Only Lady was unabashedly self-congratulating. She
missed few opportunities to remind those who came later how
brilliant and determined and successful she was, turning the tide
of the Shadowmaster wars when she had nothing to begin building
upon but herself. Murgen was, putting it charitably, less than sane
much of the time. Because I lived through many of the times and
events he recollected, I have to say he did pretty good. Most of
what he recorded
could
be true. I cannot contradict him. But a lot
he set down does seem fanciful.
Fanciful? Last night I had a long chat with his ghost. Or
spirit. Or ka. Whatever that was. If that was really Murgen and not
some trick played on us by Kina or Soulcatcher.
We can never be one-hundred-percent certain that anything is
exactly what it appears to be. Kina is the Mother of Deceit. And
Soulcatcher, to quote a man far wiser and more foul of mouth than
I, is a mudsucking lunatic.
----
----
15
T his is
excellent,” I enthused again as Sahra summoned Murgen once
more. She herself betrayed no enthusiasm for the task. Tobo’s
hovering did nothing to improve her temper. “Before he does
anything else, I want to have him check on Surendranath
Santaraksita.”
“So you don’t trust the librarian after all,”
One-Eye said. He chuckled.
“I think he’s all right but why hand him a chance to
break my heart if I can avoid it by keeping an eye on
him?”
“How come it’s got to be my eye?”
“There’s not a sharper one available, is there? And
you already turned down a chance to work on the Annals. I’ve
got to do some heavy studying in those tonight. I might be on the
track of something.”
The little wizard grunted.
“I think I found something at the library today. If
Santaraksita doesn’t trip me up, I may have an outside view
of the first coming of the Company by the end of the week.”
An independent historical source has been a goal almost as long as
has been our desire for a look at uncontaminated editions of the
earliest three volumes of the Annals.
Sahra had something else on her mind. “Barundandi wants me
to bring Sawa to work, Sleepy.”
“No. Sawa is on hiatus. She’s sick. She has cholera,
if that’s what it takes. I’m finally starting to make
some real headway. I’m not going to let that slide
now.”
“He’s also been asking about Shiki.” Back when
Tobo had accompanied his mother to the Palace occasionally, she had
called him Shikhandini, which was a joke Jaul Barundandi never got
because he was not the sort to pay attention to historical
mythology. One of the kings of legendary Hastinapur had had a
senior wife who seemed to be barren. A good Gunni, he prayed and
made sacrifice faithfully, and eventually one of the gods stepped
down from heaven to tell him he could have what he wanted, which
was a son, but he was going to get it the hard way, for the son
would be born a daughter. And, as they say, it came to pass that
the wife brought forth a daughter whom the king then named
Shikhandin, a name that also existed in the female form
Shikhandini. It is a long and not that interesting story, but the
girl grew up to become a mighty warrior.
The trouble started when it came time for the prince to take a
bride.
Many of our public characters have obscure allusions or jokes
built into them. That helped make things more interesting for the
brothers playing the roles.
I asked, “Do we have any reason to snatch Barundandi?
Other than his general sliminess?” I thought he was most
useful right where he was. Any replacement was sure to be as venal
and unlikely to be as kind to Minh Subredil. “And could we
even get him out where we could touch him?”
Nobody suggested a strategic reason for grabbing the man. Sahra
wanted to know, “Why do you ask?”
“Because I do think we could lure him. If we dress Tobo up
pretty, then refuse to cooperate unless Barundandi meets him
outside . . . ”
Sahra was not offended. The ruse is a legitimate
missed few opportunities to remind those who came later how
brilliant and determined and successful she was, turning the tide
of the Shadowmaster wars when she had nothing to begin building
upon but herself. Murgen was, putting it charitably, less than sane
much of the time. Because I lived through many of the times and
events he recollected, I have to say he did pretty good. Most of
what he recorded
could
be true. I cannot contradict him. But a lot
he set down does seem fanciful.
Fanciful? Last night I had a long chat with his ghost. Or
spirit. Or ka. Whatever that was. If that was really Murgen and not
some trick played on us by Kina or Soulcatcher.
We can never be one-hundred-percent certain that anything is
exactly what it appears to be. Kina is the Mother of Deceit. And
Soulcatcher, to quote a man far wiser and more foul of mouth than
I, is a mudsucking lunatic.
----
----
15
T his is
excellent,” I enthused again as Sahra summoned Murgen once
more. She herself betrayed no enthusiasm for the task. Tobo’s
hovering did nothing to improve her temper. “Before he does
anything else, I want to have him check on Surendranath
Santaraksita.”
“So you don’t trust the librarian after all,”
One-Eye said. He chuckled.
“I think he’s all right but why hand him a chance to
break my heart if I can avoid it by keeping an eye on
him?”
“How come it’s got to be my eye?”
“There’s not a sharper one available, is there? And
you already turned down a chance to work on the Annals. I’ve
got to do some heavy studying in those tonight. I might be on the
track of something.”
The little wizard grunted.
“I think I found something at the library today. If
Santaraksita doesn’t trip me up, I may have an outside view
of the first coming of the Company by the end of the week.”
An independent historical source has been a goal almost as long as
has been our desire for a look at uncontaminated editions of the
earliest three volumes of the Annals.
Sahra had something else on her mind. “Barundandi wants me
to bring Sawa to work, Sleepy.”
“No. Sawa is on hiatus. She’s sick. She has cholera,
if that’s what it takes. I’m finally starting to make
some real headway. I’m not going to let that slide
now.”
“He’s also been asking about Shiki.” Back when
Tobo had accompanied his mother to the Palace occasionally, she had
called him Shikhandini, which was a joke Jaul Barundandi never got
because he was not the sort to pay attention to historical
mythology. One of the kings of legendary Hastinapur had had a
senior wife who seemed to be barren. A good Gunni, he prayed and
made sacrifice faithfully, and eventually one of the gods stepped
down from heaven to tell him he could have what he wanted, which
was a son, but he was going to get it the hard way, for the son
would be born a daughter. And, as they say, it came to pass that
the wife brought forth a daughter whom the king then named
Shikhandin, a name that also existed in the female form
Shikhandini. It is a long and not that interesting story, but the
girl grew up to become a mighty warrior.
The trouble started when it came time for the prince to take a
bride.
Many of our public characters have obscure allusions or jokes
built into them. That helped make things more interesting for the
brothers playing the roles.
I asked, “Do we have any reason to snatch Barundandi?
Other than his general sliminess?” I thought he was most
useful right where he was. Any replacement was sure to be as venal
and unlikely to be as kind to Minh Subredil. “And could we
even get him out where we could touch him?”
Nobody suggested a strategic reason for grabbing the man. Sahra
wanted to know, “Why do you ask?”
“Because I do think we could lure him. If we dress Tobo up
pretty, then refuse to cooperate unless Barundandi meets him
outside . . . ”
Sahra was not offended. The ruse is a legitimate
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