He translated, then said, "No. I can't figure out the alphabet. 'Course, I never learned to read or write Rosean, neither." He grinned. "Not Cordy, neither."
"Blade?"
"You kidding?"
"Wonderful. Find me somebody who can. It's all right if he's one of the Radisha's spies. Two birds with one stone. I'll want you and him both attached to me at the hip till I learn the language. All right. What I need right now is for him to get out the word that volunteers should assemble in the Chandri Square an hour after dawn tomorrow." The Chandri Square was near our barracks and one of the biggest in Taglios. "They should bring any weapons or equipment they have. We'll pick twenty-five hundred to start training immediately and enroll the rest for later."
"You may be too optimistic."
"I thought these people were eager to get into it."
"They are. But tomorrow is a holy day for the Gunni cults. That takes in four-tenths of the lower classes. When they sit down nobody else can do anything, either."
"There aren't any holidays in a war. They better get used to that right now. They don't show up, that's tough. They get left behind. Tell the Prince to spread the word that the guys who volunteer earliest are the guys who're going to get the best deal. But everybody starts at the bottom. Even him, if he enlists. I don't know the class structures here and I don't care. I'll make a prince carry a spear and have a farm boy command a legion if that's what the man can do best."
"That attitude's going to cause problems, Cap. And even if they elect you god you're going to have to walk careful around the priests."
"I'll deal with them when I have to. The politics I can probably handle. I can twist arms and smooth fur if I have to, though mainly I just won't put up with it. Tell the Prince he should hang around my headquarters some. Things will go smoother if people think he's part of what's happening."
Swan and the Prince chattered. The Radisha gave me a searching look, then a smile that said she knew what I was up to. The devil in me made me wink.
Her smile broadened.
I decided I should know more about her. Not because I was attracted to her but because I suspected I would like the way she thought. I like a person with a sound cynical attitude.
Old Smoke, the so-called fire chief, did nothing all evening but nod off and start awake. Being a cynic, I approved of him as a public official. The best kind are those who stay the hell out of the way and don't mess with things. Except for me, of course.
"One thing left for tonight," I told Swan. "Financing. The Black Company don't come cheap. Neither does creating, arming, training, and maintaining an army."
Swan grinned. "They got you covered, Cap. Back when they first heard the prophecies of your coming they started raising money. It won't be a problem."
"It's always a problem."
He smiled. "You won't be able to spend like there ain't no bottom to the bucket. The Woman hangs on to the purse strings around here. And she's famous for being tight."
"Good enough. Ask the Prince if there's anything else he needs now. I've got a ton of stuff to do."
There was another hour of talk, none of it important, all of it the Prahbrindrah and Radisha trying to get an idea what I was planning, trying to get a clearer picture of my character and competence. Giving a stranger life-and-death power over their state was one long bet for them. I figured I'd do a little something to help their underground scheme.
I became impatience itself, but was proud of me. I controlled it.
Walking home after dark, without crowds, I asked Lady, "Can we count on Shifter's help?"
"He'll do what I tell him."
"You're sure?"
"Not absolutely. It looks that way, though."
"Could he do some scouting over Shadowmaster country? Shifting into something that flies?"
"Maybe." She smiled. "But he wouldn't have strength enough to carry you. And I know you. You wouldn't trust a report from anybody but you."
"Well... "
"You'll have to take your chances. Trust him as much as you dare. He'll serve me if I command him. But he isn't my slave. He has his own goals now. They may not be your goals."
I thought it might be a good time to sneak up on something I'd been sliding around since I'd caught her playing with fire in a cup overlooking Gea-Xle. "And your own restored talent?"
She was not fazed. "You're kidding. I might bother Goblin if I sneaked up on him and hit him with a hammer. Otherwise, I'm useless. Even small talents have to be exercised to be any good. There's no time for exercise."
"I guess we'll all just do what we can."
Mogaba said, "I have several ideas for disarming problems arising from religious friction. At least temporarily."
"Speaking of which. I need to carve on that priest's kid. One-Eye, I'll need you to back me up. Go ahead, Mogaba."
His notion was straightforward. We would raise our own army without regard to religion and use it to meet the Shadowmasters' main thrust. We would encourage the cults to raise their own forces and use them to meet threats that appeared at the secondary fords. But we would not surrender our claim to supreme command.
I laughed. "I have a feeling you're looking for a repeat of the debacle of last summer when—"
"Nothing should disarm them more thoroughly than failures and displays of incompetence. I thought we ought to give them their chances."
"Sounds good to me. Work up a couple of questions for recruits so we can get the drift of their religious commitment and tolerance when we sign them up. You want to tell me how to find this guy Jahamaraj Jah?"
Chapter Thirty-one: TAGLIOS; A BOOT-CAMP CITY
It had been years since I hazarded internal surgery. Before I started I was shaky and filled with doubts, but habit took hold in the crunch. My hand was steady. One-Eye restrained his natural exuberance and used his talents judiciously to control bleeding and deaden pain.
As I washed my hands I said, "I can't believe it went that well. I haven't done one of those since I was a kid, practically."
"She going to pull through?" One-Eye asked.
"Should. Unless there're complications. I want you to check back every day to make sure she's doing all right."
"Hey, Croaker. I got me an idea. Why don't you buy me a broom?"
"What?"
"When I wasn't busy doing anything else I could be sweeping up."
"I'll get myself one, too." I spoke to the child's parents briefly, through Frogface, clueing them in on what had to be done. Their gratitude was stifling. I doubted it would last. People are that way. But as we were about to leave I told the father, "I'll collect on this."
"Anything."
"It won't be trivial. When the time comes."
He understood. He looked grim as he nodded.
We were about to step into the street when One-Eye said, "Hold up." He pointed.
I looked down at three dead bats arranged in a neat equilateral triangle. "Maybe the boys aren't imagining things." The bat cadavers were not neat.
A crow cawed somewhere nearby.
I muttered, "I'll take my help where I can get it." Louder, "Could you make a bat spy on people?"
One-Eye thought about it. "I couldn't. But it might be possible. Though they aren't long on brains."
"That's all I needed to know." Except for who was running the bats. The Shadowmasters, I presumed.
The twenty-hour days started. When I was not preoccupied with anything else I tried to learn the language. After you have learned enough they come easy. Or easier, anyway.