hills.
Goblin replied, “That’s something we weren’t looking for.”
A gout of darkness reared against the pink. Human figures tumbled within it.
They flared, burned like bright, brief-lived stars. Moments later an earth
tremor rocked the city. I lost my footing briefly.
One-Eye observed, “For once you’re right, runt. There’s a player in the game we
didn’t know about.”
A pair of crows a few yards off went into hysterics. They jumped into the
darkness, kept laughing as they flapped away.
“Surprise, surprise,” I muttered. “What with all that booming and crashing and
crap in those hills. Come on, guys! Tell me who. The rest even a dummy like me
can figure out. So just tell me who.”
“We’re gonna work on that,” One-Eye promised. “Maybe we’d even start now if you
went away and left us alone. Come on, runt.”
While him and his frog-faced buddy got to work I turned my attention to the
excitement still festering inside Dejagore.
Possibly thousands of Shadowlanders had crossed the wall now. A lot of fires
were burning. I asked Ky Dam’s grandson, “Will the light be trouble for your
people?”
He shrugged.
This fellow was no gossip.
Black Company GS 6 - Black Seasons
27
There was no night now. Fires burned everywhere. They burned in the Shadowlander
camp, set by Mogaba’s beleaguered artillerymen. They burned in the city, set by
the Shadowmaster’s soldiers. Conflagrations blazed in the hills, hinting of
surprise volcanos or powers of a magnitude unseen since the Company went up
against the dark lords of Lady’s empire. It was too much light for the middle of
the night. “How long till dawn? Anybody know?”
“Too long,” Bucket grumbled. “You really think anybody is actually worrying
about keeping time tonight?”
Way back, centuries earlier in the evening, One-Eye or Goblin or somebody
expressed dawn as a goal too remote for hope. The general level of optimism
remained that low.
Reports came in, none of them good. Innumerable southern soldiers were inside
the city. They had orders to drive toward us, wipe us out, then continue on
around inside and atop the wall, the long way, till they got back where they had
started. But the Nyueng Bao were not cooperating. Neither were my guys. So the
invaders were blundering around doing any damage they could till somebody killed
them.
Against the Jaicuri, cowering in their homes hoping to be overlooked despite all
their experience with the Shadowmasters, the southerners enjoyed some success.
You could not fault them for not going all out after us. They did not want to
get killed either. And Mogaba should not have been surprised when some of the
villains he let through turned on him.
Our guys held their positions. The doppelgangers and illusions drove the
southerners crazy. They never knew which threat was real. But the big reason our
side held up well was that there was no choice. We had nowhere to run.
Shadowspinner was no help to his people. He was out in those hills intent on
undoing that mystery personally. Clearly he regretted having made the choice.
Once again a band of riders came flying back, silhouetted by pink light. The
Shadowmaster did not appear to be with them. “Goblin! One-Eye! Where the hell
are you now, you little shits? Has something happened to Shadowspinner?”
Goblin materialized, his breath heavy with the smell of beer. He and One-Eye had
a few gallons stashed somewhere nearby, then. He dashed my hopes. “The
Shadowmaster is alive, Murgen. But maybe he’s messed his drawers.” He giggled.
“Oh, shit,” I muttered. The little toad had gotten deep into the home brew. If
One-Eye had, too, I might have one truly interesting rest of the night. It was
possible those two would forget everything and pick up the feud they have had
going for a hundred years. Last time they got drunk and went after each other
they tore up a whole city block
Goblin replied, “That’s something we weren’t looking for.”
A gout of darkness reared against the pink. Human figures tumbled within it.
They flared, burned like bright, brief-lived stars. Moments later an earth
tremor rocked the city. I lost my footing briefly.
One-Eye observed, “For once you’re right, runt. There’s a player in the game we
didn’t know about.”
A pair of crows a few yards off went into hysterics. They jumped into the
darkness, kept laughing as they flapped away.
“Surprise, surprise,” I muttered. “What with all that booming and crashing and
crap in those hills. Come on, guys! Tell me who. The rest even a dummy like me
can figure out. So just tell me who.”
“We’re gonna work on that,” One-Eye promised. “Maybe we’d even start now if you
went away and left us alone. Come on, runt.”
While him and his frog-faced buddy got to work I turned my attention to the
excitement still festering inside Dejagore.
Possibly thousands of Shadowlanders had crossed the wall now. A lot of fires
were burning. I asked Ky Dam’s grandson, “Will the light be trouble for your
people?”
He shrugged.
This fellow was no gossip.
Black Company GS 6 - Black Seasons
27
There was no night now. Fires burned everywhere. They burned in the Shadowlander
camp, set by Mogaba’s beleaguered artillerymen. They burned in the city, set by
the Shadowmaster’s soldiers. Conflagrations blazed in the hills, hinting of
surprise volcanos or powers of a magnitude unseen since the Company went up
against the dark lords of Lady’s empire. It was too much light for the middle of
the night. “How long till dawn? Anybody know?”
“Too long,” Bucket grumbled. “You really think anybody is actually worrying
about keeping time tonight?”
Way back, centuries earlier in the evening, One-Eye or Goblin or somebody
expressed dawn as a goal too remote for hope. The general level of optimism
remained that low.
Reports came in, none of them good. Innumerable southern soldiers were inside
the city. They had orders to drive toward us, wipe us out, then continue on
around inside and atop the wall, the long way, till they got back where they had
started. But the Nyueng Bao were not cooperating. Neither were my guys. So the
invaders were blundering around doing any damage they could till somebody killed
them.
Against the Jaicuri, cowering in their homes hoping to be overlooked despite all
their experience with the Shadowmasters, the southerners enjoyed some success.
You could not fault them for not going all out after us. They did not want to
get killed either. And Mogaba should not have been surprised when some of the
villains he let through turned on him.
Our guys held their positions. The doppelgangers and illusions drove the
southerners crazy. They never knew which threat was real. But the big reason our
side held up well was that there was no choice. We had nowhere to run.
Shadowspinner was no help to his people. He was out in those hills intent on
undoing that mystery personally. Clearly he regretted having made the choice.
Once again a band of riders came flying back, silhouetted by pink light. The
Shadowmaster did not appear to be with them. “Goblin! One-Eye! Where the hell
are you now, you little shits? Has something happened to Shadowspinner?”
Goblin materialized, his breath heavy with the smell of beer. He and One-Eye had
a few gallons stashed somewhere nearby, then. He dashed my hopes. “The
Shadowmaster is alive, Murgen. But maybe he’s messed his drawers.” He giggled.
“Oh, shit,” I muttered. The little toad had gotten deep into the home brew. If
One-Eye had, too, I might have one truly interesting rest of the night. It was
possible those two would forget everything and pick up the feud they have had
going for a hundred years. Last time they got drunk and went after each other
they tore up a whole city block
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