I doubt it would be that simple. People like the Lady have trouble assuming a lesser role. Deposed princes keep acting like princes.
“Thanks for taking the trouble to tell me about it, Goblin.”
“No trouble. I didn’t have anything to tell. Only reason I put it off was it upset me so much.”
Raven finished retrieving his arrows. He came over and told Goblin, “Why don’t you go put a bug in One-Eye’s bedroll, or something? We’ve got work to do.” He was nervous about my erratic marksmanship.
We had to depend on one another. If either missed, chances were we would die before a second shaft could be sped. I did not want to think about that.
But thinking about it improved my concentration. I got most of my arrows into the rag this time.
It was a pain in the ass damned thing to have to do, night before whatever faced Raven and I, but the Captain refused to part with a tradition three centuries old. He also refused to entertain protests about our having been drafted by Soulcatcher, or demands for the additional knowledge he obviously commanded. I mean, I understood what Catcher wanted done and why, I just could not make sense of why he wanted Raven and I to do it. Having the Captain back him only made it more confusing.
“Why, Croaker?” he finally demanded. “Because I gave you an order, that’s why. Now get out there and do your reading.”
Once each month, in the evening, the entire Company assembles so the Annalist can read from his predecessors. The readings are supposed to put the men in touch with the outfit’s history and traditions, which stretch back centuries and thousands of miles.
I placed my selection on a crude lectern and went with the usual formula. “Good evening, brothers. A reading from the Annals of the Black Company, last of the Free Companies of Khatovar. Tonight I’m reading from the Book of Kette, set down early in the Company’s second century by Annalists Lees, Agrip, Holm, and Straw. The Company was in service to the Paingod of Cho’n Delor at that time. That was when the Company really was black.”
“The reading is from Annalist Straw. It concerns the Company’s role in events surrounding the fall of Cho’n Delor.” I began to read, reflecting privately that the Company has served many losing causes.
The Cho’n Delor era bore many resemblances to our own, though then, standing more than six thousand strong, the Company was in a better position to shape its own destiny.
I lost track entirely. Old Straw was hell with a pen. I read for three hours, raving like a mad prophet, and held them spellbound. They gave me an ovation when I finished. I retreated from the lectern feeling as though my life had been fulfilled.
The physical and mental price of my histrionics caught up as I entered my barracks. Being a semi-officer, I rated a small cubicle of my own. I staggered right to it.
Raven was waiting. He sat on my bunk doing something artistic with an arrow. Its shaft had a band of silver around it. He seemed to be engraving something. Had I not been exhausted, I might have been curious.
“You were superb,” Raven told me. “Even I felt it.”
“Eh?”
“You made me understand what it meant to be a brother of the Black Company back then.”
“What it still means to some.”
“Yes. And more. You reached them where they lived.”
“Yeah. Sure. What’re you doing?”
“Fixing an arrow for the Limper. With his true name on it. Catcher gave it to me.”
“Oh.” Exhaustion kept me from pursuing the matter. “What did you want?”
“You made me feel something for the first time since my wife and her lovers tried to murder me and steal my rights and titles,” He rose, closed one eye, looked down the length of his arrow. “Thanks, Croaker. For a while I felt human again.” He stalked out.
I collapsed on the bunk and closed my eyes, recalling Raven strangling his wife, taking her wedding ring, and saying not a word. He had revealed more in that one rapid-fire sentence than since the day we had met. Strange.
I fell asleep reflecting that he had evened scores with everyone but the ultimate source of his despair. The Limper had been untouchable because he was one of the Lady’s own. But no more.
Raven would be looking forward to tomorrow. I wondered what he would dream tonight. And if he would have much purpose left if the Limper died. A man cannot survive on hatred alone. Would he bother trying to survive what was coming?
Maybe that was what he wanted to say.
I was scared. A man thinking that way could get a little flashy, a little dangerous to those around him.
A hand closed on my shoulder. “Time, Croaker.” The Captain himself was doing the wakeup calls.
“Yeah. I’m awake.” I had not slept well.
“Catcher is ready to go.”
It was still dark out. “Time?”
“Almost four. He wants to be gone before first light.”
“Oh.”
“Croaker? Be careful out there. I want you back.”
“Sure, Captain. You know I don’t take chances. Captain? Why me and Raven, anyway?” Maybe he would tell me now.
“He says the Lady calls it a reward.”
“No shit? Some reward.” I felt around for my boots as he moved to the door. “Captain? Thanks.”
“Sure.” He knew I meant thanks for caring.
Raven stuck his head in as I was lacing my jerkin. “Ready?”
“One minute. Cold out there?”
“Nippy.”
“Take a coat?”
“Wouldn’t hurt. Mail shirt?” He touched my chest.
“Yeah.” I pulled my coat on, picked up the bow I was taking, bounced it on my palm. For an instant Goblin’s amulet lay cool on my breastbone. I hoped it would work.
Raven cracked a smile. “Me too.”
I grinned back. “Let’s go get them.”
Soulcatcher was waiting on the court where we had practiced our archery. He was limned by light from the company mess. The bakers were hard at work already. Catcher stood at a stiff parade rest, a bundle under his left arm. He stared toward the Forest of Cloud. He wore only leathers and morion. Unlike some of the Taken, he seldom carries weapons. He prefers relying on his thaumaturgic skills.
He was talking to himself. Weird stuff. “Want to see him go down. Been waiting four hundred years.” “We can’t get that close. He’ll smell us coming.” “Put aside all Power.” “Oh! That’s too risky!” A whole chorus of voices got into the act. It got really spooky when two of them talked at once.
Raven and I exchanged glances. He shrugged. Catcher did not faze him. But, then, he grew up in the Lady’s dominions. He has seen all the Taken. Soulcatcher is supposedly one of the least bizarre.
We listened for a few minutes. It did not get any saner out. Finally, Raven growled, “Lord? We’re ready.” He sounded a little shaky.
I was beyond speech myself. All I could think of was a bow, an arrow, and a job I was expected to do. I rehearsed the draw, release, and flight of my shaft over and over again. Unconsciously, I rubbed Goblin’s gift. I would catch myself doing that often.
Soulcatcher shuddered like a wet dog, drew himself together. Without looking at us, he gestured, said, “Come,” and started walking.
Raven turned. He yelled, “Darling, you get back in there like I told you. Go on now.”
“How is she supposed to hear you?” I asked, looking back at the child watching from a shadowed doorway.
“She won’t. But the Captain will. Go on now.” He gestured violently. The Captain appeared momentarily. Darling vanished. We followed Soulcatcher. Raven muttered to himself. He worried about the child.
Soulcatcher set a brisk pace, out of the compound, out of Lords itself, across fields, never looking back. He led us to a large woodlot several bowshots from the wall, to a glade at the lot’s heart. There, on the bank of a creek, lay a ragged carpet stretched on a crude wooden frame about a foot high and six feet by eight. Soulcatcher said something. The carpet twitched, wriggled a little, stretched itself taut.