old people.
The tall being would not advance his offer for the youth. But the dying man was
negotiable.
Shed watched the tall being count out coins at the feet of the corpses. That was
a damned fortune! Two hundred twenty pieces of silver! With that he could tear
the Lily down and build a new place. He could get out of the Buskin altogether.
Raven scooped the coins into his coat pocket. He gave Shed five. “That's all?”
“Isn't that a good night's work?”
It was a good month's work, and then some. But to get only five of. ...
“Last time we were partners,” Raven said, swinging onto the driver's seat.
“Maybe we will be again. But tonight you're a hired hand. Understand?” There was
a hard edge to his voice. Shed nodded, beset by new fears.
Raven backed the wagon. Shed felt a sudden chill. That archway was hot as hell.
He shuddered, feeling the hunger of the thing watching them.
Dark, glassy, jointless stone slid past. “My god!” He could see into the wall.
He saw bones, fragments of bones, bodies, pieces of bodies, all suspended as if
floating in the night. As Raven turned toward the gate, he saw a staring face.
“What kind of place is this?”
“I don't know, Shed. I don't want to know. All I care is, they pay good money. I
need it. I have a long way to go.”
Black Company N 2 - Shadows Linger
Chapter Twelve:
THE BARROWLAND
The Taken called the Limper met the Company at Frost. We'd spent a hundred and
forty-six days on the march. They were long days and hard, grinding, men and
animals going on more by habit than desire. An outfit in good shape, like ours,
is capable of covering fifty or even a hundred miles in a day, pushing hell out
of it, but not day after week after month, upon incredibly miserable roads. A
smart commander does not push on a long march. The days add up, each leaving its
residue of fatigue, till men begin collapsing if the pace is too desperate.
Considering the territories we crossed, we made damned good time. Between Tome
and Frost lie mountains where we were lucky to make five miles a day, deserts we
had to wander in search of water, rivers that took days to cross using makeshift
rafts. We were fortunate to reach Frost having lost only two men.
The Captain shone with a glow of accomplishment-till the military governor
summoned him.
He assembled the officers and senior noncoms when he returned. “Bad news,” he
told us. “The Lady is sending the Limper to lead us across the Plain of Fear. Us
and the caravan we'll escort.”
Our response was surly. There was bad blood between the Company and the Limper.
Elmo asked, “How soon will we leave, sir?” We needed rest. None had been
promised, of course, and the Lady and the Taken seem unconscious of human
frailties, but still. . . .
“No time specified. Don't get lazy. He's not here now, but he could turn up
tomorrow.”
Sure. With the flying carpets the Taken use, they can turn up anywhere within
days. I muttered, “Let's hope other business keeps him away a while.”
I did not want to encounter him again. We had done him wrong, frequently, way
back. Before Charm we worked closely with a Taken called Soulcatcher. Catcher
used us in several schemes to discredit Limper, both out of old enmity and
because Catcher was secretly working on behalf of the Dominator. The Lady was
taken in. She nearly destroyed the Limper, but rehabilitated him instead, and
brought him back for the final battle.
Way, way back, when the Domination was aborning, centuries before the foundation
of the Lady's empire, the Dominator overpowered his greatest rivals and
compelled them into his service. He accumulated ten villains that way, soon
known as the Ten Who Were Taken. When the White Rose raised the world against
the Dominator's wickedness, the Ten were buried with him. She could destroy none
of them outright.
Centuries of peace sapped the will of the world to guard itself. A
The tall being would not advance his offer for the youth. But the dying man was
negotiable.
Shed watched the tall being count out coins at the feet of the corpses. That was
a damned fortune! Two hundred twenty pieces of silver! With that he could tear
the Lily down and build a new place. He could get out of the Buskin altogether.
Raven scooped the coins into his coat pocket. He gave Shed five. “That's all?”
“Isn't that a good night's work?”
It was a good month's work, and then some. But to get only five of. ...
“Last time we were partners,” Raven said, swinging onto the driver's seat.
“Maybe we will be again. But tonight you're a hired hand. Understand?” There was
a hard edge to his voice. Shed nodded, beset by new fears.
Raven backed the wagon. Shed felt a sudden chill. That archway was hot as hell.
He shuddered, feeling the hunger of the thing watching them.
Dark, glassy, jointless stone slid past. “My god!” He could see into the wall.
He saw bones, fragments of bones, bodies, pieces of bodies, all suspended as if
floating in the night. As Raven turned toward the gate, he saw a staring face.
“What kind of place is this?”
“I don't know, Shed. I don't want to know. All I care is, they pay good money. I
need it. I have a long way to go.”
Black Company N 2 - Shadows Linger
Chapter Twelve:
THE BARROWLAND
The Taken called the Limper met the Company at Frost. We'd spent a hundred and
forty-six days on the march. They were long days and hard, grinding, men and
animals going on more by habit than desire. An outfit in good shape, like ours,
is capable of covering fifty or even a hundred miles in a day, pushing hell out
of it, but not day after week after month, upon incredibly miserable roads. A
smart commander does not push on a long march. The days add up, each leaving its
residue of fatigue, till men begin collapsing if the pace is too desperate.
Considering the territories we crossed, we made damned good time. Between Tome
and Frost lie mountains where we were lucky to make five miles a day, deserts we
had to wander in search of water, rivers that took days to cross using makeshift
rafts. We were fortunate to reach Frost having lost only two men.
The Captain shone with a glow of accomplishment-till the military governor
summoned him.
He assembled the officers and senior noncoms when he returned. “Bad news,” he
told us. “The Lady is sending the Limper to lead us across the Plain of Fear. Us
and the caravan we'll escort.”
Our response was surly. There was bad blood between the Company and the Limper.
Elmo asked, “How soon will we leave, sir?” We needed rest. None had been
promised, of course, and the Lady and the Taken seem unconscious of human
frailties, but still. . . .
“No time specified. Don't get lazy. He's not here now, but he could turn up
tomorrow.”
Sure. With the flying carpets the Taken use, they can turn up anywhere within
days. I muttered, “Let's hope other business keeps him away a while.”
I did not want to encounter him again. We had done him wrong, frequently, way
back. Before Charm we worked closely with a Taken called Soulcatcher. Catcher
used us in several schemes to discredit Limper, both out of old enmity and
because Catcher was secretly working on behalf of the Dominator. The Lady was
taken in. She nearly destroyed the Limper, but rehabilitated him instead, and
brought him back for the final battle.
Way, way back, when the Domination was aborning, centuries before the foundation
of the Lady's empire, the Dominator overpowered his greatest rivals and
compelled them into his service. He accumulated ten villains that way, soon
known as the Ten Who Were Taken. When the White Rose raised the world against
the Dominator's wickedness, the Ten were buried with him. She could destroy none
of them outright.
Centuries of peace sapped the will of the world to guard itself. A
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