Murgen was there
when Soulcatcher received the news. The report reached the Palace
in a remarkably short time and was unusually complete. The Greys
worked hard to please their mistress.
The party bringing Gokhale to the warehouse had not yet
arrived.
Murgen had been asked to look around the Protector’s
quarters while he was there. We knew nothing about them. Nobody
ever went into her suite. Not since Willow Swan had gone to his
reward.
Murgen would have to be questioned about how she lived in
private.
Soulcatcher did not retreat there, however. She went out looking
for the Radisha right away.
The Radisha knew something had happened to Gokhale but she had
not had detailed reports. The women settled in the receiving
chamber of the Radisha’s austere suite. Soulcatcher told
what she knew. She used a very businesslike voice. It was said
sometimes that the Protector was her most dangerous and least
stable when she stopped being capricious and seemed calmest and
most serious.
“It seems the Inspector-General shared some habits with
Perhule Khoji. In fact, I’m now assured that his particular
weakness was common amongst the senior men of his
ministry.”
“There were rumors.”
“And you did nothing?”
“Chandra Gokhale’s private amusements, loathsome as
I found them personally, did not prevent his performing perfectly
as Inspector-General of the Records. He was particularly adept at
generating revenue.”
“Indeed.” Soulcatcher’s businesslike manner
wavered momentarily. Murgen would report his amusement at the
thought she might actually have a moral opinion. “He was
attacked in the same manner as Khoji was.”
“Suggesting somebody might have a grudge against the
ministry as a whole? Or that the Deceivers pick men of his
particular weakness as ceremonial targets?”
“Deceivers didn’t kill Gokhale. Of that I’m
sure. This was done by the people who lured Swan out and killed
him. If they killed him.”
“If?” The Radisha was startled by the implication.
“We saw no corpse. Note that we have no body this time,
either. Men disguised as our men were right there to haul the body
away. That’s two members of the Privy Council lost in less
than a week. Organizationally, they were the most important. They
made the machinery work. If the Great General was anywhere nearby,
I’d predict that he would be their next target. That gaggle
of priests means nothing. They do nothing. They control nothing. My
sister proved that if they’re killed, they can be replaced by
other do-nothings within minutes. Nobody can replace Swan or
Gokhale. The Greys are beginning to unravel already.”
Murgen made a mental note to mention that Willow Swan might have
been less a puppet than he led the world to believe.
“Why couldn’t it be the Stranglers?” the
Radisha asked.
“Because those people cut the head off that
particular serpent the other day.” She described events in
the Thieves’ Garden. Obviously, she had not bothered to share
the news before. It was clear that the Protector considered the
Princess a necessary but junior partner in her enterprise.
“In a matter of days these people, whom we thought ruined
forever, have cut the head off one enemy and have crippled the
other seriously. There is a dangerous mind behind this.”
Not dangerous at all. Not even that lucky. But a sufficiently
paranoid mind will discern patterns and threats where only fortune
has conspired. Soulcatcher was ever alert for evils as great as her
own.
“We knew they couldn’t remain in the darkness
forever,” the Radisha said. She corrected herself hastily,
“I knew. The Captain reminded me often enough.” She did
not need to bring up the past and her belief in mistakes she had
made. That devil was buried deep, hundreds of miles away. A much
more immediate danger was right there in the room with her.
The Protector was a mistake she had abandoned hope of living
long enough to correct. Blind to the consequences at the time, she
had chosen to mount the tiger. Now her sole choice was to hang on
for the rest of the ride.
Soulcatcher said, “We have to recall the Great General. If
we can get his troops into the city before our enemies make their
next move, we’ll have the manpower to hunt them down. You
should send the orders immediately. And once the courier is safely
off, we should announce that the Great General is returning. Their
special dislike for Mogaba should cause them to delay their other
plans till they can gather him in as well.”
“You think you know what they’ll do?”
“I know what I’d do if I came down with the kind of
sudden, burning ambition that seems to have taken them over. I
wonder if there hasn’t been some kind of coup or
something?”
Exasperated, the Radisha demanded, “What will they do
next?”
“I’ll keep that to myself for now. Not that I
don’t trust you.” Soulcatcher probably had abiding
suspicions about herself. “I just want to make sure
I’ve identified enough of a pattern to begin tapping into the
workings of this new mind. I’m quite talented at that, you
know.”
The Radisha knew, to her own despair. She said nothing.
Soulcatcher sat silently herself, as though waiting for the
Princess to speak. But the Radisha had nothing to say.
The Protector mused, “I wonder who it could be? I knew the
wizards of old. Neither one has the ambition or imagination or
drive, even though both do have the hardness.”
The Radisha made a squeak of sound. “The
wizards?”
