"I guess you're right." But I did not feel reassured. Maybe some part of me just did not want the Taken to be all dead.
We were approaching the incline that led up to the doorway into the Tower. For the first time the structure betrayed signs of life. Men clad as brightly as peacocks appeared on the high battlements. A handful came out of the gateway, hastily preparing a ceremonial in greeting to their mistress. One-Eye hooted derisively when he saw their apparel.
He would not have dared last time he was there.
I leaned over and whispered, "Be careful. She designed the uniforms on them guys."
I hoped they wanted to greet the Lady, hoped they had nothing more sinister in mind. That depended on what news they had had from the north. Sometimes evil rumors travel swifter than the wind.
"Audacity, guys," I said. "Always audacity. Be bold. Be arrogant. Keep them reeling." I looked at that dark entrance and reflected aloud, "They know me here."
"That's what scares me," Goblin squeaked. Then he cackled.
The Tower filled more and more of the world. Murgen, who'd never seen it before, surrendered to openmouthed awe. Otto and Hagop pretended that that stone pile did not impress them. Goblin and One-Eye became too busy to pay much attention. Lady could not be impressed. She had built the place when she was someone both greater and smaller than the person she was now.
I became totally involved in creating the persona I wanted to project. I recognized the colonel in charge of the welcoming party. We had crossed paths when my fortunes had led me into the Tower before. Our feelings toward one another were ambiguous at best.
He recognized me, too. And he was baffled. The Lady and I had left the Tower together, most of a year ago.
"How you doing, Colonel?" I asked, putting on a big, friendly grin. "We finally made it back. Mission successful."
He glanced at Lady. I did the same, from the edge of my eye. Now was her chance.
She had on her most arrogant face. I could have sworn she was the devil who haunted this Tower—Well, she was. Once. That person did not die when she lost her powers. Did she?
It looked like she would play my game. I sighed, closed my eyes momentarily, while the Tower Guard welcomed their liege.
I trusted her. But always there are reservations. You cannot predict other people. Especially not the hopeless.
Always there was the chance she might reassume the empire, hiding in her secret part of the Tower, letting her minions believe she was unchanged. There was nothing to stop her trying.
She could go that route even after keeping her promise to return the Annals.
That, my companions believed, was what she would do. And they dreaded her first order as empress of shadow restored.
Chapter Five: CHAINS OF EMPIRE
Lady kept her promise. I had the Annals in hand within hours of entering the Tower, while its denizens were still overawed by her return. But...
"I want to go on with you, Croaker." This while we watched the sun set from the Tower's battlements the second evening after our arrival.
I, of course, replied with the golden tongue of a horse seller. "Uh... Uh... But... " Like that. Master of the glib and facile remark. Why the hell did she want to do that? She had it all, there in the Tower. A little careful faking and she could spend the rest of her natural life as the most powerful being in the world. Why go riding off with a band of tired old men, who did not know where they were going or why, only that they had to keep moving lest something—their consciences, maybe—caught them up?
"There's nothing here for me anymore," she said. As if that explained anything. "I want... I just want to find out what it's like to be ordinary people."
"You wouldn't like it. Not near as much as you like being the Lady."
"But I never liked that very much. Not after I had it and found out what I really had. You won't tell me I can't go, will you?"
Was she kidding? No. I would not. It had been the surface understanding, anyway. But it was an understanding I expected to perish once she reestablished herself in the Tower.
I was disconcerted by the implications.
"Can I go?"
"If that's what you want."
"There's a problem."
Isn't there always if there's a woman involved?
"I can't leave right now. Things have gotten confused here. I need a few days to straighten them out. So I can leave with a clear conscience."
We had not encountered any of the troubles I expected. None of her people dared scrutinize her closely. All the labors of One-Eye and Goblin were wasted effort with that audience. The word was out: the Lady was at the helm again. The Black Company was in the fold once more, under her protection. And that was enough for her people.
Wonderful. But Opal was only a few weeks away. From Opal it was a short passage over the Sea of Torments to ports outside the empire. I thought. I wanted to get out while our luck was holding.
"You understand, don't you, Croaker? It'll only be a few days. Honest. Just long enough to shape things up. The empire is a good machine that works smooth as long as the proconsuls are sure someone is in charge."
"All right. All right. We can last a couple days. As long as you keep people away. And you keep out of the way yourself, most of the time. Don't let them get too good a look at you."
"I don't intend to. Croaker?"
"Yeah?"
"Go teach your grandmother to suck eggs." Startled, I laughed. She kept getting more human all the time. And more able to laugh at herself.
She had good intentions. But he—or she—who would rule an empire becomes slave to its administrative detail. A few days came and went. And a few more. And a few more still.
I could entertain myself skulking around the Tower's libraries, digging into rare texts from the Domination or before, unravelling the snarled threads of northern history, but for the rest of the guys it was rough. There was nothing for them to do but try to keep out of sight and worry. And bait Goblin and One-Eye, though they did not have much luck with that. To those of us without talent the Tower was just a big dark pile of rock, but to those two it was a great throbbing engine of sorcery, still peopled by numerous practitioners of the dark arts. They lived every moment in dread.
One-Eye handled it better than Goblin. He managed to escape occasionally, going out to the old battlefield to prowl among his memories. Sometimes I joined him, halfway tempted to take up Lady's invitation to open a few old graves.
"Still not comfortable about what happened?" One-Eye asked one afternoon, as I stood leaning on a bowstave over a marker bearing the name and sigil of the Taken who had been called the Faceless Man. One-Eye's tone was as serious as it ever gets.
"Not entirely," I admitted. "I can't pin it down, and it don't matter much now, but when you reflect on what happened here, it don't add up. I mean, it did at the time. It all looked like it was inevitable. A great kill-off that rid the world of a skillion Rebels and most of the Taken, leaving the Lady a free hand and setting her up for the Dominator at the same time. But in the context of later events... "
One-Eye had started to stroll, pulling me along in his wake. He came to a place that was not marked at all, except in his memory. A thing called a forvalaka had perished there. A thing that had slaughtered his brother—maybe—way back in the days when we first became involved with Soulcatcher, the Lady's legate to Beryl. The forvalaka was a sort of vampirous wereleopard originally native to One-Eye's own home jungle, somewhere way down south. It had taken One-Eye a year to catch up with and have his revenge upon this one.
"You're thinking about how hard it was to get rid of the Limper," he said. His voice was thoughtful. I knew he was recalling something I thought he had put out of mind.