“The entire desert has risen against me,” she said. “Whisper’s outposts have suffered an annoying variety of attacks.”
“I suspect your intrusions are resented. I thought you were going to disengage.”
“I tried. Your deaf peasant isn’t cooperating. Have you been thinking?”
“I’ve been sleeping is what I’ve been doing. As you know.”
“Yes. So. There were matters which demanded attention. Now I can devote myself to the problem at hand.” The look in her eye made me want to run... She gestured. I froze. She told me to back up, to sit in a nearby chair. I sat, unable to shake the spell, though I knew what was coming.
She stood before me, one eye closed. The open eye grew bigger and bigger, reached out, devoured me...
I think I screamed.
The moment had been inevitable since my capture, though I had held a foolish hope otherwise. Now she would drain my mind like a spider drains a fly...
I recovered in my cell, feeling as though I had been to hell and back. My head throbbed. It was a major undertaking to rise and stagger to my medical kit, which had been returned after my captors removed the lethals. I prepared an infusion of willow inner bark, which took forever because I had no fire over which to heat the water.
Someone came in as I nursed and cursed the first weak, bitter cup. I did not recognize him. He seemed surprised to see me up. “Hello,” he said. “Quick recovery.”
“Who the hell are you?”
“Physician. Supposed to check you once an hour. You weren’t expected to recover for a long time. Headache?”
“Goddamn well right.”
“Cranky. Good.” He placed his bag next to my kit, which he glanced through as he opened his. “What did you take?”
I told him, asked, “What do you mean, good?”
“Sometimes they come out listless. Never recover.”
“Yeah?” I thought about whipping him just for the hell of it. Just to vent my spleen. But what was the point? Some guard would come bouncing in and make my pains the worse. Too much like work, anyway.
“Are you something special?”
“I think so.”
A flicker of a smile. “Drink this. Better than the bark tea.” I downed the drink he offered. “She is most concerned. Never before have I seen her care what became of one subjected to the deep probe.”
“How about that?” I was having trouble keeping my foul mood. The drink he’d given me was good stuff, and fast. “What was that concoction? I could use it by the barrel.”
“It’s addictive. Rendered from the juice of the top four leaves of the parsifal plant.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Rather scarce.” He was examining me at the time. “Grows in some place called the Hollow Hills. The natives use it as a narcotic.”
The Company had been through those terrible hills once upon a time. “Didn’t know there were natives.”
“They’re as scarce as the plant. There’s been talk in council of growing it commercially after the fighting ends. As a medicinal.” He clucked his tongue, which reminded me of the toothless ancient who had taught me medicine. Funny. I hadn’t thought of him in ages.
Funnier still, all sorts of old odd memories were streaking to the surface, like bottom fish scared toward the light. The Lady had stirred my mind good.
I did not pursue his remark about raising the weed commercially, though that was at odds with my notion of the Lady. The black hearts don’t worry about relieving pain.
“How do you feel about her?”
“The Lady? Right now? Not very charitable. How about you?” He ignored that. “She expects to see you as soon as you recover.”
“Does a bear shit in the woods?” I countered. “I get the idea I’m not exactly a prisoner. How about I get some air on the roof? Can’t hardly run away from there.”
“I’ll see if it’s permitted. Meantime, take some exercise here.”
Hah. The only exercise I get is jumping to conclusions. I just wanted to get somewhere outside four walls. “Am I still among the living?” I asked when he finished examining me.
“For the time being. Though with your attitude I am amazed you survived in an outfit like yours.”
“They love me. Worship me. Wouldn’t harm a hair on my head.” His mention of the outfit put my mood on the downswing. I asked, “You know how long it’s been since I was captured?”
“No. I think you’ve been here more than a week. Could be longer.”
So. Guess at least ten days since my capture. Give the boys the benefit of the doubt, have them moving light and hard, and they had maybe covered four hundred miles. Just one giant step out of many. Crap.
Stalling was pointless now. The Lady knew everything I did. I wondered if any of it had been of any use. Or much of a surprise.
“How is my friend?” I asked, suffering a sudden guilt.
“I don’t know. He was moved north because his connection with his spirit was becoming attenuated. I’m sure the subject will arise when next you visit the Lady. I’m finished. Have a nice stay.”
“Sarky bastard.”
He grinned as he left.
Must run in the profession.
The Colonel stepped in a few minutes later. “I hear you want to go to the roof.”
“Yeah.”
“Inform the sentry when you would like to go.” He had something else on his mind. After a pause he asked, “Isn’t there any military discipline in your outfit?”
He was irked because I had not been sirring him. Various smart remarks occurred. I stifled them. My status might not remain enigmatic. “Yes. Though not so much as in earlier days. Not enough of us left since Juniper to make that stuff worth the trouble.”
Sly shot, Croaker. Put them on the defensive. Tell them the Company fell to its current pitiful state laboring for the Lady. Remind them that it was the empire’s satraps who turned first. That must be common knowledge by now, among the officer corps. Something they should think about occasionally.
“Pity, that,” the Colonel said.
“You my personal watchdog?”
“Yes. She sets great store by you for some reason.”
“I wrote her a poem once,” I lied. “I also got the goods on her.”
He frowned, decided I was bullshitting.
“Thanks,” I said, by way of extending an olive branch. “I’ll write for a while before I go.” I was way behind. Except for a bit at Blue Willy I had done nothing but jot an occasional note since leaving the Plain.
I wrote till cramps compelled me to stop. Then I ate, for a guard brought a meal as I sanded my last sheet. Done gobbling, I went to the door, told the lad there I was ready to go topside. When he opened up I discovered I was not locked in.
But where the hell could I go if I got out? Silly even thinking of escape.
I had a feeling I was about to take on the official historian job. Like it or no, it would be the least of many evils.
Some tough decisions stared me in the eye. I wanted time to think them over. The Lady understood. Certainly she had the power and talent to be more foresighted than a physician who had spent six years out of touch.
Sunset. Fire in the west, clouds in raging flame. The sky a wealth of unusual colors. A chill breeze from the north, just enough to shiver and refresh. My guardian stayed well away, permitting the illusion of freedom. I walked to the northern parapet.
There was little evidence of the great battle fought below. Where once trenches, palisades, earthworks, and siege engines had stood, and burned, and tens of thousands had died, there was parkland. A single black stone Stella marked the site, five hundred yards from the Tower.
The crash and roar returned. I remembered the Rebel horde, relentless, like the sea, wave after wave; smashing upon unyielding cliffs of defenders. I recalled the feuding Taken, their fey and fell deaths, the wild and terrible sorceries...