him—if he didn’t open up, as he hinted he might.
For the moment he was too useful to press.
* * *
I nodded approval. “They almost look like soldiers.” We’d have to get them uniform dress.
Narayan nodded. He seemed smug, as though his genius had produced our triumph and sparked a renascent spirit.
“How’re the riding lessons coming?” Just making talk. I knew. Abysmally. None of these clowns belonged to a caste that got closer to a horse than to trail along behind cleaning up. But, damn, it would be a sin to waste those mounts.
“Poorly. Though a few men show promise. Not including myself or Ram. We were born to walk.”
“Show promise” had become his favorite expression. In reference to everything. As he taught me to use the strangler’s kerchief, or rumel, at my insistence, he said I showed promise.
I suspected he was surprised at how easily I picked it up. Its manipulation came as naturally as breathing, as though it was a skill I’d had all along. Maybe it came of centuries of practice at the quick, subtle gestures needed to manipulate sorceries.
“You were saying you were going to move?” Narayan asked. “Mistress.” The honorific was becoming an afterthought. Narayan remained Taglian. He was beginning to take me for granted.
“Our foragers are having to range pretty far.”
Narayan didn’t reply but seemed reluctant to go.
I had a feeling I was being watched. At first I credited it to the crows. They kept me uncomfortable. Now I understood Croaker’s reaction better. They didn’t behave the way crows ought. I’d mentioned them to Narayan. He’d grinned and called them a good omen.
Meaning they were a bad omen for someone else.
I scanned our surroundings. The crows were there, in their scores, but … “Narayan, collect the dozen best horsemen. I’m taking a patrol out.”
“But … Do you think…?”
How could I get through? “I’m no garden rose. I’m taking a patrol out.”
“As you command, Mistress, so shall it be.”
It had better, Narayan. It had better.
Chapter Thirteen
Swan glanced at Blade. The black man’s attitude toward Smoke had grown from disdain into contempt. The wizard had no more spine than a worm. He shook like a leaf.
Cordy said, “That’s her.”
Swan nodded. He grinned but kept his thoughts to himself. “She’s putting something together. That gang is more organized than any I’ve seen down here.”
They backed off the knoll from which they’d been watching the camp. Blade said, “We going to drop in?” He had hold of the wizard’s sleeve like he expected the runt to run.
“Not yet. I want to circle around, check it out down south. Shouldn’t be that far to where they hit the Shadowmasters’ men. I want to see the place. If we can find it.”
Cordy asked, “Think they know we’re here?”
“What?” The idea startled Swan.
“You said they’re organized. Nobody ever accused the Lady of not being efficient. She should have pickets out.”
Swan thought. No one had entered or left the camp, but Mather had a point. If they wanted to remain unnoticed they’d better move on. “You’re right. Let’s go. Blade, you were down here before. Know how to cross that creek somewhere that’s not too far out of the way?”
Blade nodded. In those desperate days before the Black Company picked up the reins he’d led guerrillas behind the Shadowmasters’ main forces.
“Lead on. Smoke, old buddy, I wish I could get a peek inside your head. I never seen anybody so ready to drizzle down his leg.”
The wizard said nothing.
Blade found a game ford three miles east of the south road, led the way through woods narrower than Swan expected. When they reached the southern side, Blade said, “Road’s two miles that way.”
“I figured.” The sky was dark with buzzards. “That’s where we’ll find our dead men.”
That was the place.
The air was still. The stench hung like a poisonous miasma. Neither Swan nor Mather
For the moment he was too useful to press.
* * *
I nodded approval. “They almost look like soldiers.” We’d have to get them uniform dress.
Narayan nodded. He seemed smug, as though his genius had produced our triumph and sparked a renascent spirit.
“How’re the riding lessons coming?” Just making talk. I knew. Abysmally. None of these clowns belonged to a caste that got closer to a horse than to trail along behind cleaning up. But, damn, it would be a sin to waste those mounts.
“Poorly. Though a few men show promise. Not including myself or Ram. We were born to walk.”
“Show promise” had become his favorite expression. In reference to everything. As he taught me to use the strangler’s kerchief, or rumel, at my insistence, he said I showed promise.
I suspected he was surprised at how easily I picked it up. Its manipulation came as naturally as breathing, as though it was a skill I’d had all along. Maybe it came of centuries of practice at the quick, subtle gestures needed to manipulate sorceries.
“You were saying you were going to move?” Narayan asked. “Mistress.” The honorific was becoming an afterthought. Narayan remained Taglian. He was beginning to take me for granted.
“Our foragers are having to range pretty far.”
Narayan didn’t reply but seemed reluctant to go.
I had a feeling I was being watched. At first I credited it to the crows. They kept me uncomfortable. Now I understood Croaker’s reaction better. They didn’t behave the way crows ought. I’d mentioned them to Narayan. He’d grinned and called them a good omen.
Meaning they were a bad omen for someone else.
I scanned our surroundings. The crows were there, in their scores, but … “Narayan, collect the dozen best horsemen. I’m taking a patrol out.”
“But … Do you think…?”
How could I get through? “I’m no garden rose. I’m taking a patrol out.”
“As you command, Mistress, so shall it be.”
It had better, Narayan. It had better.
Chapter Thirteen
Swan glanced at Blade. The black man’s attitude toward Smoke had grown from disdain into contempt. The wizard had no more spine than a worm. He shook like a leaf.
Cordy said, “That’s her.”
Swan nodded. He grinned but kept his thoughts to himself. “She’s putting something together. That gang is more organized than any I’ve seen down here.”
They backed off the knoll from which they’d been watching the camp. Blade said, “We going to drop in?” He had hold of the wizard’s sleeve like he expected the runt to run.
“Not yet. I want to circle around, check it out down south. Shouldn’t be that far to where they hit the Shadowmasters’ men. I want to see the place. If we can find it.”
Cordy asked, “Think they know we’re here?”
“What?” The idea startled Swan.
“You said they’re organized. Nobody ever accused the Lady of not being efficient. She should have pickets out.”
Swan thought. No one had entered or left the camp, but Mather had a point. If they wanted to remain unnoticed they’d better move on. “You’re right. Let’s go. Blade, you were down here before. Know how to cross that creek somewhere that’s not too far out of the way?”
Blade nodded. In those desperate days before the Black Company picked up the reins he’d led guerrillas behind the Shadowmasters’ main forces.
“Lead on. Smoke, old buddy, I wish I could get a peek inside your head. I never seen anybody so ready to drizzle down his leg.”
The wizard said nothing.
Blade found a game ford three miles east of the south road, led the way through woods narrower than Swan expected. When they reached the southern side, Blade said, “Road’s two miles that way.”
“I figured.” The sky was dark with buzzards. “That’s where we’ll find our dead men.”
That was the place.
The air was still. The stench hung like a poisonous miasma. Neither Swan nor Mather
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