Water Sleeps (30 page)

I stirred the fat officer with a toe. “Come on. Hop up here. We need to talk.

Spiff, let the rest of these people sit up as soon as their weapons are cleared
away. I’ll probably let them go home in a little while. Goblin, you want to go
face the music with Sahra? Get that out of the way so it isn’t just waiting for
a bad time to blow up on us?”

The fat officer got his feet under him. He looked very, very unhappy, which I
could understand. This was not his best day. I took hold of his arm. “Let’s you
and me take a walk.”

“You’re a woman.”

“Don’t let it go to your head. Do you have a name? How about a rank or title?”

He offered a regional name about a paragraph long, filled with the unmanageable
clicks that mess up a language otherwise already unfit for the normal human
tongue. As proof of my assertion, I offer my inability to manage it at much more
than a pidgin level despite having spent years in the area.

I picked out what sounded like it identified his personal place in the genealogy
of a nation. “I can call you Suvrin, then?” He winced. I got it after a moment.

Suvrin was a diminutive. No doubt he had not been called that by anyone but his
mother for twenty years.

Oh, well. I had a sword. He did not.

“Suvrin, you’ve probably heard rumors to the effect that we’re not nice people.

I want to put your mind at ease. Everything you’ve ever heard is true. But this
time we’re not here to loot and pillage and rape the livestock the way we did
last time. We’re really just passing through, we hope with minimal dislocation
for everybody, both us and you. What I need from you, assuming you’d rather
cooperate than lie in a grave being walked on by some replacement who will, is a
bit of official assistance aimed at hurrying us on our way. Have I been going
too fast for you?”

“No. I speak your language well.”

“That’s not what I—never mind. Here’s what’s happening. We’re going to go up on
the glittering plain—”

“Why?” Pure fear filled his voice. He and his ancestors had lived in terror of
the plain since the coming of the Shadowmasters.

I offered a bit of nonsense. “For the same reason the chicken crossed the road.

To get to the other side.”

Suvrin found that concept so novel he could think of no response.

I continued, “It’ll take us a while to get ready. We have to assemble provisions
and equipment. We have to scout some things. And not all of our people have
arrived yet. I’d just as soon not fight a war at the same time. So I want you to
tell me how to avoid that.”

Suvrin offered an inarticulate grumble.

“What’s that?”

“I never wanted to be in the army. My father’s doing. He wanted me away from the
family, someplace where I couldn’t embarrass him, but he also wanted me doing
something he felt to be in keeping with the family dignity. He thought if I was
a soldier, there’d be nothing I could mess up. We had no enemies who could
embarrass me.”

“Stuff happens. Your father should know that. He’s lived long enough to have a
grown-up son.”

“You don’t know my father.”

“You might be surprised. I’ve met plenty just like him. Probably some that were
way worse. There’s nothing new in this world, Suvrin. And that includes all
kinds of people. How many more soldiers are there around here? How many all told
on this side of the mountains? Do any of them have any special loyalty to
Taglios? Will they abandon Taglios if the pass is closed?” The Territories south
of the Dandha Presh were vast but weak. Longshadow had exploited them
mercilessly for more than a generation, then the Shadowmaster and Kiaulune wars
had devastated them.

“Uh . . . ” He wriggled but not hard. Just enough to satisfy his self-image.

We spent the remainder of the day together. Suvrin made the transitions from
grudging prisoner to nervous accomplice to helpful ally. He was easily led,

overresponding to modest praise and expressions of gratitude. My guess was that
he had not had many nice things said to him during his young life. And he was
scared to death that I would demolish him the instant he did fail to cooperate.

We sent the rest of the soldiers home as soon as our men stripped the New Town
armory. Most of the weapons stored there looked like they had been picked up off
old battlefields and treated with contempt ever since by the armorer whose work
I had so much admired earlier.

I found the man and drafted him. He was a prima donna, a master with an artist’s
attitude. I figured One-Eye could tame him.

