That started everybody talking and yelling.
I pounded a mason’s hammer on a block of wood. “Shut up, you morons! It ain’t the way the Company ever was. The Nar never kept any Annals. They would know that if they had. But they can’t even read.”
I could not be absolutely sure that human sacrifice was never a Company rite. We were missing several early volumes of the Annals and I now suspected strongly that our earliest forebrethren did follow a dark and hungry god with breath so foul and cruel that even oral histories were enough to keep the native people terrified.
Most of the guys did not care about the implications. They were just angry because the Nar were going to make life harder for them.
I told them, “This is one more thing to make trouble between us and them. I want you all to realize that we might have to fight them before we get out of here.”
“Tonight I’m bringing back some traditional business that we have let slide since Croaker got to be Captain. We are going to have regular readings from the Annals so you all know what you have become part of. This first reading is from the Book of Kette, this part probably set down by the Annalist Agrip when the Company was in service to the Paingod of Cho’n Delor.” Our forebrethren endured a long and bitter siege then, though there had been a lot more of them to suffer. Additionally, I planned readings from books Croaker recorded on the Plain of Fear, when the Company lived underground for so long.
I dismissed the men to supper. “One-Eye. No more groaning when I announce a reading. All right? These guys didn’t live through that stuff.”
“Cho’n Delor was way before my time, too.” “Then you need to hear about it.”
“Kid, I been hearing about it for two hundred years. Every damned Annalist that ever was wallowed in the horrors of Cho’n Delor. I wish I could get my hands on those guys who did the Book of Kette. You know Kette wasn’t even the Annalist?
He was the...”
“Goblin. Grab Otto and Hagop. I want a little confab with the oldest Old Crew.”
We five put our heads together, conjured a little something for the meanness. Once we had a scheme I said, “I’ll see what the Speaker thinks.”
67
Ky Dam listened patiently, as an adult will to a bright child with an ingenious but impractical idea. He told me, “You are aware this could spark fighting?”
“Sure. But that’s inevitable. Doj says Mogaba decided that at our meeting. Goblin and One-Eye agree.” So did Hagop and Otto. None of us favored a get along effort. “There are more of us than there are Nar.” But their Taglians way outnumbered OUR and there was no way to guess how the Taglians with either group would jump.
The old man turned to Hong Tray. A quizzical expression accentuated the lines at the corners of his eyes.
Ky Sahra knelt beside me, presenting tea. This was a step beyond anything previous. She met my wondering gaze. I don’t think I slobbered.
Hong Tray observed without reaction. That made her far calmer than I was. She focused on her husband, nodded. He said, “There will be fighting. Soon. The Jaicuri will revolt.”
That was not what I wanted to hear. I asked, “Will they bother your people or mine?” I should not have shoved in. I apologized immediately.
Ky Sahra poured more tea for me, before even she served her grandparents.
Ky Gota manifested like a demon conjured for its serrated tongue. She barked at her daughter in a harsh, lilting gale.
The old man looked up, said one word sharply. Hong Tray supported him with a complete sentence in what I would have to call a sharp whisper. It seemed she could speak no other way.
Ky Gota withdrew. There were well-defined limits and absolute hierarchy inside the Ky family.
I glanced at the beautiful woman. She met my eye again, rocked back and rose. Flushing.
Was something going on? They would not try to manipulate me, would they?
It would not work. No woman, not even this woman, was that special. And Ky Dam had seen enough of me to guess that about me.
If he wanted to manipulate me he would have better luck trading me the straight poop on why the hell everybody pissed blue when the Company got mentioned.
He and the old woman batted whispers back and forth in flurries. Suddenly, he told me, “We will join you in this enterprise, Standardbearer. Provisionally. Hong believes that fighting between the Jaicuri and the soldiers of the black men is imminent. It will be fierce but might not touch the rest of us. That would provide sufficient distraction. But I must insist that Doj has the option to end it if it risks calling unfriendly attention to our people.”
“Excellent. Of course. Done. Though I would have tried it without you.”
Ky Dam permitted himself a small smile, either at my enthusiasm or at the prospect of adding a little more misery to Mogaba’s life.
After dark, assuming the riots got started, we were going to steal Mogaba’s food stores.
68
It started like a well-rehearsed play where Mogaba’s characters were desperate to please their audience. The rioting, that is. Uncle Doj and I formed work parties to take advantage. We got into the storage chambers without challenge, ten Old Crew and ten Nyueng Bao. We started dragging off sacks of rice and flour, sugar and beans. The riots were nasty from the start. They swamped the whole southern half of Dejagore. Every man Mogaba controlled was out there helping crush the rebellion. And every Jaicuri man and boy seemed to want to get at the Nar, even if they had to exterminate the whole First Legion to reach them.
My people went on the alert, established in strong positions, long before nightfall. Likewise the Nyueng Bao, who had no immediate trouble. We ambushed one mob. A shower of missiles from front, sides, and above swiftly changed their minds.
Mogaba’s men had more problems. They were not ready. Worse, they were scattered, often in isolated work parties and patrols.
For a while everybody joked and cracked wise and speculated on Mogaba’s first words after the fighting ended and he found his cellars plundered.
I ran into Bucket my second trip back. “Beans,” I told him, dropping a huge sack. “The change of diet will do us good.”
“It’s real bloody out there this time, Murgen. Mogaba has asked for support twice. We told him we couldn’t find you.”
“Well, keep on not being able. Unless it looks like we would end up worse off if we didn’t help.”
“That’s not likely. He has most of the weapons. His men have been throwing people off the wall by the hundreds, just anybody, whether or not they’re rebelling, men, women and children.”
“That’s Mogaba’s way. What about those fires?” There were a few. Whenever there is disorder somebody starts burning things down.
“They’re burning themselves out.”
“Everything is going fine, then. But keep an eye out.”
I went back to my looting happy as the proverbial clam. This might be the end of Mogaba as a royal pain in the ass.
Uncle Doj caught me in the storage chamber later. “Some Taglian soldiers are abandoning their posts for the safety of the citadel. If we continue this raiding we will get caught.”
“Yeah. If we don’t get spotted Mogaba will blame it on natives who knew about the passageways.” This raid was going to cost us our opportunity to spy on any more staff meetings.
It was worth it.
Would I feel the same way tomorrow, when Mogaba began looking for his stores? When I had a full belly?
“There is a small problem, Standardbearer,” Uncle Doj said a while later. Each of us staggered under a last sack of rice. We were the last brigands out.
“What’s that?”