I caught a two-hour nap. The Lieutenant allowed half the troops
and workers the same, then the other half. When I wakened, I found
few changes, except that the Captain had sent Pockets over to
establish a field hospital. Pockets had been down in the Buskin,
trying to win friends with free medical attention. I looked in,
found only a handful of patients and the situation under control,
went on to check the siegework.
The Lieutenant had repaired the gap in the palisade and trench.
He had extended both, intending to take them all the way around,
despite the difficulty of the nether slope. New, heavier missile
weapons were under construction.
He was not content to rely upon the Taken to reduce the place.
He did not trust them to do the necessary.
Sometime during my brief sleep, drafts of Candy’s
prisoners came up. But the Lieutenant did not permit the civilians
to leave. He put them to gathering earth while he scoped out a site
for building a ramp.
I suggested, “You’d better get some
sleep.”
“Need to ride herd,” he said. He had a vision. His
talent had gone unused for years. He wanted this. I suspect he
found the Taken an irritation, despite the formidable nature of the
black castle.
“It’s your show,” I said. “But you
won’t be much good if they hit back and you’re too
exhausted to think straight.”
We were communicating on a level outside words. Weariness had us
all fragmented and choppy, neither our thoughts nor actions nor
speech moving logically or linearly. He nodded curtly.
“You’re right.” He surveyed the slope.
“Seems to be clicking. I’ll go down to the hospital.
Have somebody get me if something happens.”
The hospital tent was the nearest place out of the sun. It was a
bright, clear, intense day, promising to be unseasonably warm. I
looked forward to that. I was tired of shivering. “Will
do.”
He was right about things running smoothly. They usually do once
the men know what has to be done.
From the viewpoint of the Limper, who again had the air patrol,
the slope must have looked like an overturned anthill. Six hundred
Company troops were supervising the efforts of ten times as many
men from the city. The road uphill carried so much traffic it was
being destroyed. Despite the night’s excitement and their
lack of sleep, I found the men in excellent spirits.
They had been on the march so long, doing nothing else, that
they had developed a big store of violent energy. It was pouring
out now. They worked with an eagerness which infected the locals.
Those seemed pleased to participate in a task which required the
concerted efforts of thousands. Some of the more thoughtful
mentioned that Juniper had mounted no major communal effort in
generations. One man suggested that that was why the city had gone
to seed. He believed the Black Company and its attack on the black
castle would be great medicine for a moribund body politic.
That, however, was not a majority opinion. Candy’s
prisoners, especially, resented being used as a labor force. They
represented a strong potential for trouble.
I have been told I always look at the dark underbelly of
tomorrow. Possibly. You’re less likely to be disappointed
that way.
The excitement I expected did not materialize for days. The
castle creatures seemed to have pulled their hole in after them. We
eased the pace slightly, ceased working as if everything had to be
done before tomorrow.
The Lieutenant completed the circumvallation, including the back
slope, looping around One-Eye’s excavation. He then broke the
front wall and began building his ramp. He did not use many
mantlets, for he designed it to provide its own shielding. It rose
steeply at our end, with steps constructed of stone from demolished
buildings. The work crews downtown were now pulling down structures
ruined in the fire following Feather’s crash. There were more
materials than could be used in the siege. Candy’s outfit was
salvaging the best to use in new housing planned for the cleared
sites.
The ramp would rise till it overtopped the castle by twenty
feet, then it would descend to the wall. The work went faster than
I expected. So did One-Eye’s project. He found a combination
of spells which turned stone soft enough to be worked easily. He
soon reached a point beneath the castle.
Then he ran into the material that looked like obsidian. And
could go no farther. So he started spreading out.
The Captain himself came over. I had been wondering what he was
doing. I asked.
“Finding ways to keep people busy,” he said. He
shambled around erratically. If we did not pay attention, we found
ourselves wandering off after he made some sudden turn and went to
inspect something apparently trivial. “Damned Whisper is
turning me into a military governor.”
“Uhm?”
“What, Croaker?”
“I’m the Annalist, remember? Got to get this all
down somewhere.”
He frowned, eyeballed a barrel of water set aside for animals.
Water was a problem. A lot had to be hauled to augment the little
we caught during the occasional shower. “She has me running
the city. Doing what the Duke and city fathers should.” He
kicked a rock and said nothing more till it stopped rolling.