Suvrin accompanied me when I went across to the farm Sahra had acquired. Poor
leader though he was, Suvrin really was in charge of all the armed forces in the
Kiaulune region. Which said very little for the quality of his men or for the
wisdom and commitment of his superiors. But I decided to keep him handy. He was
useful as a symbol, if nothing else.

When I went across I insisted that everyone else make the move, too. I wanted
everyone not out on picket duty or patrol in one place so we could respond
quickly, in strength, to any threat.

I told Suvrin, “I’ve neutralized the whole province except for that little fort
below the Shadowgate. Right?” That stronghold had sealed its gate. The men
inside would not respond to the messenger I sent.

Suvrin nodded. He was having second thoughts, too late.

“Will they leave if you tell them to go?”

“No. They’re foreigners. Left by the Great General to keep the road to the
Shadowgate closed.”

“How many?”

“Fourteen.”

“Good soldiers?”

Embarrassed, “Much better than mine.” Which might only mean that they could
march in step.

“Tell me about their fort. How are they set for water and provisions?”

The fat man hemmed and hawed.

“Suvrin, Suvrin. You have to think about this.”

“Uh . . . ”

“You can’t get in any deeper than you already are. You can only do your best to
get back out. Too many people have seen you cooperating already. I’m sorry,

buddy. You’re stuck.” I fought sliding into the character of Vajra the Naga,

seductive as it was. It was so blessedly useful.

Suvrin made a sound suspiciously like a whimper.

“Courage, Cousin Suvrin. We live with it every day. All you can do is put on a
death’s-head grin and tug on their beards and yank out their tail feathers. Here
we go. This looks like the place.” A poorly built structure had loomed out of
the darkness. Light leaked out through the roof and walls both. I wondered why
they bothered. Maybe it was still under construction. I could make out the vague
shapes of tents beyond it.

Something stirred on the rooftree as I pulled the door hanging aside so Suvrin
could enter. The white crow. A soft chuckle came from the bird. “Sister, sister.

Taglios begins to waken.” The thing took wing. I watched it fade in the light of
a rising fragment of moon. That had been pretty clear.

I shrugged and went inside. I could worry about the white crow next week, once I
finally got a chance to go to bed. “Are any of you guys aware that we’re at war?

That under similar circumstances every army since the dawn of time has put out
sentries to watch for people sneaking up?”

Several dozen faces watched me blandly. Goblin asked, “You didn’t see anybody?”

“There’s nothing out there to see, old man.”

“Ah. And you got here alive, too.” Which remark left me to understand that there
were dire traps out there, held in abeyance only by the alert decision-making of
sentries I not only overlooked but whose presence I never suspected.

“All I can say to that is, somebody must have taken a bath sometime since the
turn of the century.” The same could not be said for most of the crowd inside
that shelter. Which might be the reason the roof and walls were so porous. “This
is my new friend Suvrin. He was the captain of the local garrison. I blew in his
ear and he decided he wanted to help us so we would go away before the Protector
shows up and makes life tough for everybody.”

Somebody in back said, “You could blow in mine and—ow! What the fuck you hit me
for, Willow?”

Vajra the Naga said, “Knock it off. Swan, keep your hands to yourself. Vigan, I
don’t want to hear your mouth again. You should know better. What’ve you guys
done to get ready to knock over that tower over by the Shadowgate?”

Nobody said a word.

“You guys obviously did something while you were waiting around.” I gestured at
our surroundings. “You managed to build a house. Badly. Or a barracks. But you
didn’t do anything else? There’re no scouts out? No planning got done? No
preparations got made? Was there something going on that I haven’t heard about
yet?”

Goblin sidled up. In an uncharacteristic tone he murmured, “Don’t press these
issues. Now isn’t the time. Just tell people what to do and send them out to do
it.”

I trust the little wizard’s wisdom occasionally. “Sit down. Here’s what we’ll
do. Dig out whatever fireball launchers we have left. Vigan, pick ten men. Carry
the heaviest launcher yourself. The others can carry lighter ones. If there
aren’t enough to go around, bring bows. We’ll go take care of this right now.

