Chronicles of the Black Company Page 8

  I exchanged glances with One-Eye, who was putting his broth together using this and that from a black bag of his own. “Looks like Cornie knows our crowd,” I said.

  “Know you well enough to know you don’t want nobody getting away with nothing like this.”

  I looked at Elmo. Elmo stared at Cornie. There always was some doubt about the stablekeeper. Cornie got nervous. Elmo, like any veteran sergeant, has a baleful stare. Finally, “One-Eye, take this fellow for a walk. Get his story.”

  One-Eye had Cornie under hypnosis in seconds. The two of them roamed around chatting like old buddies.

  I shifted my attention to Candy. “That man in the shadows. Did he limp?”

  “Wasn’t the Limper. Too tall.”

  “Even so, the attack would have had the spook’s blessing. Right, Elmo?”

  Elmo nodded. “Soulcatcher would get severely pissed if he figured it out. The okay to risk that had to come from the top.”

  Something like a sigh came out of Raven. I looked down. His eyes were open a crack. He repeated the sound. I put my ear next to his lips. “Zouad …” he murmured.

  Zouad. The infamous Colonel Zouad. The enemy he had renounced. The Limper’s special villain. Raven’s knight-errantry had generated vicious repercussions.

  I told Elmo. He did not seem surprised. Maybe the Captain had passed Raven’s history on to his platoon leaders.

  One-Eye came back. He said, “Friend Cornie works for the other team.” He grinned a malific grin, the one he practices so he can scare kids and dogs. “Thought you might want to take that into consideration, Elmo.”

  “Oh, yes.” Elmo seemed delighted.

  I went to work on the man next worse off. More sewing to do. I wondered if I would have enough suture. The patrol was in bad shape. “How long till we get some of that broth, One-Eye?”

  “Still got to come up with a chicken.”

  Elmo grumbled, “So have somebody go steal one.”

  One-Eye said, “The people we want are holed up in a Bleek Street dive. They’ve got some rough friends.”

  “What are you going to do, Elmo?” I asked. I was sure he would do something. Raven had put us under obligation by naming Zouad. He thought he was dying. He would not have named the name otherwise. I knew him that well, if I didn’t know anything about his past.

  “We’ve got to arrange something for the Colonel.”

  “You go looking for trouble, you’re going to find it. Remember who he works for.”

  “Bad business, letting somebody get away with hitting the Company, Croaker. Even the Limper.”

  “That’s taking pretty high policy on your own shoulders, isn’t it?” I could not disagree, though. A defeat on the battlefield is acceptable. This was not the same. This was empire politics. People should be warned that it could get hairy if they dragged us in. The Limper and Soulcatcher had to be shown. I asked Elmo, “What kind of repercussions do you figure on?”

  “One hell of a lot of pissing and moaning. But I don’t reckon there’s much they can do. Hell, Croaker, it ain’t your no nevermind anyway. You get paid to patch guys up.” He stared at Cornie thoughtfully. “I reckon the fewer witnesses left over, the better. The Limper can’t scream if he can’t prove nothing. One-Eye. You go on talking to your pet Rebel there. I got a nasty little idea shaping up in the back of my head. Maybe he has the key.”

  One-Eye finished dishing out his soup. The earliest partakers had more color in their cheeks already. Elmo stopped paring his nails. He skewered the stablekeeper with a hard stare. “Cornie, you ever hear of Colonel Zouad?”

  Cornie stiffened. He hesitated just a second too long. “Can’t say as I have.”

  “That’s odd. Figured you would have. He’s the one they call the Limper’s left hand. Anyway, I figure the Circle would do most anything to lay hands on him. What do you think?”

  “I don’t know nothing about the Circle, Elmo.” He gazed out over the rooftops. “You telling me this fellow over to Bleek is this Zouad?”

  Elmo chuckled. “Didn’t say that at all, Cornie. Did I give that impression, Croaker?”

  “Hell no. What would Zouad be doing hanging around a crummy whorehouse in Oar? The Limper is up to his butt in trouble over east. He’d want all the help he could get.”