“Guess I’m coping. Isn’t anybody in town who
isn’t working. Aren’t getting paid anything but keep,
but they’re working. Even got people lined up with projects
they want done as long as we’re making people work. The
Custodians are driving me crazy. Can’t tell them all their
clean-ups may be pointless.”
I caught an odd note in that. It underscored a feeling I’d
had already, that he was depressed about what was happening.
“Why’s that?”
He glanced around. No natives were within earshot. “Just a
guess, mind. Nobody’s put it in words. But I think the Lady
plans to loot the Catacombs.”
“People aren’t going to like that.”
“I know. You know; I know; even Whisper and Limper know.
But we don’t give the orders. There’s talk about how
the Lady is short of money.”
In all the years we’d been in her service we’d never
missed a payday. The Lady played that straight. The troops got
paid, be they mercenaries or regulars. I suspect the various
outfits could tolerate a few delays. It’s almost a tradition
for commanders to screw their troops occasionally.
Most of us didn’t much care about money, anyway. We tended
toward inexpensive and limited tastes. I suppose attitudes would
shift if we had to do without, though.
“Too many men under arms on too many frontiers,” the
Captain mused. “Too much expansion too fast for too long. The
empire can’t take the strain. The effort in the Barrowland
ate up her reserves. And it’s still going. If she whips the
Dominator, look for things to change.”
“Maybe we made a mistake, eh?”
“Made a lot. Which one are you talking about?”
“Coming north, over the Sea of Torments.”
“Yes. I’ve known that for years.”
“And?”
“And we can’t get out. Not yet. Someday, maybe, when
our orders take us back to the Jewel Cities, or somewhere where we
could leave the empire and still find ourselves in a civilized
country.” There was an almost bottomless yearning in his
voice. “The longer I spend in the north, the less I want to
end my days here, Croaker. Put that in your Annals.”
I had him talking, a rare occurrence. I merely grunted, hoping
he would continue filling the silence. He did. “We’re
running with the darkness, Croaker. I know that don’t make no
never-mind, really. Logically. We’re the Black Company.
We’re not good or evil. We’re just soldiers with
swords for sale. But I’m tired of having our work turned to
wicked ends. If this looting thing happens, I may step aside. Raven
had the right idea back at Charm. He got the hell out.”
I then set forth a notion that had been in the back of my mind
for years. One I’d never taken seriously, knowing it
quixotic. “That doesn’t contribute anything, Captain.
We also have the option of going the other way.”
“Eh?” He came back from whatever faraway place ruled
him and really looked at me. “Don’t be silly, Croaker.
That’s a fool’s game. The Lady squashes anybody who
tries.” He ground a heel into the earth. “Like a
bug.”
“Yeah.” It was a silly idea, on several levels, not
the least of which was that the other side could not afford us. I
could not picture us in the Rebel role anyway. The majority of
Rebels were idiots, fools or ambitious types hoping to grab a chunk
of what the Lady had. Darling was the outstanding exception, and
she was more symbol than substance, and a secret symbol at
that.
“Eight years since the comet was in the sky,” the
Captain said. “You know the legends. She won’t fall
till the Great Comet is up there. You want to try surviving
twenty-nine years on the run from the Taken? No, Croaker. Even if
our hearts were with the White Rose, we couldn’t make that
choice. That’s suicide. Getting out of the empire is the
way.”
“She’d come after us.”
“Why? Why shouldn’t she be satisfied with what
she’s had of us these ten years? We’re no threat to
her.”
But we were. We very much were, if only because we knew of the
existence of the reincarnation of the White Rose. And I was sure
that, once we left the empire, either Silent or I would spill that
secret. Of course, the Lady did not know that we knew.
“This chatter is an exercise in futility,” the
Captain said. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
“As you wish. Tell me what we’re going to do
here.”
“The Lady is coming in tonight. Whisper says we’ll
begin the assault as soon as the auspices are right.”
I glanced at the black castle.
“No,” he said. “It won’t be easy. It may
not be possible, even with the Lady helping.”
“If she asks about me, tell her I’m dead. Or
something,” I said.
That won a smile. “But, Croaker, she’s
your . . . ”
“Raven,” I snapped. “I know things about him
that could get us all killed. So does Silent. Get him out of
Duretile before she gets here. Neither one of us dares face the
Eye.”
“For that, neither do I. Because I know you know
something. We’re going to have to take our chances,
Croaker.”
“Right. So don’t put notions into her
head.”
“I expect she’s forgotten you long since, Croaker.
You’re just another soldier.”
