"My brother unforgiven." That slogan haunted Mogaba's nightmares. He had his regrets.
"How soon can we expect the Protector?" Ghopal asked. "I'll have preparations to make."
Mogaba said, "She was on foot when she started sending her message. But she'll get to a courier station eventually. Then she'll start making good time. I wouldn't count on having more than another two or three days if she gets in a real hurry."
Ghopal grunted unhappily.
Mogaba nodded. Nothing ever went easily.
Aridatha asked, "Did she catch the Deceivers?"
Once again Mogaba thought the man betrayed a curiously skewed interest. Possibly a personal interest. "No. I told you, she said she was breaking off the chase. Enough. We all pretty much know what we need to do. Aridatha, I want the entire courier battalion here as soon as possible. The garrison commanders will need to be advised. I'll let you know right away if any critical news comes in."
Watching the message continue to approach final form, the Great General reviewed his unit commanders and the readiness and reliability of their commands. He was troubled. At first glance it would seem he could call up the resources of an empire. But the Protector had not concerned herself with the upkeep of her armed forces when she was not directly and immediately threatened. And she was not remotely popular, never had been and never wanted to be. She preferred rule by raw strength.
The Prahbrindrah Drah and his sister returning was particularly troubling. They had been popular in their era and in time's crucible had gone through the first stages of sanctification already. Some would hail them as liberators. Hell, if Croaker was still alive they might give him his old title back.
There would be desertions, both at high levels and among the soldiers. Mogaba was more concerned about the troops. The nobility and senior priests, who owed their positions to the Protector, would play it carefully. Taglios had received several painful lessons regarding the price to be paid for betraying the Protector.
Where would it be best to bring the Company to battle? And how could he force battle upon them if they were reluctant to hazard a major encounter?
He was sure that his best chance lay in forcing an early confrontation, before what forces he did have began to evaporate.
36
The Nether Taglian Territories: The Barrens
Soulcatcher hastened along the bank of a creek that was almost as still and deep as a canal, looking for a way to cross. She had miscalculated when she had chosen to cut across these moors and downs to reach the shabby stronghold at Nijha. Clinging to the road would have meant a longer walk but there would have been bridges for times like these.
When she encountered obstacles of this sort she had no choice but to guess which way to turn. She did not know the country. She was blind. There were no bats or owls to send scouting. There were no shadows tonight. She had sent all those to safety, along with her crows. She knew she was capable of dealing with the hobgoblins following her around.
Something rose from the water behind her. It had a shape like a horse. A voice whispered in her ear, telling her to come and ride. She barely glanced at it, and then only in total scorn. These things might be smarter than shadows but they could not be by much. How stupid did they think she was? She did not have to be familiar with the folklore of Hsien to understand that the water horse would drag her under.
She ignored the monster, not knowing it was an afanc, actually of centaur shape rather than equine. A half hour later she ignored one of its cousins, which took the semblance of a giant beaver. Then there was one resembling a crocodile, though this creek was four hundred miles from anywhere warm enough to support those giant reptiles. They all whispered to her. Some of them even knew her true name.
She found a plank footbridge evidently put in place by the seldom-seen, horse-stealing natives of these highlands. As she started across, something whispered to her from underneath. She did not understand its words but their menace was plain enough.
"You don't want me crossing, come up and do something about it." The voice she chose was that of a small child who was severely annoyed, but not frightened.
Something came up. It was huge and dark and ugly. In spots it glowed with a leprous inner light. It had way too many teeth. They stuck out of its mouth at all angles. It would have trouble when it came time to eat.
All those teeth and fangs snapped open as the monster prepared to lunge.
Soulcatcher's gloved right hand drifted forward. A spray of sparkling dust floated onward to meet the evil spirit.
It screamed.
Soulcatcher leapt off the bridge an instant before it shattered to kindling. She backed away, watched the fiend thrash and melt. From behind her mask came a soft wee sound like a little girl's skip-rope song, with a refrain that went, "It was fun to watch you die."
37
The Taglian Territories: Somewhere North of Charandaprash
The Daughter of Night actually seemed to be thriving now that the Protector was stalking them no longer. Narayan was worried.
"You're always worried," she chided. She was happy. Her voice was musical. The light of the campfire made her eyes sparkle—when it did not make them glow red. "If someone is after us you worry about getting caught. If we're safe you worry about me not being a perfect replica of this image of the Daughter of Night you've invented inside your head. Narayan, Narayan... Papa Narayan, what I want more than anything is somehow to fix it so you don't have to do this anymore. You've been the one for so long... You deserve to put it all down now and relax."
Narayan knew that was not possible. Never would be. He did not argue, though. "Then let's bring on the Year of the Skulls. Once Kina returns we can loaf for the rest of our lives."
The girl shivered, seemed puzzled. Then she shuddered violently. She grew more pale, leaving Narayan wondering how she managed that when she was always as pale as death to begin. She stared out into the night, obviously troubled.
Narayan started to dump dirt—piled there for that purpose—onto the fire.
The girl said, "It's too late."
A huge shape rose behind her—then faded away as though dispersed by the wind.
"Kid's right, old man," said a voice Singh had not heard for years and was hearing again far sooner than he had hoped.
Iqbal and Runmust Singh—no relation to Narayan—appeared at the edge of the firelight, wavering, as though they were a mist coalescing. Other men appeared behind them, soldiers in a style of armor Narayan had never seen. Amongst the soldiers he saw drooling red-eyed beasts of species he had never seen before, either.
Singh's heart redoubled its wild pounding.
The girl observed, "Now we know why my aunt quit chasing us."
Runmust Singh agreed. "Now you know. The Black Company is back. And we're not happy." Runmust was a great shaggy Shadar whose sheer size was oppressive.
Iqbal Singh smiled, perfect teeth glistening in the middle of his brushy beard. "This time you'll have to deal with your mother and your father." Iqbal was as shaggy and nearly as huge as his brother but somehow less intimidating. The girl remembered him having a wife and several children. But... Did he mean her birth mother? Her natural father? But they were supposed to be dead.
Her knees went watery. She never had seen her natural parents.
The living saint was unable to keep his feet. Kina was going to test him yet again. And he had no energy left to spend in the fight for his faith. He was too old and too feeble and his faith had worn too thin.