  “See, Cornie? But look here. Maybe I do know where the Circle could find the Colonel. Now, him and the Company ain’t no friends. On the other hand, we ain’t friends with the Circle, neither. But that’s business. No hard feelings. So I was thinking. Maybe we could trade a favor for a favor. Maybe some big-time Rebel could drop by that place in Bleek Street and tell the owners he don’t think they ought to be looking out for those guys. You see what I mean? If it was to go that way, Colonel Zouad just might drop into the Circle’s lap.”

  Cornie got the look of a man who knows he is trapped.

  He had been a good spy when we had had no reason to worry about him. He had been just plain old Cornie, friendly stablekeeper, whom we had tipped a little extra and talked around no more nor less than anyone else outside the Company. He had been under no pressure. He hadn’t had to be anything but himself.

  “You got me all wrong, Elmo. Honest. I don’t never get involved in politics. The Lady or the Whites, it’s all the same to me. Horses need feeding and stabling no matter who rides them.”

  “Reckon you’re right there, Cornie. Excuse me for being suspicious.” Elmo winked at One-Eye.

  “That’s the Amador where those fellows are staying, Elmo. You better go over there before somebody tells them you’re in town. Me, I’d better start getting this place cleaned up.”

  “We’re in no hurry, Cornie. But you go ahead with whatever you’ve got to do.”

  Cornie eyed us. He went a few steps toward what was left of his stable. He looked us over. Elmo considered him blandly. One-Eye lifted his horse’s left foreleg to check its hoof. Cornie ducked into the ruin. “One-Eye?” Elmo asked.

  “Right on out the back. Heeling and toeing.”

  Elmo grinned. “Keep your eye on him. Croaker, take notes. I want to know who he tells. And who they tell. We gave him something that ought to spread like the clap.”

  Zouad was a dead man from the minute Raven named his name,” I told One-Eye. “Maybe from the minute he did whatever it was back when.”

  One-Eye grunted, discarded. Candy picked up and spread. One-Eye cursed. “I can’t play with these guys, Croaker. They don’t play right.”

  Elmo galloped up the street, dismounted. “They’re moving in on that whorehouse. Got something for me, One-Eye?”

  The list was disappointing. I gave it to Elmo. He cursed, spat, cursed again. He kicked the planks we were using as a card table. “Pay attention to your damned jobs.”

  One-Eye controlled his temper. “They’re not making mistakes, Elmo. They’re covering their asses. Cornie has been around us too long to trust.”

  Elmo stomped around and breathed fire. “All right. Backup plan number one. We watch Zouad. See where they take him after they grab him. We’ll rescue him when he’s about ready to croak, wipe out any Rebels around the place, then hunt down anybody who checked in there.”

  I observed, “You’re determined to show a profit, aren’t you?”

  “Damned straight. How’s Raven?”

  “Looks like he’ll pull through. The infection is under control, and One-Eye says he’s started to heal.”

  “Uhn. One-Eye, I want Rebel names. Lots of names.”

  “Yes sir, boss, sir.” One-Eye produced an exaggerated salute. It became an obscene gesture when Elmo turned away.

  “Push those planks together, Doughbelly,” I suggested. “Your deal, One-Eye.”

  He did not respond. He did not bitch or gripe or threaten to turn me into a newt. He just stood there, numb as death, eye barely cracked.

  “Elmo!”

  Elmo got in front of him and stared from six inches away. He snapped his fingers under One-Eye’s nose. One-Eye did not respond. “Wh
at do you think, Croaker?”

  “Something is happening at that whorehouse.”

  One-Eye did not move a muscle for ten minutes. Then the eye opened, unglazed, and he relaxed like a wet rag. Elmo demanded, “What the hell happened?”

  “Give him a minute, will you?” I snapped.

  One-Eye collected himself. “The Rebel got Zouad, but not before he contacted the Limper.”

  “Uhm?”

  “The spook is coming to help him.”

  Elmo turned a pale shade of grey. “Here? To Oar?”

  “Yep.”

  “Oh, shit.”

  Indeed. The Limper was the nastiest of the Taken. “Think fast, Elmo. He’ll trace our part in it.… Cornie is the cutout link.”

  “One-Eye, you find that old shit. Whitey. Still. Pokey. Got a job for you.” He gave instructions. Pokey grinned and stroked his dagger. Bloodthirsty bastard.

  I cannot adequately portray the unease One-Eye’s news generated. We knew the Limper only through stories, but those stories were always grim. We were scared. Soulcatcher’s patronage was no real protection against another of the Taken.

