Then I saw him in the light from a tavern door. A tail, lean man shuffling dispiritedly, oblivious to his surroundings. Raker? How would I know? Elmo and Otto were the only ones who had been along on the farm raid...
Came the dawn. Only they could identify Raker for the rest of us. Otto was wounded and Elmo had not been heard from... Where was he? Under a blanket of snow in some alley, cold as this hideous night?
My fright retreated before anger.
I sheathed my sword and drew a dagger. I kept it hidden inside my cloak. The figure ahead did not glance back as I overtook it, drew even.
“Rough night, eh, old-timer?”
He grunted noncommittally. Then he looked at me, eyes narrowing, when I fell into step beside him. He eased away, watched me closely. There was no fear in his eyes. He was sure of himself. Not the sort of old man you found wandering the streets of the slums. They are scared of their own shadows.
“What do you want?” It was a calm, straightforward question.
He did not have to be frightened. I was scared enough for both of us. “You knifed a friend of mine, Raker.”
He halted. A glint of something strange showed in his eye. “The Black Company?”
I nodded.
He stared, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “The physician. You’re the physician. The one they call Croaker.”
“Glad to meet you.” I am sure my voice sounded stronger than I felt.
I thought, what the hell do I do now?
Raker flung his cloak open. A short stabbing sword thrust my way. I slid aside, opened my own cloak, dodged again and tried to draw my sword.
Raker froze. He caught my eye. His eyes seemed to grow larger, larger... I was falling into twin grey pools... A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He stepped toward me, blade rising...
And grunted suddenly. A look of total amazement came over his face. I shook his spell, stepped back, came to guard.
Raker turned slowly, faced the darkness. Raven’s knife protruded from his back. Raker reached back and withdrew it. A mewl of pain passed his lips. He glared at the knife, then, ever so slowly, began to sing.
“Move, Croaker!”
A spell! Fool! I had forgotten what Raker was. I charged.
Raven arrived at the same instant.
I looked at the body. “Now what?”
Raven knelt, produced another knife. It had a serrated edge. “Somebody claims Soulcatcher’s bounty.”
“He’d have a fit.”
“You going to tell him?”
“No. But what will we do with it?” There had been times when the Black Company was prosperous, but never when it was rich. Accumulation of wealth is not our purpose.
“I can use some of it. Old debts. The rest... Divide it up. Send it back to Beryl. Whatever. It’s there. Why let the Taken keep it?”
I shrugged. “Up to you. I just hope Soulcatcher don’t think we crossed him.”
“Only you and me know. I won’t tell him.” He brushed the snow off the old man’s face. Raker was cooling fast.
Raven used his knife.
I am a physician. I have removed limbs. I am a soldier. I have seen some bloody battlefields. Nevertheless, I was queasy. Decapitating a dead man did not seem right.
Raven secured our grisly trophy inside his cloak. It did not bother him. Once, on the way to our part of town, I asked, “Why did we go after him, anyway?”
He did not answer immediately. Then, “The Captain’s last letter said to get it over with if I had the chance.”
As we neared the square, Raven said, “Go upstairs. See if the spook is there. If he’s not, send the soberest man after our wagon. You come back here.”
“Right.” I sighed, hurried to our quarters. Anything for a little warmth.
The snow was a foot deep now. I was afraid my feet were permanently damaged.
“Where the hell have you been?” Elmo demanded when I stumbled through the doorway. “Where’s Raven?”
I looked around. No Soulcatcher. Goblin and One-Eye were back, dead to the world. Otto and Hagop were snoring like giants. “How’s Otto?”
“Doing all right. What’ve you been up to?”
I settled myself beside our fire, prized my boots off. My feet were blue and numb but not frozen. Soon they tingled painfully. My legs ached from all that walking through the snow, too. I told Elmo the whole story.
“You killed him?”
“Raven said the Captain wants done with the project.”
“Yeah. I didn’t figure Raven would go cut his throat.”
“Where’s Soulcatcher?”
“Hasn’t been back.” He grinned. “I’ll get the wagon Don’t tell anybody else. Too many big mouths.” He flung his cloak about his shoulders, stamped out.
My hands and feet felt halfway human. I scooted over and nabbed Otto’s boots. He was about my size, and hi did not need them.
Out into the night again. Morning, almost. Dawn was due soon.
If I expected any remonstrance from Raven I was disappointed. He just looked at me. I think he actually shivered. I remember thinking, maybe he is human after all. “Had to change my boots. Elmo is getting the wagon The rest of them are passed out.”
“Soulcatcher?”
“Not back yet.”
“Let’s plant this seed.” He strode into the swirling flakes. I hurried after him.
The snow had not collected on our trap. It sat then glowing gold. Water puddled beneath it and trickled away to become ice.
“You think Soulcatcher will know when this thing get: discharged?” I asked.
“It’s a good bet. Goblin and One-Eye, too.”
“The place could burn down around those two and they wouldn’t turn over.”
“Nevertheless... Sshh! Somebody out there. Go that way.” He moved the other direction, circling.
What am I doing this for? I wondered as I skulked through the snow, weapon in hand. I ran into Raven. “Set anything?”
He glared into the darkness. “Somebody was here.” He sniffed the air, turned his head slowly right and left. He took a dozen quick steps, pointed down.
He was right. The trail was fresh. The departing half looked hurried. I stared at those marks. “I don’t like it, Raven.” Our visitor’s spoor indicated that he dragged his right foot. “The Limper.”
“We don’t know for sure.”
“Who else? Where’s Elmo?”
We returned to the Raker trap, waited impatiently. Raven paced. He muttered. I could not recall ever having seen him this unsettled. Once, he said, “The Limper isn’t Soulcatcher.”
Really. Soulcatcher is almost human. Limper is the sort that enjoys tormenting babies.
A jangle of traces and squeak of poorly greased wheels entered the plaza. Elmo and the wagon appeared. Elmo pulled up and jumped down.
“Where the hell you been?” Fear and weariness made me cross.
“Takes time to dig out a stableboy and get a team ready. What’s the matter? What happened?”
“The Limper was here.”
“Oh, shit. What did he do?”
“Nothing. He just...”
“Let’s move,” Raven snapped. “Before he comes back.” He took the head to the stone. The wardspells might not have existed. He fitted our trophy into the waiting declivity. The golden glow winked out. Snowflakes began accumulating on head and stone.
“Let’s go,” Elmo gasped. “We don’t have much time.”
I grabbed a sack and heaved it into the wagon. Thoughtful Elmo had laid out a tarp to keep loose coins from dribbling between the floorboards.
Raven told me to rake up the loose stuff under the table. “Elmo, dump some of those sacks out and give them to Croaker.”
They heaved bags. I scrambled after loose coins.
“One minute gone,” Raven said. Half the bags were in the wagon.
“Too much loose stuff,” I complained.
“We’ll leave it if we have to.”
“What’re we going to do with it? How will we hide it?”
“In die hay in the stable,” Raven said. “For now. Later we put a false bed in the wagon. Two minutes gone.”
“What about wagon tracks?” Elmo asked. “He could follow them to the stable.”