"I'm vague because I have no answers, Radisha. Only questions. I wonder, more and more, if the band we see isn't an illusion cast for our benefit. A handful of men, hard and tough and skilled in their murderous ways, to be sure, but nothing that should terrify the Shadowmasters. There aren't enough of them to make a difference. So why are the Shadowmasters concerned? Either they know more than we do or they see better than we do. Remember the history of the Free Companies. They weren't just bands of killers. And these men are determined to reach Khatovar. Their captain has tried everything short of violence to unearth information about the way."
"Hey, Smoke! You said go someplace else and talk," Blade said. "So how about we go?"
Swan agreed. "Yeah. This dump gives me the creeps. I don't get you guys, Radisha. You and the Prince claim you run Taglios, but you go around hiding out in holes like this."
"Our seats aren't secure." She started moving. "We rule with the consent of the priests, really. And we don't want them knowing everything we're doing."
"Every damned lord and priest who was anybody was up in that grove tonight. They know."
"They know what we told them. Which is only part of the truth."
Cordy eased in close to Willow. "Keep it down, man. Can't you see what's up? They're playing for a lot more than just turning back the Shadowmasters."
"Uhm."
Behind them, something resembling a panther padded from one pool of darkness to another, silent as death itself. Crows glided from one point of vantage to another. A childlike figure tagged along behind, apparently openly but remaining unseen. But no bats darted overhead.
Willow understood, with that one admonition. The Woman and her brother thought the struggle with the Shadowmasters would preoccupy the priests and cults. While they were distracted they would gather all the reins of the state...
He did not begrudge them. He had little use for priests.
He thought maybe Blade was on to something. Here, sure. They ought all to be drowned so Taglios could be put out of its misery.
Each dozen or so paces he turned, looked back. The street was always empty behind him. Yet he was sure something was watching.
"Creepy," he muttered. And wondered how he'd gotten himself into this mess.
Chapter Twenty-four: TAGLIOS: A PRINCELY PRESSURE
That Prahbrindrah Drah might have been one of the good guys but he was as slick as any villian. Two days after our visit I couldn't go out without being hailed Guardian, Protector, and Deliverer. "What the hell is going on?" I asked One-Eye.
"Trying to lock you in." He glared at Frogface. The imp had not been much good since that night. He couldn't get near anybody—except Swan and his buddies, in a dive they owned. And they didn't talk business there. "You sure you want to go to this library?"
"I'm sure." Somehow the Taglians had gotten the idea I was a big healer as well as some kind of messianic general. "What the hell is wrong with them? I can see the Prince trying to sell them the load of sheep shit, but why are they buying it?"
"They want to."
Mothers thrust their babies at me to be touched and blessed. Young men clashed anything metal and roared songs with a martial beat. Maidens threw flowers on my path. And sometimes themselves.
"That's nice, Croaker," One-Eye said, as I disentangled myself from a daydream about sixteen years old. "You don't want her, toss her my way."
"Take it easy. Before you give in to your baser instincts think about what's going on."
He was reserved to an extreme that baffled me. I think he saw it all as illusion. Or at least as a honeytrap. One-Eye is silly but he isn't stupid. Sometimes.
One-Eye chuckled. "Surrender to temptation. Lady can't look over your shoulder all the time."
"I might. I just might. It is my duty not to disappoint these people when they're trying so hard to hustle us. Isn't it?"
"There you go." But he did not sound like he believed himself. He was uncomfortable with his good fortune.
We went into the library. I found nothing. So much nothing I got even more suspicious than I was. Frogface wasn't much use, but he could eavesdrop. The conversations he reported contributed to my concern.
It was a good time for the men. Even the supreme discipline of the Nar was not proof against some temptations. Mogaba did not hold them on too tight a leash. As Goblin howled one morning, "Heaven's on fire, Croaker!"
Always there was this feeling of something happening just out of the comer of my eye.
The geopolitical situation was clear. It was just as Swan had described. Meaning that to reach Khatovar we would have to slice through seven hundred miles of country ruled by the Shadowmasters. If Shadowmasters there were.
I had some slight doubts. Everyone I talked to, through Frogface, believed they existed, but nobody provided any concrete evidence.
"Nobody has ever seen the gods, either," a priest told me. "But we all believe in them, don't we? We see their handiwork... " He realized that I had scowled at his suggestion that everyone believed in gods. His eyes narrowed. He scurried away. For the first time I had found me somebody less than thrilled with my presence in Taglios. I told One-Eye it might be more profitable if we started spying on the High Priests instead of the Prince and Swan, who knew when to keep their mouths shut.
That we were being manipulated into going up against some heavyweight sorcerers did not intimidate me. Much. We had been up against the best for twenty years. What troubled me was my ignorance.
I did not know the language. I did not know the Taglian people. Their history was a mystery and Swan's bunch were no help tossing light into the shadows. And, of course, I knew nothing about the Shadowmasters or the peoples they ruled. Nothing but what I had been told, which could be worse than nothing. Worst of all, I was not acquainted with the ground where any struggle would take place. And I had too little time to learn all the answers.
Sundown of the third day. We moved to quarters farther south in the city, provided by the state. I gathered everyone but the half-dozen men on guard duty. While most of the guys ate supper—cooked and served by people provided by the Prahbrindrah—the folks at my long table got their heads together. The rest had orders to keep the Taglians hopping. I doubted they could understand us, but you don't take chances.
I sat at the head of the table, Lady to my left and Mogaba to my right, he with his two leading men next to him. Goblin and One-Eye were beyond Lady on her side, tonight with Goblin in the seat nearer the head. I had to make them trade off each meal. Beyond them were Murgen and Hagop and Otto, with Murgen at the foot of the table, in his capacity as apprentice Annalist. I made like I was telling a story as we ate. The paterfamilias entertaining his children.
"I'm taking the imperial horses out tonight. Lady, Goblin, Hagop, Otto, you'll come. One of the roi. One of your lieutenants, Mogaba, and one of your men. Men who can ride."
One-Eye drew a breath to complain. So did Murgen. But Mogaba slid in ahead of both. "A sneak?"
"I want to scout to the south. These people could be selling us a pig in a poke."
I didn't think they were, but why take a man's word when you can see for yourself? Especially when he's trying to use you?
"One-Eye, you stay here because I want you working your pet. Day and night. Murgen, write down whatever he tells you. Mogaba, cover for us. If they've been telling it straight we won't be gone long."
"You told the Prahbrindrah you'd give him an answer in a week. You have four days left."
"We'll be back in time. We'll go after next watch change, after Goblin and One-Eye knock out anybody who might see us."
Mogaba nodded. I glanced at Lady. She didn't contribute much anymore. If I wanted to be the boss, I was going to be the boss and she would keep her opinion to herself.