  Elmo punched me. “He’s doing it again.”

  Sure enough. One-Eye was stiff. But this time he went beyond rigidity. He toppled, began thrashing and foaming at the mouth.

  “Hold him!” I ordered. “Elmo, give me that baton of yours.” A half dozen men piled on One-Eye. Small though he was, he gave them a ride.

  “What for?” Elmo asked.

  “I’ll put it in his mouth so he doesn’t chew his tongue.” One-Eye made the weirdest sounds I’ve ever heard, and I have heard plenty on battlefields. Wounded men make noises you would swear could not come from a human throat.

  The seizure lasted only seconds. After one final, violent surge, One-Eye lapsed into a peaceful slumber.

  “Okay, Croaker. What the hell happened?”

  “I don’t know. The falling sickness?”

  “Give him some of his own soup,” somebody suggested. “Serve him right.” A tin cup appeared. We forced its contents down his throat.

  His eye clicked open. “What are you trying to do? Poison me? Feh! What was that? Boiled sewage?”

  “Your soup,” I told him.

  Elmo jumped in. “What happened?”

  One-Eye spat. He grabbed a nearby wineskin, sucked a mouthful, gargled, spat again. “Soulcatcher happened, that’s what. Whew! I feel for Goblin now”

  My heart started skipping every third beat. A nest of hornets swarmed in my gut. First the Limper, now Soulcatcher.

  “So what did the spook want?” Elmo demanded. He was nervous too. He is not usually impatient.

  “He wanted to know what the hell is going on. He heard the Limper was all excited. He checked with Goblin, All Goblin knew was that we headed here. So he climbed into my head.”

  “And was amazed at all the wide open space. Now he knows everything you know, eh?”

  “Yes.” Obviously, One-Eye did not like the idea.

  Elmo waited several seconds. “Well?”

  “Well what?” One-Eye covered his grin by pulling on the wineskin.

  “Dammit, what did he say?”

  One-Eye chuckled. “He approves of what we’re doing. But he thinks we’re showing all the finesse of a bull in rut. So we’re getting a little help.”

  “What kind of help?” Elmo sounded like he knew things were out of control, but could not see where.

  “He’s sending somebody.”

  Elmo relaxed. So did I. As long as the spook himself stayed away. “How soon?” I wondered aloud.

  “Maybe sooner than we’d like,” Elmo muttered. “Lay off the wine, One-Eye. You still got to watch Zouad.”

  One-Eye grumbled. He went into that semi-trance that means he is looking around somewhere else. He was gone a long time.

  “So!” Elmo growled when One-Eye came out of it. He kept looking around like he expected Soulcatcher to pop out of thin air.

  “So take it easy. They’ve got him tucked away in a secret sub-basement about a mile south of here.”

  Elmo was as restless as a little boy with a desperate need to pee. “What’s the matter with you?” I asked.

  “A bad feeling. Just a bad, bad feeling, Croaker.” His roving gaze came to rest. His eyes got big. “I was right. Oh, damn, I was right.”

  It looked as tall as a house and half as wide. It wore scarlet bleached by time, moth-eaten, and tattered. It came up the street in a sort of shamble, now fast, now slow. Wild, stringy grey hair tangled around its head. Its bramble patch of a beard was so thick and matted with filth that its face was all but invisible. One pallid, liver-spotted hand clutched a pole of a staff that was a thing of beauty defiled by its bearer’s touch. It was an immensely elongated female body, perfect in every detail.

  Someone whispered, “They say that was a real woman back during the Domination. They say she cheated on him.”

  You could not blame the woman. Not if you gave Shifter a good look.

  Shapeshifter is Soulcatcher’s closest ally among the Ten Who Were Taken. His enmity for the Limper is more virulent than our patron’s. The Limper was the third corner in the triangle explaining Shifter’s staff.

  He stopped a few feet away. His eyes burned with an insane fire that made them impossible to meet. I cannot recall what color they were. Chronologically, he was the first great wizard-king seduced, suborned, and enslaved by the Dominator and his Lady.

  Shaking, One-Eye stepped out front. “I’m the wizard,” he said.

  “Catcher told me.” Shifter’s voice was resonant and deep and big for even a man of his size. “Developments?”

  “I’ve traced Zouad. Nothing else.”