Vigan, choose your team.”

The man who had made the mistake of irritating me rose. In a surly tone he named
his helpers. Chances were all of them had irritated him sometime recently. It
rolls downhill.

In the few minutes it took Vigan to get ready, I had the others tell me things
they thought I ought to know.

I had the men encircle the little fort. We carried torches and made no effort to
sneak. Per instructions, Vigan carried the heaviest piece of bamboo. It had an
interior diameter of three inches. He told me, “There’s supposed to be only a
couple, three balls left in this one.”

“That ought to be enough. Right here should be fine.” A good archer with a
strong bow might cause us trouble but those were exceeding rare in modern
Taglian armies. Mogaba was a warrior. He believed real men got in close, where
they could get splattered with each other’s blood when they fought. It was a
blind spot we had exploited more than once during the Kiaulune wars and would
exploit again until he figured it out.

Goblin shuffled into position behind us. Tobo did, too. They said nothing, which
must have been a trial for the boy. He talked in his sleep.

“What do I do?” Vigan asked.

“Let them have one. Through the stonework right above the gate.” Louder, I said,

“Stand fast. Nobody do anything until I tell you.”

The first two times Vigan turned his hand release crank, nothing happened.

“Is it empty?” I asked.

“It’s not supposed to be.”

Goblin advised, “Try again, then. It’s been over ten years since it was used.

Maybe it just needs to be loosened up.”

I mused, “I’ll bet nobody’s bothered to keep the mechanism clean. And you folks
wondered why I wanted to hire an armorer. Go ahead. Crank it again. Carefully,

so you don’t lose your aim.”

Whack! Crackle-crackle-crackle-sizzle! into the distance. The fireball ripped
right through the little fortification’s two outside walls and whatever lay
between them. Stone steamed and ran. The scarlet ball wobbled through the air
for several miles more, gave up the last of its momentum, gradually darkened as
it drifted to earth beyond the ruins of Overlook.

“Move to the left a few yards, drop your aiming point five feet, then do it
again.”

Vigan was having fun now. There was a bounce to his step as he moved to his new
position. This time it took only one extra turn of the crank to get the fireball
launched.

A blistering, lime-colored ball ripped through the fortification. It hit
something significant inside. It had almost no energy left when it appeared on
the far side.

A gout of steam blew out the top of the tower. “Must’ve gotten a water barrel,”

I said. Water and the fireballs made a wicked combination resulting in storms of
superheated steam. “Suvrin, where are you?” Two fireballs should have gotten
their attention inside, should have gotten the survivors to thinking. Now I
could begin placing my shots. “Suvrin! Have you ever been inside that rockpile?”

The fat man came forward reluctantly. When he was close by me, his face was in
the light. The garrison inside would remember him. He wanted to lie to me, too,

I could see. But he did not have the courage. “Yes.”

“What’s the layout? It doesn’t look like it could be that complicated.”

“It isn’t. Animals and storage on the ground floor. They can pile up stuff
behind the gate so you can’t knock it in. They live on the second floor. It’s
just one big room. There’s a stove for cooking and pallets for sleeping and
racks of weapons and that’s about it.”

“And the roof is basically just a fighting platform, right? Wait a minute,

Vigan. Don’t spend any more fireballs than we have to. Let them think for a
while now. Maybe they’ll give up. They know I didn’t hurt Suvrin’s men. Tobo,

circle around and tell all the men that if they have to launch a fireball, we
need it to go through the second level. Preferably low. They’ll probably get
down on the floor when death starts coming through.”

“Can I shoot one of those things, Sleepy?”

“Get the message out first.” I watched him scoot off. He did not expose himself
unnecessarily. Faces could be seen occasionally behind the archers’ embrasures
over yonder. A couple of arrows had come out and fallen harmlessly. I told
Goblin, “If anybody had been paying attention, we’d have the place mapped down
to the last cot and table and we’d know exactly where to aim every fireball to
get the best effect.”

“You’re absolutely right again. Just as you always are. Be quiet for a second.