“The two little men. The day-and-night pair. They
aren’t much of anything but lucky.”
“They survived?”
“I said they’re lucky. Do you recall anyone who
didn’t go onto the plain who looked like a potential leader?
I don’t.”
“I thought all those people were
dead.”
“As did I, in most cases. Our Great General
claims to have seen most of their bodies personally. But the Great
General identified them assuming that the two wizards had been
killed first. Hmm. Here I had begun to be suspicious of him.
Perhaps his only crime is that he’s a fool. Can you think of
anyone?”
“Not inside the Company I knew. But there was a Nyueng Bao
who had something to do with the Standardbearer’s wife. A
priest of some sort. He seemed to be totally obsessed with weapons
and the martial arts. I ran into him only a few times. And
he’s never been accounted for in any reports.”
“A Master of the Path of the Sword? That would explain a
lot. But I killed them all when I—Have you noticed how people keep
turning up alive when there’s every reason to believe that
they’re dead?”
An actual smile tried to gnaw its way out of the Radisha’s
mouth. The woman talking could be considered the mother of all
those whose deaths had been celebrated prematurely.
“There’s sorcery afoot. Nothing should be any great
surprise.”
“You’re right. You’re absolutely right. And
that’s a blade that can have more than one edge.”
Soulcatcher rose to leave. Her voice changed, became cruel.
“More than one edge. A Master of the Path of the Sword.
It’s been a long time since I visited those people. They may
be able to tell me something useful.” She stalked out of the
room.
The Radisha remained motionless for several minutes, clearly
troubled. Then she got up and went to her Anger Chamber. She
settled herself there. The unseen spy went after the Protector.
She, he discovered, had gone directly to the ramparts. She
assembled her small, single-rider carpet, all the while arguing
with herself in a dozen querulous voices.
He barely listened. He
was too surprised and shocked.
There was a white crow up there. It was watching the Protector,
who remained unaware of Murgen’s presence although,
historically, she had been more sensitive to him than to any of the
living except her sister. But the bird had no trouble seeing
Murgen. It examined him with first one eye, then with the other.
Then it winked deliberately. And then it launched itself into the
night when the Protector’s rookery took flight to accompany
her on her travels. But I am the white crow!
The disorientation was brief but as frightening as it had been
years ago, when first Murgen had started stumbling around outside
his flesh.
Murgen was there
when Soulcatcher received the news. The report reached the Palace
in a remarkably short time and was unusually complete. The Greys
worked hard to please their mistress.
The party bringing Gokhale to the warehouse had not yet
arrived.
Murgen had been asked to look around the Protector’s
quarters while he was there. We knew nothing about them. Nobody
ever went into her suite. Not since Willow Swan had gone to his
reward.
Murgen would have to be questioned about how she lived in
private.
Soulcatcher did not retreat there, however. She went out looking
for the Radisha right away.
The Radisha knew something had happened to Gokhale but she had
not had detailed reports. The women settled in the receiving
chamber of the Radisha’s austere suite. Soulcatcher told
what she knew. She used a very businesslike voice. It was said
sometimes that the Protector was her most dangerous and least
stable when she stopped being capricious and seemed calmest and
most serious.
“It seems the Inspector-General shared some habits with
Perhule Khoji. In fact, I’m now assured that his particular
weakness was common amongst the senior men of his
ministry.”
“There were rumors.”
“And you did nothing?”
“Chandra Gokhale’s private amusements, loathsome as
I found them personally, did not prevent his performing perfectly
as Inspector-General of the Records. He was particularly adept at
generating revenue.”
“Indeed.” Soulcatcher’s businesslike manner
wavered momentarily. Murgen would report his amusement at the
thought she might actually have a moral opinion. “He was
attacked in the same manner as Khoji was.”
“Suggesting somebody might have a grudge against the
ministry as a whole? Or that the Deceivers pick men of his
particular weakness as ceremonial targets?”
“Deceivers didn’t kill Gokhale. Of that I’m
sure. This was done by the people who lured Swan out and killed
him. If they killed him.”
“If?” The Radisha was startled by the implication.
“We saw no corpse. Note that we have no body this time,
either. Men disguised as our men were right there to haul the body
away. That’s two members of the Privy Council lost in less
than a week. Organizationally, they were the most important. They
made the machinery work. If the Great General was anywhere nearby,
I’d predict that he would be their next target. That gaggle
of priests means nothing. They do nothing. They control nothing. My
sister proved that if they’re killed, they can be replaced by
other do-nothings within minutes. Nobody can replace Swan or
Gokhale. The Greys are beginning to unravel already.”
Murgen made a mental note to mention that Willow Swan might have
been less a puppet than he led the world to believe.