  Shifter scanned us again. Some folks were doing a fade. He smiled behind his facial brush.

  Down at the bend in the street civilians were gathering to gape. Oar had not yet seen any of the Lady’s champions. This was the city’s lucky day. Two of the maddest were in town.

  Shifter’s gaze touched me. For an instant I felt his cold contempt. I was a sour stench in his nostrils.

  He found what he was looking for. Raven. He moved forward. We dodged the way small males duck the dominant baboon at the zoo. He stared at Raven for several minutes, then his vast shoulders hunched in a shrug. He placed the toes of his staff on Raven’s chest.

  I gasped. Raven’s color improved dramatically. He stopped sweating. His features relaxed as the pain faded. His wounds formed angry red scar tissue which faded to the white of old scars in minutes. We gathered in a tighter and tighter circle, awed by the show.

  Pokey came trotting up the street. “Hey, Elmo. We did it. What’s going on?” He got a look at Shifter, squeaked like a caught mouse.

  Elmo had himself together again. “Where’s Whitey and Still?”

  “Getting rid of the body.”

  “Body?” Shifter asked. Elmo explained. Shifter grunted. “This Cornie will become the basis of our plan. You.” He speared One-Eye with a sausage-sized finger. “Where are those men?”

  Predictably, One-Eye located them in a tavern. “You.” Shifter indicated Pokey. “Tell them to bring the body back here.”

  Pokey got grey around the edges. You could see the protests piling up inside him. But he nodded, gulped some air, and trotted off. Nobody argues with the Taken.

  I checked Raven’s pulse. It was strong. He looked perfectly healthy. As diffidently as I could, I asked, “Could you do that for the others? While we’re waiting?”

  He gave me a look I thought would curdle my blood. But he did it.

  What happened? What are you doing here?” Raven frowned up at me. Then it came back to him. He sat up. “Zouad.…” He looked around.

  “You’ve been out for two days. They carved you up like a goose. We didn’t think you’d make it.”

  He felt his wounds. “What’s going on, Croaker? I ought to be dead.”

  “Soulcatcher sent a friend. Shifter. He fixed you up.” He had fixed eve
rybody. It was hard to stay terrified of a guy who would do that for your outfit.

  Raven surged to his feet, wobbled dizzily. “That damned Cornie. He set it up.” A knife appeared in his hand. “Damn. I’m weak as a kitten.”

  I had wondered how Cornie could know so much about the attackers. “That isn’t Cornie there, Raven. Cornie is dead. That’s Shifter practicing to be Cornie.” He did not need practice. He was Cornie enough to fool Cornie’s mother.

  Raven settled back beside me. “What’s going on?”

  I brought him up to date. “Shifter wants to go in using Cornie as credentials. They probably trust him now.”

  “I’ll be right behind him.”

  “He might not like that.”

  “I don’t care what he likes. Zouad isn’t getting out of it this time. The debt is too big.” His face softened and saddened. “How’s Darling? She hear about Flick yet?”

  “I don’t think so. Nobody’s been back to Deal. Elmo figures he can do whatever he wants here as long as he don’t have to face the Captain till it’s over.”

  “Good. I won’t have to argue it with him.”

  “Shifter isn’t the only Taken in town,” I reminded him. Shifter had said he sensed the Limper. Raven shrugged. The Limper did not matter to him.

  The Cornie simulacrum came toward us. We rose. I was shaky, but did note that Raven grew a shade paler. Good. He wasn’t a cold stone all the time.

  “You will accompany me,” he told Raven. He eyed me. “And you. And the sergeant.”

  “They know Elmo,” I protested. And he grinned.

  “You will appear to be Rebels. Only one of the Circle would detect the deception. None of them are in Oar. The Rebel here is independently minded. We will take advantage of his failure to summon support.” The Rebel is as plagued by personality politics as is our side.

  Shifter beckoned One-Eye. “Status of Colonel Zouad?”

  “He hasn’t cracked.”

  “He’s tough,” Raven said, begrudging the compliment.

  “You getting any names?” Elmo asked me.

  I had a nice list. Elmo was pleased.

  “We’d better go,” Shifter said. “Before Limper strikes.”

  One-Eye gave us the passwords. Scared, convinced I was not ready for this, more convinced that I did not dare contest Shifter’s selections, I trudged along in the Taken’s wake.