flays me with my own arguments.”
“I learned the first time.”
“One-Eye says he thinks he knows where he left his papers from when he thought
he was going to have to keep the Annals.”
“I’ve heard that one before.”
Croaker grinned again, then ducked out.
Black Company GS 6 - Black Seasons
16
Four hundred men and five elephants swarmed around an incomplete stockade. The
nearest friendly outpost lay a hard day’s march northward. Shovels gnawed the
earth. Hammers pounded. Elephants swung timbers off wagons and helped set them
upright. Only the oxen stood around, lazing in their harnesses.
This nameless post was barely a day old, the newest point in the relentless
Taglian leapfrog into the Shadowlands. Only its watchtower was complete. The
lookout there scanned the southern horizon intently. There was an electric
urgency in the air, a heaviness like the smell of old death, a premonition.
The soldiers were all veterans. Not a one considered fleeing his nerves. Each
had developed the habit and expectation of victory.
The sentinel began to gaze fixedly. “Captain!”
A man distinct for his coloring dropped a shovel, looked up. His true name was
Cato Dahlia. The Black Company called him Big Bucket. Wanted for common theft in
his home city, he had become advisor commander of a battalion of Taglian border
rangers. He was a hardass leader with a reputation for getting his jobs done and
bringing his people back alive.
Bucket scrambled onto the observation platform, puffing. “What have you got?”
The lookout pointed. Bucket squinted. “Help me out here, son. These eyes ain’t
what they used to be.” He could see nothing but the low humped backs of the
Loghra Hills. Scattered clouds hung above those.
“Watch.”
Bucket trusted his soldiers. He selected them carefully. He watched.
One small cloud hung lower than the others, dragging a slanting shadow. This
rogue thunderhead did not travel the same direction as the rest of its family.
“Headed right for us?”
“Looks like it, sir.”
Bucket relied on his intuition. It had served him well during this war without
major battles. And intuition told him that cloud was dangerous.
He descended, spread word to expect an attack. The men of the construction
company, although not combat soldiers, did not want to withdraw. Sometimes
Bucket’s reputation worked against him. His rangers had prospered, freebooting
across the frontier. Others wanted a share.
Bucket compromised. He sent one platoon north with the animals, which were too
valuable to risk. The other workers stayed. They overturned their wagons in the
gaps in the stockade.
The cloud advanced steadily. Nothing could be seen inside its shadow and tail of
falling rain. A chill ran before it. The Taglian soldiers shivered and pranced
to keep warm.
Two hundred yards beyond the ditch, teams of two men shivered in covered,
concealed pits lighted by special candles. One man
right?”
“All I saw really was a bundle that Singh carried. I think it was her.”
“Had to be. He never lets her out of his sight.” He pretended he did not care.
“Bring them to the Palace.” That chill hit me again. “I’ll make sure the guards
know you’re coming.”
Thai Dei and I exchanged looks. This might get tough. People in the streets
would recognize the prisoners. And the prisoners might have friends. And for
sure they did have enemies by the thousand. They might not survive the trip. Or
we might not.
The Old Man said, “Tell your wife I said hello and I hope she likes the new
apartment.”
“Sure.” I shivered. Thai Dei frowned at me.
Croaker produced a sheaf of papers rolled into a tube. “This came in from Lady
while you were gone. It’s for the Annals.”
“Someone must have died.”
He grinned. “Bang it around and fit it in. But don’t polish it so much she gets
all righteous again. I can’t stand it when she flays me with my own arguments.”
“I learned the first time.”
“One-Eye says he thinks he knows where he left his papers from when he thought
he was going to have to keep the Annals.”
“I’ve heard that one before.”
Croaker grinned again, then ducked out.
Black Company GS 6 - Black Seasons
16
Four hundred men and five elephants swarmed around an incomplete stockade. The
nearest friendly outpost lay a hard day’s march northward. Shovels gnawed the
earth. Hammers pounded. Elephants swung timbers off wagons and helped set them
upright. Only the oxen stood around, lazing in their harnesses.
This nameless post was barely a day old, the newest point in the relentless
Taglian leapfrog into the Shadowlands. Only its watchtower was complete. The
lookout there scanned the southern horizon intently. There was an electric
urgency in the air, a heaviness like the smell of old death, a premonition.
The soldiers were all veterans. Not a one considered fleeing his nerves. Each
had developed the habit and expectation of victory.
The sentinel began to gaze fixedly. “Captain!”
A man distinct for his coloring dropped a shovel, looked up. His true name was
Cato Dahlia. The Black Company called him Big Bucket. Wanted for common theft in
his home city, he had become advisor commander of a battalion of Taglian border
rangers. He was a hardass leader with a reputation for getting his jobs done and
bringing his people back alive.
Bucket scrambled onto the observation platform, puffing. “What have you got?”
The lookout pointed. Bucket squinted. “Help me out here, son. These eyes ain’t
what they used to be.” He could see nothing but the low humped backs of the
Loghra Hills. Scattered clouds hung above those.
“Watch.”
Bucket trusted his soldiers. He selected them carefully. He watched.
One small cloud hung lower than the others, dragging a slanting shadow. This
rogue thunderhead did not travel the same direction as the rest of its family.
“Headed right for us?”
“Looks like it, sir.”
Bucket relied on his intuition. It had served him well during this war without
major battles. And intuition told him that cloud was dangerous.
He descended, spread word to expect an attack. The men of the construction
company, although not combat soldiers, did not want to withdraw. Sometimes
Bucket’s reputation worked against him. His rangers had prospered, freebooting
across the frontier. Others wanted a share.
Bucket compromised. He sent one platoon north with the animals, which were too
valuable to risk. The other workers stayed. They overturned their wagons in the
gaps in the stockade.
The cloud advanced steadily. Nothing could be seen inside its shadow and tail of
falling rain. A chill ran before it. The Taglian soldiers shivered and pranced
to keep warm.
Two hundred yards beyond the ditch, teams of two men shivered in covered,
concealed pits lighted by special candles. One man
Similar Books
