Shadows Linger Read online

  Tension mounted. I felt like one of a flock of chickens poised to scatter the moment a fox landed among us. I tried to bleed off my shakiness by updating the Annals. I had let them slide sadly, seldom having done more than keep notes.

  When the tension became too much for me, I walked uphill to stare at the black castle.

  It was an intentional risk-taking, like that of a child who crawls out a tree branch overhanging a deadly fall. The closer I approached the castle, the more narrow my concentration. At two hundred yards all other cares vanished. I felt the dread of that place down to my ankle bones and the shallows of my soul. At two hundred yards I felt what it meant to have the shadow of the Dominator overhanging the world. I felt what the Lady felt when she considered her husband’s potential resurrection. Every emotion be-came edged with a hint of despair. In a way, the black castle was more than a gateway “through which the world’s great old evil might reappear. It was a concretization of metaphorical concepts, and a living symbol. It did things a great cathedral does. Like a cathedral, it was far more than an edifice.

  I could stare at its obsidian walls and grotesque decoration, recall Shed’s stories, and never avoid dipping into the cesspool of my own soul, never avoid searching myself for the essential decency shelved through most of my adult life. That castle was, if you like, a moral landmark. If you had a brain. If you had any sensitivity at all.

  There were times when One-Eye, Goblin, Elmo or another of the men accompanied me. Not one of them went away untouched. They could stand there with me, talking trivialities about its construction or, weightily, about its significance in the Company’s future, and all the while something would be happening inside.

  I do not believe in evil absolute. I have recounted that philosophy in specific elsewhere in the Annals, and it affects my every observation throughout my tenure as Annalist. I believe in our side and theirs, with the good and evil decided after the fact, by those who survive. Among men you seldom find the good with one standard and the shadow with another. In our war with the Rebel, eight and nine years ago, we served the side perceived as the shadow. Yet we saw far more wickedness practiced by the adherents of the White Rose than by those of the Lady. The villains of the piece were at least straightforward.

  The world knows where it stands with the Lady. It is the Rebel whose ideals and morals conflict with fact, becoming as changeable as the weather and as flexible as a snake.

  But I digress. The black castle has that effect. Makes you amble off into all the byways and cul-de-sacs and false trails you have laid down during your life. It makes you reassess. Makes you want to take a stand somewhere, even if on the black side. Leaves you impatient with your own malleable morality.

  I suspect that is why Juniper decided to pretend the place did not exist. It is an absolute demanding absolutes in a world with a preference for relatives.

  Darling was in my thoughts often while I stood below those black, glossy walls, for she was the castle’s antipode when I was up there. The white pole, and absolute in opposition to what the black castle symbolized. I had not been much in her presence since realizing what she was, but I could recall being morally unnerved by her, too. I wondered how she would affect me now, after having had years to grow.

  From what Shed said, she did not reek the way the castle did. His main interest in her had been hustling her upstairs. And Raven had not been driven into puritanical channels. If anything, he had slipped farther into the darkness-though for the highest of motives.

  Possibly there was a message there. An observation upon means to ends. Here was Raven who had acted with the pragmatic amorality of a prince of Hell, all so he could save the child who represented the best hope of the world against the Lady and the Dominator.

  Oh, ‘twould be marvelous if the world and its moral questions were like some game board, with plain black players and white, and fixed rules, and nary a shade of grey.

  Even Asa and Shed could be made to feel the aura of the castle if you took them up during the daytime and made them stand there looking at those fell walls.

  Shed especially.

  Shed had achieved a position where he could afford conscience and uncertainty. I mean, he had none of the financial troubles that had plagued him earlier, and no prospect of digging himself a hole with us watching him, so he could reflect upon his place in things and become disgusted with himself. More than once I took him up and watched as that deep spark of hidden decency flared, twisted him upon a rack of inner torment.

  I do not know how Elmo did it. Maybe he went without sleep for a few weeks. But when the Company came down out of the Wolanders, he had an occupation plan prepared. It was crude, to be sure, but better than any of us expected.

