The old saw is true. An army does travel on its stomach. What we accomplished by projecting the Taglian will the distance we did was a tribute to Croaker's planning, preparation and devotion. And psychosis. And, of course, it was founded on the four years given us by Longshadow's utter failure to interfere. Poor boy. Should have listened to Mogaba. He would not be living in a kennel. Not that he could be faulted for having been deceived by the Mother of Deceivers when Kina could spin webs of deception to warp the eyesight of gods as great as she.
We had not yet fattened up from the winter but we were getting set to take the next leap already.
Neither Soulcatcher nor Mogaba, neither lost Taglian loyalists nor the local population seemed further inclined to make our lives miserable. We were getting along with the latter fairly well, now.
After apparently at Lady's insistence finally sending recon forces to winkle out the secrets of Overlook, the Old Man had discovered that the fortress contained several treasures. Half became the Company treasury, something we have not had for a generation. All pledged brothers received equal shares of the rest. Eventually, Croaker ordered a market established where locals could bring anything they cared to sell.
Results were disappointing at first. But once we demonstrated that we would not rob or murder anybody trade picked up. Peasants are resilient. They are realists. These did not see how our yoke could weigh heavier than Longshadow's. They had no problems with old or imagined myths of the Black Company despite existing so much closer to Khatovar.
They did not know the name Khatovar, as such, either. Nor were they concerned about Kina, under any of her names. Their Kina was a creator as well as a destroyer, fierce but no unhallowed queen of darkness. The Year of the Skulls was no terror to them. They could imagine no future more grim than their past.
Nobody hailed us as liberators, however. We were but the shadow that displaced the darkness.
I wandered the market occasionally, accompanied by Thai Dei and an interpreter. Thai Dei objected. He was sure my curiosity would get me killed. He was not shy about advising me that curiosity was a lethal curse.
Uncle Doj usually tagged along. Despite pretenses to the contrary, a lot of strain had developed between us. I could not forgive Sarie's absence, though I controlled my urge to bring my knowledge into the open. What I did to irritate him was ask every southerner I interviewed about the constellation called the Noose.
But nobody knew it.
Except for the devastation that was Kiaulune it would have seemed a good world.
I enjoyed myself, except for missing Sarie. And I saw her in my dreams. There were fewer demands on me lately, though I was in charge at the Shadowgate. Red Rudy and Bucket did most of the real work there, showing me the ropes as they went. Nobody said so but I was getting educated in case I ever had to take over. I did not remind anybody that I managed the Old Crew tolerably during our ordeal in Dejagore. I did not remind them that we had a Lieutenant and she was a whole lot more experienced and hard-edged than me. Anytime you say anything you just get more work piled on.
87
I looked downslope one morning and saw a young army headed my way, twenty-five men and as many jackasses, loaded down with packs and bamboo. I told Thai Dei, "I don't like the looks of this. That's Loftus, Longinus and Cletus all at the same time." Not to mention Otto and Hagop, whom I had not seen for a while. "When them three all clot up together you can bet something is up."
Thai Dei looked at me like he wondered if I really thought he was dim enough to think they were off for a picnic. He remembered the brothers from Dejagore and probably understood their obsessions better than I did.
Something was in the wind, though.
I went down to meet them.
"Hey!" Clete hollered, waving. "It's the hermit prince."
"What're you guys up to?"
"We heard you set up your own kingdom over here. We come to see its wonders."
"Looks like you're here to invade me. What is all this shit?" I couched the question in the language of the Jewel Cities.
"Field trials for a new toy. We been playing with it in the cellars of the castle."
"Hnh?" Could there be a real reason that the Old Man still kept most of Overlook off limits? "I hope it's good to eat."
Longo snickered. "This wouldn't be too tasty, Murgen. But it'll be fun to dish out."
Thai Dei scowled. Left out again. Too bad. He was with the Company but not of the Company. As I lived with Nyueng Bao without being Nyueng Bao.
"The way you guys are grinning I got to figure, whatever it is, it's got a lot of gears and levers and does something entirely decorative with a reliability quotient of ten percent."
"O ye of weak faith. Clete, you ever seen a sourball as negative as this guy?"
"He just don't understand engineering."
"I understand engineering fine. I don't understand engineers. What're we doing?"
"Field tests," Clete reminded me. "We applied a little engineering to Lady's fireball flingers."
"Range, accuracy, power, Murgen," Loftus enthused. "Velocity. All areas where we thought there was room for improvement."
Absolutely. The fireball throwers would do a man a lot of damage but you practically had to stick him with your pole to make sure you hit him.
All this foreign yammer brought Uncle Doj around to poke his nose in. Which did him no good. But he would figure it out quickly enough.
Longo said, "You got a nice field of fire here, Murgen." He waved toward the mountains. Miles of nothing lay between us and the evergreen forest. His arm swung around to indicate Overlook. "And a nice measured range down that way." Men were out there setting some kind of survey stakes already.
Guys up close started working double-time, dragging stuff off the pack animals. Cletus grabbed a bamboo pole. "Your basic bamboo. The kind Lady turned out until we brought our thoughts to the table."
Clete popped off a few fireballs in the general direction of a couple of gossiping crows. The crows laughed. The fireballs wobbled into the distance, ran out of momentum, drifted to the ground, faded away. "Can't hit shit. Except shadows. Unless you walk right up to what you want to burn."
Longo interjected, "We made her believe that since soldiers would be using the bamboo to work other targets whether she liked that or not they ought to be able to hit whatever they're aiming at."
Loftus said, "She's spent time around soldiers. She understands how they think."
I sneered. "She's been screwing one for five years. She ought to have a clue."
Clete grabbed a bamboo pole with black bands around it. "This's a cute little number." He nodded to his brothers. They picked up similar poles. Each brother pointed his in the general direction of a crow. Clete said, "Do it."
They cranked. Fireballs flew. Black feathers exploded, floated around smoldering. More fireballs darted out. It did not seem to matter whether the guys aimed well or not. The fireballs hunted their targets down however desperately they darted and dodged. Just the way they had hunted down shadows.
Clete leaned on his pole. "That ought to take care of the spy problem." His brothers remained alert. Longo picked off a clever little devil trying to sneak off at low altitude, whipping between boulders in turns so tight it lost wing feathers every time.
A ball of violet fire closed in at four times the crow's best speed.
Poof!
"Now there's a trick I can appreciate," I said.
Likewise Thai Dei and Uncle Doj and the guys of the thin desperate line at the Shadowgate. Jaws dropped. Rudy swore, "Fugginay! I want me one a them mudsuckers."
I asked, "You got a special problem with crows?"