I caught a two-hour nap. The Lieutenant allowed half the troops
and workers the same, then the other half. When I wakened, I found
few changes, except that the Captain had sent Pockets over to
establish a field hospital. Pockets had been down in the Buskin,
trying to win friends with free medical attention. I looked in,
found only a handful of patients and the situation under control,
went on to check the siegework.
The Lieutenant had repaired the gap in the palisade and trench.
He had extended both, intending to take them all the way around,
despite the difficulty of the nether slope. New, heavier missile
weapons were under construction.
He was not content to rely upon the Taken to reduce the place.
He did not trust them to do the necessary.
Sometime during my brief sleep, drafts of Candy’s
prisoners came up. But the Lieutenant did not permit the civilians
to leave. He put them to gathering earth while he scoped out a site
for building a ramp.
I suggested, “You’d better get some
sleep.”
“Need to ride herd,” he said. He had a vision. His
talent had gone unused for years. He wanted this. I suspect he
found the Taken an irritation, despite the formidable nature of the
black castle.
“It’s your show,” I said. “But you
won’t be much good if they hit back and you’re too
exhausted to think straight.”
We were communicating on a level outside words. Weariness had us
all fragmented and choppy, neither our thoughts nor actions nor
speech moving logically or linearly. He nodded curtly.
“You’re right.” He surveyed the slope.
“Seems to be clicking. I’ll go down to the hospital.
Have somebody get me if something happens.”
The hospital tent was the nearest place out of the sun. It was a
bright, clear, intense day, promising to be unseasonably warm. I
looked forward to that. I was tired of shivering. “Will
do.”
He was right about things running smoothly. They usually do once
the men know what has to be done.
From the viewpoint of the Limper, who again had the air patrol,
the slope must have looked like an overturned anthill. Six hundred
Company troops were supervising the efforts of ten times as many
men from the city. The road uphill carried so much traffic it was
being destroyed. Despite the night’s excitement and their
lack of sleep, I found the men in excellent spirits.
They had been on the march so long, doing nothing else, that
they had developed a big store of violent energy. It was pouring
out now. They worked with an eagerness which infected the locals.
Those seemed pleased to participate in a task which required the
concerted efforts of thousands. Some of the more thoughtful
mentioned that Juniper had mounted no major communal effort in
generations. One man suggested that that was why the city had gone
to seed. He believed the Black Company and its attack on the black
castle would be great medicine for a moribund body politic.
That, however, was not a majority opinion. Candy’s
prisoners, especially, resented being used as a labor force. They
represented a strong potential for trouble.
I have been told I always look at the dark underbelly of
tomorrow. Possibly. You’re less likely to be disappointed
that way.
The excitement I expected did not materialize for days. The
castle creatures seemed to have pulled their hole in after them. We
eased the pace slightly, ceased working as if everything had to be
done before tomorrow.
The Lieutenant completed the circumvallation, including the back
slope, looping around One-Eye’s excavation. He then broke the
front wall and began building his ramp. He did not use many
mantlets, for he designed it to provide its own shielding. It rose
steeply at our end, with steps constructed of stone from demolished
buildings. The work crews downtown were now pulling down structures
ruined in the fire following Feather’s crash. There were more
materials than could be used in the siege. Candy’s outfit was
salvaging the best to use in new housing planned for the cleared
sites.
The ramp would rise till it overtopped the castle by twenty
feet, then it would descend to the wall. The work went faster than
I expected. So did One-Eye’s project. He found a combination
of spells which turned stone soft enough to be worked easily. He
soon reached a point beneath the castle.
Then he ran into the material that looked like obsidian. And
could go no farther. So he started spreading out.
The Captain himself came over. I had been wondering what he was
doing. I asked.
“Finding ways to keep people busy,” he said. He
shambled around erratically. If we did not pay attention, we found
ourselves wandering off after he made some sudden turn and went to
inspect something apparently trivial. “Damned Whisper is
turning me into a military governor.”
“Uhm?”
“What, Croaker?”
“I’m the Annalist, remember? Got to get this all
down somewhere.”
He frowned, eyeballed a barrel of water set aside for animals.
Water was a problem. A lot had to be hauled to augment the little
we caught during the occasional shower. “She has me running
the city. Doing what the Duke and city fathers should.” He
kicked a rock and said nothing more till it stopped rolling.