There’s something going on here. Those men aren’t as scared as they should be.”

As he spoke, I glimpsed a face peeking over the parapet. A moment later the
white crow plummeted out of the night. It knocked the leather helmet off the
soldier.

I yelled, “Everybody wake up! They’re about to pull something!”

Goblin had started muttering already. He was doing something odd with his
fingers.

Men jumped up atop the little fort. Each had something in hand, ready to throw.

A half-dozen fireballs squirted their way without my approval. One grenadier
went down but not before he launched his missile.

Glass, I saw. Same type One-Eye had used to make firebombs, years ago. We still
had a few of those, too. But throwing firebombs at us out here would be
pointless. We were too far away to be reached.

“Aim low!” I yelled. “Shadows coming!” That was not a shout that had been heard
for an age but it was one the veterans remembered and could respond to without
ever thinking.

Goblin was already wobbling across the slope in as near a sprint as his old
bones could manage, still muttering and wiggling his fingers. Pink sparks leaped
between his fingers and slithered around amongst his few remaining hairs. He
grabbed a skinny little bamboo pole from one of the men. It had been painted
with black stripes, meaning that its dedicated purpose was use against shadows.

Fireballs flew. Some peppered the fortress. Some dove after the shadows that
spilled out of the breaking glass containers. Suvrin began whimpering behind me.

I told him, “Don’t run. They’ll get you for sure. They love a fleeing victim.”

There was a lot of screaming inside the fortress. Fireballs streaking through
had found human targets. In their way, the fireballs were almost as bad as the
killing shadows.

One of my men began shrieking when a shadow found him. But he was the only one.

Goblin’s spell helped some. The quick use of fireballs helped more.

Goblin began loosing fireballs from the pole he had snagged but sent them racing
northward instead of toward the stubborn little fort. He quit after only a few
tries. He came back to me. “They’ve done their job, those brave boys in there.

They got their warning away.” He was as sour as a lemon slice under the tongue.

“So I take it Soulcatcher didn’t die when she hit the water.” I had heard the
news from Taglios only up to the part where the Protector’s carpet had fallen
apart in midair, with her streaking along four hundred feet above the river. The
break coming at that point had not been because anyone was trying to make things
particularly dramatic, it was just because there was too much going on to have a
lot of time left for catching up. Especially where Murgen was concerned. Murgen
seemed to be employed full time easing Sahra’s frights and concerns.

“She was one of the Ten Who Were Taken, Sleepy. Those people don’t hurt easy.

Hell, she survived having her head cut off. She carried it around in a box for
about fifteen years.”

I grunted. Sometimes it was hard to remember that Soulcatcher was much more than
just an unpleasant, distant senior official. “They likely to have any more
surprises in there?” I meant the question for Suvrin but Goblin answered.

“If they did, they would’ve used them. You thinking about going in after them?”

“Oh, heck no! Somebody might get hurt. Somebody besides them. Suvrin, go over
there and tell them if they surrender in the next half hour, I’ll let them go.

If they don’t, I’ll kill them all before the hour is up.”

The fat man started to protest. Vigan poked his behind with the tip of a dagger.

I told Suvrin, “If they do anything to you, I’ll avenge you.”

“That’s a big weight off my heart.”

Goblin asked, “How are you going to avenge anybody? Considering you’re not going
to go in there after them.”

“That’s what we have wizards for. This looks like a wonderful opportunity for
you to give Tobo some on-the-job training.”

“Am I surprised? Not hardly. For a hundred years it’s been, ‘What do we do now?’

‘I don’t know. Let’s let Goblin handle it.’ I oughta just take a hike and let
you figure it out for yourself.”

“I’m tired. I’m going to sit down here and rest my eyes until Suvrin gets back.”

I heard Goblin tell Vigan to put another heavyweight fireball into the corner of
the fortification, along the length of the wall so all its energy would be spent
devouring the pale limestone. There was a solid thump! swiftly followed by the
smell of superheated limestone. As I drifted away, Goblin muttered something
about burning them out.