Water Sleeps (15 page)

M urgen 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.

I said, “Better get Uncle Doj before we go any farther with this, Tobo.” I
spotted Kendo Cutter and Runmust. “You guys finally back? How did it go?”

“Perfect. Just like you planned it.”

Sahra asked, “You have my present?”

“They’re lugging him in now. He’s still out cold.”

“Drop him right here where I can chat with him when he comes around.” Sahra had
a wicked gleam in her eye.

I chuckled. “Soulcatcher thinks we’re following some grand, carefully
orchestrated master plan exquisitely fashioned by a great strategic mastermind.

If she knew we were just stumbling around in the dark hoping we stay lucky until
we can open the way for the Captured—”

One-Eye barked, “You telling me you masterminds don’t got a next step ready to
go, Little Girl?”

“We have several.” I did. “And I’m sure the next one hasn’t ever occurred to
Soulcatcher as being within the realm of possibility. I’m going to bring Master
Santaraksita home for supper and give him a chance to sign up for the adventure
of a lifetime.”

“Heh-heh! I knew it.”

Uncle Doj joined us. He was seriously peeved about the way he had been treated
lately.

I told him, “One of our friends just reported a conversation between The
Thousand Voices and the Radisha. The process of reasoning is beyond my
imagination but The Thousand Voices has decided that all her troubles recently
are the fault of a Master of the Path of the Sword who should’ve been killed a
long time ago. When last seen, she was off to visit the folks at the Vinh Gao
Ghang temple to ask about the man. You may be familiar with that temple.”

Doj lost color. His sword hand trembled for an instant. His right eyelid
twitched. He turned toward Sahra.

Sahra told him, “It’s true. What can she learn there?”

“Speak the tongue of The People.”

“No.”

The Master of the Path of the Sword accepted what he could not control. You
would have to say he was somewhat less than gracious about it, though, if you
wanted to report the whole truth.

I said, “You still have a book we want. And you could tell us a great deal that
we could use, I think.”

He was a stubborn old man. He was determined not to let me stampede him into
anything.

I said, “The Thousand Voices has sent for Mogaba. She means to have the army
come dig us out. If I could, I’d like to get out of Taglios before she starts.

But we have a lot to do and a lot to find out before we can go. Your help would
be invaluable. As I keep reminding you, you have people under that plain, too .

. . Huh?”

“What? Sleepy?” Sahra said. “Goblin! See what’s the matter with her!”

“I’m all right. I’m fine. I just had what you call an epiphany, I think. Listen.

All the evidence indicates that Soulcatcher thinks the Captured are dead. Which
would mean that she believes Longshadow is dead. We know he’s not, which is why
we’re not worried right now. But if she doesn’t know, why isn’t she amazed that
the world hasn’t been overrun by shadows?”

I got a lot of blank looks for my trouble, even from the wizards.

I said, “Look, what it means is, it doesn’t matter if Longshadow is dead or
alive after all. As long as he stays inside the Shadowgate. There isn’t a
doomsday sword hanging over the world, certain to fall when the madman croaks.

Somebody besides the cleverest wizards will survive.”

The less clever wizards caught on then. They brightened up dramatically. Not
that either had ever cared much what became of the world after they staggered
out of it.

What to do about the Shadowmaster had never been a significant issue to us
because there were always more immediate obstacles to overcome before he could
become a major concern.

Sahra said as much. “If we can’t open the way, there’s no point in worrying
about how we can keep it closed to those not in our favor.”

“I wonder how the Shadowmasters did it? Brute force? The Black Company was still
in the far north and the Lance of Passion was up there with them.” I stared at
Uncle Doj. Others began to do so, too. I wondered aloud, “Could it be that the
great shame of the Nyueng Bao isn’t nearly as ancient as I thought? Could it be
that it just goes back a couple of generations? To about the time that the
Shadowmasters appeared, practically manifesting themselves overnight?”

Uncle Doj closed his eyes. They stayed that way for a while. When the old priest
opened them again, he glared at me. “Come walking with me, Stone Soldier.”

Chandra Gokhale, Inspector-General of the Records and favorer of very young
girls, chose that moment to groan. I told Doj, “Indulge me for a few minutes,

Uncle. I have a guest to entertain. I promise not to take too long.”

Goblin knelt beside the minister, patted his face gently, helped Gokhale to a
sitting position. The Inspector-General began to puff up for a bluster storm. As
his mouth opened, I leaned down to whisper, “Water sleeps.”

Gokhale’s head jerked around. In a moment he recalled where he had seen me
before. Goblin told him, “All their days are numbered, buddy. And it looks like
some of you got a few less days than some others do.” Gokhale recognized him,

too, though he was supposed to be dead. And when he remembered where he had seen
Sahra before, he began to tremble.

Sahra asked, “Would you recall abusing Minh Subredil on several occasions?

Subredil certainly remembers. What I think we’ll do to requite that is to return
it fivefold. The brothers will install you in a tiger cage in a moment. You’ll
be well treated otherwise. And in a few days maybe we’ll bring in the Purohita
to keep you company.” She chuckled so wickedly I felt a chill. “For all the rest
of their days, calling the Heaven and the Earth and the Day and the Night, like
brothers, Chandra Gokhale and Arjuna Drupada.”

Part of that was some Nyueng Bao formula I didn’t understand. But I got the
point. And so did Gokhale. He would be caged all the rest of his days with the
man he most loathed.

Sahra chuckled again.

She made me nervous when she got like that.