“Guess I’m coping. Isn’t anybody in town who
isn’t working. Aren’t getting paid anything but keep,
but they’re working. Even got people lined up with projects
they want done as long as we’re making people work. The
Custodians are driving me crazy. Can’t tell them all their
clean-ups may be pointless.”
I caught an odd note in that. It underscored a feeling I’d
had already, that he was depressed about what was happening.
“Why’s that?”
He glanced around. No natives were within earshot. “Just a
guess, mind. Nobody’s put it in words. But I think the Lady
plans to loot the Catacombs.”
“People aren’t going to like that.”
“I know. You know; I know; even Whisper and Limper know.
But we don’t give the orders. There’s talk about how
the Lady is short of money.”
In all the years we’d been in her service we’d never
missed a payday. The Lady played that straight. The troops got
paid, be they mercenaries or regulars. I suspect the various
outfits could tolerate a few delays. It’s almost a tradition
for commanders to screw their troops occasionally.
Most of us didn’t much care about money, anyway. We tended
toward inexpensive and limited tastes. I suppose attitudes would
shift if we had to do without, though.
“Too many men under arms on too many frontiers,” the
Captain mused. “Too much expansion too fast for too long. The
empire can’t take the strain. The effort in the Barrowland
ate up her reserves. And it’s still going. If she whips the
Dominator, look for things to change.”
“Maybe we made a mistake, eh?”
“Made a lot. Which one are you talking about?”
“Coming north, over the Sea of Torments.”
“Yes. I’ve known that for years.”
“And?”
“And we can’t get out. Not yet. Someday, maybe, when
our orders take us back to the Jewel Cities, or somewhere where we
could leave the empire and still find ourselves in a civilized
country.” There was an almost bottomless yearning in his
voice. “The longer I spend in the north, the less I want to
end my days here, Croaker. Put that in your Annals.”
I had him talking, a rare occurrence. I merely grunted, hoping
he would continue filling the silence. He did. “We’re
running with the darkness, Croaker. I know that don’t make no
never-mind, really. Logically. We’re the Black Company.
We’re not good or evil. We’re just soldiers with
swords for sale. But I’m tired of having our work turned to
wicked ends. If this looting thing happens, I may step aside. Raven
had the right idea back at Charm. He got the hell out.”
I then set forth a notion that had been in the back of my mind
for years. One I’d never taken seriously, knowing it
quixotic. “That doesn’t contribute anything, Captain.
We also have the option of going the other way.”
“Eh?” He came back from whatever faraway place ruled
him and really looked at me. “Don’t be silly, Croaker.
That’s a fool’s game. The Lady squashes anybody who
tries.” He ground a heel into the earth. “Like a
bug.”
“Yeah.” It was a silly idea, on several levels, not
the least of which was that the other side could not afford us. I
could not picture us in the Rebel role anyway. The majority of
Rebels were idiots, fools or ambitious types hoping to grab a chunk
of what the Lady had. Darling was the outstanding exception, and
she was more symbol than substance, and a secret symbol at
that.
“Eight years since the comet was in the sky,” the
Captain said. “You know the legends. She won’t fall
till the Great Comet is up there. You want to try surviving
twenty-nine years on the run from the Taken? No, Croaker. Even if
our hearts were with the White Rose, we couldn’t make that
choice. That’s suicide. Getting out of the empire is the
way.”
“She’d come after us.”
“Why? Why shouldn’t she be satisfied with what
she’s had of us these ten years? We’re no threat to
her.”
But we were. We very much were, if only because we knew of the
existence of the reincarnation of the White Rose. And I was sure
that, once we left the empire, either Silent or I would spill that
secret. Of course, the Lady did not know that we knew.
“This chatter is an exercise in futility,” the
Captain said. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
“As you wish. Tell me what we’re going to do
here.”
“The Lady is coming in tonight. Whisper says we’ll
begin the assault as soon as the auspices are right.”
I glanced at the black castle.
“No,” he said. “It won’t be easy. It may
not be possible, even with the Lady helping.”
“If she asks about me, tell her I’m dead. Or
something,” I said.
That won a smile. “But, Croaker, she’s
your . . . ”
“Raven,” I snapped. “I know things about him
that could get us all killed. So does Silent. Get him out of
Duretile before she gets here. Neither one of us dares face the
Eye.”
“For that, neither do I. Because I know you know
something. We’re going to have to take our chances,
Croaker.”
“Right. So don’t put notions into her
head.”
“I expect she’s forgotten you long since, Croaker.
You’re just another soldier.”