“Why couldn’t it be the Stranglers?” the
Radisha asked.
“Because those people cut the head off that
particular serpent the other day.” She described events in
the Thieves’ Garden. Obviously, she had not bothered to share
the news before. It was clear that the Protector considered the
Princess a necessary but junior partner in her enterprise.
“In a matter of days these people, whom we thought ruined
forever, have cut the head off one enemy and have crippled the
other seriously. There is a dangerous mind behind this.”
Not dangerous at all. Not even that lucky. But a sufficiently
paranoid mind will discern patterns and threats where only fortune
has conspired. Soulcatcher was ever alert for evils as great as her
own.
“We knew they couldn’t remain in the darkness
forever,” the Radisha said. She corrected herself hastily,
“I knew. The Captain reminded me often enough.” She did
not need to bring up the past and her belief in mistakes she had
made. That devil was buried deep, hundreds of miles away. A much
more immediate danger was right there in the room with her.
The Protector was a mistake she had abandoned hope of living
long enough to correct. Blind to the consequences at the time, she
had chosen to mount the tiger. Now her sole choice was to hang on
for the rest of the ride.
Soulcatcher said, “We have to recall the Great General. If
we can get his troops into the city before our enemies make their
next move, we’ll have the manpower to hunt them down. You
should send the orders immediately. And once the courier is safely
off, we should announce that the Great General is returning. Their
special dislike for Mogaba should cause them to delay their other
plans till they can gather him in as well.”
“You think you know what they’ll do?”
“I know what I’d do if I came down with the kind of
sudden, burning ambition that seems to have taken them over. I
wonder if there hasn’t been some kind of coup or
something?”
Exasperated, the Radisha demanded, “What will they do
next?”
“I’ll keep that to myself for now. Not that I
don’t trust you.” Soulcatcher probably had abiding
suspicions about herself. “I just want to make sure
I’ve identified enough of a pattern to begin tapping into the
workings of this new mind. I’m quite talented at that, you
know.”
The Radisha knew, to her own despair. She said nothing.
Soulcatcher sat silently herself, as though waiting for the
Princess to speak. But the Radisha had nothing to say.
The Protector mused, “I wonder who it could be? I knew the
wizards of old. Neither one has the ambition or imagination or
drive, even though both do have the hardness.”
The Radisha made a squeak of sound. “The
wizards?”
“The two little men. The day-and-night pair. They
aren’t much of anything but lucky.”
“They survived?”
“I said they’re lucky. Do you recall anyone who
didn’t go onto the plain who looked like a potential leader?
I don’t.”
“I thought all those people were
dead.”
“As did I, in most cases. Our Great General
claims to have seen most of their bodies personally. But the Great
General identified them assuming that the two wizards had been
killed first. Hmm. Here I had begun to be suspicious of him.
Perhaps his only crime is that he’s a fool. Can you think of
anyone?”
“Not inside the Company I knew. But there was a Nyueng Bao
who had something to do with the Standardbearer’s wife. A
priest of some sort. He seemed to be totally obsessed with weapons
and the martial arts. I ran into him only a few times. And
he’s never been accounted for in any reports.”
“A Master of the Path of the Sword? That would explain a
lot. But I killed them all when I—Have you noticed how people keep
turning up alive when there’s every reason to believe that
they’re dead?”
An actual smile tried to gnaw its way out of the Radisha’s
mouth. The woman talking could be considered the mother of all
those whose deaths had been celebrated prematurely.
“There’s sorcery afoot. Nothing should be any great
surprise.”
“You’re right. You’re absolutely right. And
that’s a blade that can have more than one edge.”
Soulcatcher rose to leave. Her voice changed, became cruel.
“More than one edge. A Master of the Path of the Sword.
It’s been a long time since I visited those people. They may
be able to tell me something useful.” She stalked out of the
room.
The Radisha remained motionless for several minutes, clearly
troubled. Then she got up and went to her Anger Chamber. She
settled herself there. The unseen spy went after the Protector.
She, he discovered, had gone directly to the ramparts. She
assembled her small, single-rider carpet, all the while arguing
with herself in a dozen querulous voices.
He barely listened. He
was too surprised and shocked.
There was a white crow up there. It was watching the Protector,
who remained unaware of Murgen’s presence although,
historically, she had been more sensitive to him than to any of the
living except her sister. But the bird had no trouble seeing
Murgen. It examined him with first one eye, then with the other.
Then it winked deliberately. And then it launched itself into the
night when the Protector’s rookery took flight to accompany
her on her travels. But I am the white crow!
The disorientation was brief but as frightening as it had been
years ago, when first Murgen had started stumbling around outside
his flesh.