  I was in the Buskin, at Shed’s Iron Lily, when the first rumors raged down the waterfront and stirred one of the most massive states of confusion I’ve ever seen. Shed’s wood-seller neighbor swept into the Lily, announced, “There’s an army coming down out of the pass! Foreigners! Thousands of them! They say....”

  During the following hour a dozen patrons brought the news. Each time the army was larger and its purpose more obscure. Nobody knew what the Company wanted. Various witnesses assigned motives according to their own fears. Few came anywhere near the mark.

  Though the men were weary after so long a march, they spread through the city quickly, the larger units guided by Elmo’s men. Candy brought a reinforced company into the Buskin. The worst slums are always the first site of rebellion, we’ve found. There were few violent confrontations. Juniper’s citizens were taken by surprise and had no idea what to fight about anyway. Most just turned out to watch.

  I got myself back up to my squad. This was the time the Taken would do their deed. If they planned anything.

  Nothing happened. As I might have guessed, knowing that men from our forerunner party were guiding the new arrivals. Indeed, nobody got in touch with me, up there, for another two days. By then the city was pacified. Every key point was in our hands. Every state building, every arsenal, every strong point, even the Custodians’ headquarters in the Enclosure. And life went on as usual. What little trouble there was came when Rebel refugees tried to start an uprising, accurately accusing the Duke of having brought the Lady to Juniper.

  The people of Juniper didn’t much care.

  There were problems in the Buskin, though. Elmo wanted to straighten the slum out. Some of the slum dwellers

  didn’t want to be straightened. He used Candy’s company forcefully, cracking the organizations of the crime bosses. I did not see the necessity, but wiser heads feared the gangs could become the focus of future resistance. Anything with that potential had to be squashed immediately. I think there was a hope the move would win popular favor, too.

  Elmo brought the Lieutenant to my hillside shack the third day after the Company’s arrival. “How goes it?” I asked. The Lieutenant had aged terribly since I had seen him last. The passage westward had been grim.

  “City’s secure,” he said. “Stinking dump, isn’t it?”

  “Better believe. It’s all snake’s belly. What’s up?”

  Elmo said, “He needs a look at the target.”

  I lifted an eyebrow.

  The Lieutenant said, “The Limper says we’re going to take this place. I don’t know how soon. Captain wants me to look it over.”

  “Fun times tomorrow,” I muttered. “Ain’t going to grab it on the sneak.” I donned my coat. It was chilly up on the slopes. Elmo and One-Eye tagged along when I took the Lieutenant up. He eyeballed the castle, deep in thought. Finally, he said, “I don’t like it. Not even a little bit.” He felt the cold dread of the place.

  “I got a man who’s been inside,” I said. “But don’t let the Taken know. He’s supposed to be dead.”

  “What can he tell me?”

  “Not much. He’s only been there at night, in a court behind the gate.”

  “Uhm. The Taken have a girl up at Duretile, too. I talked to her. She couldn�
��t tell me nothing. Only in there once, and was too scared to look around.”

  “She’s still alive?”

  “Yeah. That’s the one you caught? Yeah. She’s alive. Lady’s orders, apparently. Nasty little witch. Let’s hike around it.”

  We got onto the far slope, where the going was rough, to the accompaniment of constant crabbing by One-Eye. The Lieutenant stated the obvious. “No getting at it from here. Not without help from the Taken.”

  “Going to take a big lot of help to get at it from any direction.”

  He looked me a question.

  I told him about Feather’s troubles the night we took Shed and his barmaid.

  “Anything since?”

  “Nope. Not before, either. My man who’s been inside never saw anything extraordinary, either. But, dammit, the thing connects with the Barrowland. It’s got the Dominator behind it. You know it’s not going to be a pushover. They know there’s trouble out here.”

  One-Eye made a squeaking sound. “What?” the Lieutenant snapped.

  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.

  Chapter Thirty-Four: 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.