“He’s all right,” I said. “He can bitch.”
The Captain squatted. He did not say anything. Goblin would talk when he was ready.
He took several minutes to get himself together, then said, “Soulcatcher says to get the hell out of here. Fast. He’ll meet us on the way to Lords.”
“That’s it?”
That is all there ever is, but the Captain keeps hoping for more. The game does not seem worth the candle when you see what Goblin goes through.
I looked at him hard. It was one hell of a temptation. He looked back. “Later, Croaker. Give me time to get it straightened out in my head.”
I nodded, said, “A little herb tea will perk you up.”
“Oh, no. You’re not giving me any of that rat piss of One-Eye’s.”
“Not his. My own.” I measured enough for a strong quart, gave it to One-Eye, closed my kit, returned to the papers as the wagon creaked up outside.
As I carried my first load out, I noticed that the men were at the coup de grace stage on the drill field. The Captain was not fooling around. He wanted to put a lot of distance between himself and the camp before Whisper returned.
Can’t say I blame him. Her reputation is thoroughly vile.
I did not get to the oilskin packets till we were travelling again. I sat up beside the driver and started the first, vainly trying to ignore the savage jouncing of the springless vehicle.
I went through the packets twice, growing ever more distressed.
A real dilemma. Should I tell the Captain what I had learned? Should I tell One-Eye or Raven? Each would be interested. Should I save everything for Soulcatcher? No doubt he would prefer that. My question was, did this information fall inside or outside my obligation to the Company? I needed an adviser.
I jumped down from the wagon, let the column drift past till Silent caught up. He had middle guard. One-Eye was on the point and Goblin back in the rear. Each was worth a platoon of outriders.
Silent looked down from the back of the big black he rides when he is in a villainous mood. He scowled. Of our wizards he is the nearest to what you could call evil, though, like so many of us, he is more image than substance.
“I’ve got a problem,” I told him. “A big one. You’re the best sounding board.” I looked around. “I don’t want anyone else to hear this.”
Silent nodded. He made complicated, fluid gestures too quick to follow. Suddenly, I could not hear anything from more than five feet away. You would be amazed how many sounds you do not notice till they are gone. I told Silent what I had found.
Silent is hard to shock. He has seen and heard it all. But he looked properly astonished this time.
For a moment I thought he was going to say something.
“Should I tell Soulcatcher?”
Vigorous affirmative nod. All right. I hadn’t doubted that. The news was too big for the Company. It would eat us up if we kept it to ourselves.
“How about the Captain? One-Eye? Some of the others?”
He was less quick to respond, and less decisive. His advice was negative. With a few questions and the intuition one develops on long exposure, I understood Silent to feel that Soulcatcher would want to spread the word on a need-to-know basis.
“Right, then,” I said, and, “Thanks,” and started trotting up the column. When I was out of sight of Silent, I asked one of the men, “You seen Raven?”
“Up with the Captain.”
That figured. I resumed trotting.
After a moment of reflection I had decided to buy a little insurance. Raven was the finest policy I could imagine.
“You read any of the old languages?” I asked him. It was hard talking to him. He and the Captain were mounted and Darling was right behind them. Her mule kept trying to tromp my heels.
“Some. All part of a classical education. Why?”
I scrambled a few steps ahead. “We’re going to be having mule stew if you don’t watch it, animal.” I swear, that beast sneered. I told Raven, “Some of those papers aren’t modern. The ones One-Eye dug up.” “Not important then, are they?”
I shrugged and ambled along beside him, picking my words carefully. “You never know. The Lady and the Ten, they go way back.” I let out a yelp, spun, ran backward gripping my shoulder where the mule had nipped me. The animal looked innocent, but Darling was grinning impishly.
It was almost worth the pain, just to see her smile. She did so so seldom.
I cut across the column and drifted back till I was walking beside Elmo. He asked, “Is something wrong, Croaker?”
“Uhm? No. Not really.”
“You look scared.”
I was scared. I had tipped the lid off a little box, just to see what was inside, and had found it filled with nastiness. The things I had read could not be unlearned.
When next I saw Raven his face was as grey as mine. Maybe more so. We walked together while he sketched what he had learned from the documents I had not been able to read.
“Some of them belonged to the wizard Bomanz,” he told me. “Others date from the Domination. Some are TelleKurre. Only the Ten use that language anymore.”
“Bomanz?” I asked.
“Right. The one who wakened the Lady. Whisper got a hold of his secret papers somehow.”
“Oh.”
“Indeed. Yes. Oh.”
We parted, each to be alone with his fears.
Soulcatcher came sneakily. He wore clothing not unlike ours outside his customary leathers. He slipped into the column unremarked. How long he was there I do not know. I became aware of him as we were leaving the forest, after three eighteen hour days of heavy marching. I was putting one foot ahead of the other, aching, and mumbling about getting too old when a soft feminine voice inquired, “How are you today, physician?” It lilted with amusement.
Had I been less exhausted I might have jumped ten feet, screaming. As it was, I just took my next step, cranked my head around, and muttered, “Finally showed up, eh?” Profound apathy was the order of the moment.
A wave of relief would arrive later, but just then my brain was running as sluggishly as my body. After so long on the run it was hard to get the adrenaline pumping. The world held no sudden excitements or terrors.
Soulcatcher marched beside me, matching stride for stride, occasionally glancing my way. I could not see his face, but I sensed his amusement.
The relief came, and was followed by a wave of awe at my own temerity. I had talked back like Catcher was one of the guys. It was thunderbolt time.
“So why don’t we look at those documents?” he asked. He seemed positively cheerful. I showed him to the wagon. We scrambled aboard. The driver gave us one wide-eyed look, then stared determinedly forward, shivering and trying to become deaf.
I went straight to the packets that had been buried, started to slip out. “Stay,” he said. “They don’t need to know yet.” He sensed my fear, giggled like a young girl. “You’re safe, Croaker. In fact, the Lady sends her personal thanks.” He laughed again. “She wanted to know all about you, Croaker. All about you. You’ve caught her imagination too.”
Another hammer blow of fear. Nobody wants to catch the Lady’s eye.
Soulcatcher enjoyed my discomfiture. “She might grant you an interview, Croaker. Oh, my. You’re so pale. Well, it isn’t mandatory. To work, then.”
Never have I seen anyone read so fast. He went through the old documents and the new, zip.
Catcher said, “You weren’t able to read all of this.” He used his businesslike female voice.
“No.”
“Neither can I. Some only the Lady will be able to decipher.”
Odd, I thought. I expected more enthusiasm. The seizure of the documents represented a coup for him because he had had the foresight to enlist the Black Company.
“How much did you get?”