The Books of the South: Tales of the Black Company (Chronicles of the Black Company) by Glen Cook

had small nods to admit that they felt unsettled, too. The rest were too macho to admit anything.
    So. Maybe my collywobbles were not imaginary.
    “I get a feeling going down there could become a watershed of Company history. Can one of you geniuses tell me why?”
    Goblin and One-Eye looked at each other. Neither spoke.
    “The only thing the Annals say that’s weird is that Gea-Xle was one of those rare places the Company walked away from.”
    “What does that mean?” That Murgen was a natural shill.
    “It means our forebrethren didn’t have to fight their way out. They could have renewed their commission. But the Captain heard about a treasure mountain up north where the silver nuggets were supposed to weigh a pound.”
    There was more to the tale but they did not want to hear it. We were not really the Black Company anymore, just rootless men from nowhere headed the same direction. How much was that my fault? How much the fault of bitter circumstance?
    “No comment?” They both looked thoughtful, though. “So. Murgen. Break out the real colors tomorrow. With all the honors.”
    That jacked up some eyebrows.
    “Finish the tea, guys. And tell your bellies to get ready for some real brew. They make the genuine elixir down there.”
    That sparked some interest.
    “You see? The Annals are good for something after all.”
    I set about doing some writing in the latest of my own volumes, occasionally peeking at one or another of the wizards. They had forgotten their feud, were using their heads for something more than the creation of mischief.
    During one of my upward glances I caught a silvery yellow flash. It seemed to come from the rocks where I had been a while back, watching the city lights.
    “Lady!”
    I barked my shins a dozen times getting there, then felt like a fool when I found her seated on a rock, arms around her legs, chin on her knees, contemplating the night. The light of a newly risen moon fell upon her from behind. She was astonished by my wild stumble to the rescue.
    “What happened?” I demanded.
    “What?”
    “I saw some weird flashes up here.”
    Her expression, in that light, seemed honestly baffled.
    “Must have been a trick of the moonlight. Better turn in pretty soon. I want to get an early start.”
    “All right,” she said in a small, troubled voice.
    “Is something wrong?”
    “No. I’m just lost.”
    I knew what she meant without her having to explain.
    Going back I ran into Goblin and One-Eye moving up carefully. Fireflies of magic danced in their hands and dread smoldered in their eyes.

 
    16
    Willow’s War
    Willow was amazed. It actually went pretty much the way it was supposed to. The Taglians gave up their territories below the Main without a finger raised to resist. The army of the Shadowmasters came over the river and still met no resistance. It dissolved into its four elements. Still meeting no opposition, those forces broke up into companies, the better to plunder. The looting was so good all discipline collapsed.
    Taglian marauders began picking off foragers and small raiding parties, suddenly, everywhere. The invaders suffered a thousand casualties before they understood. Cordy Mather engineered that phase, claiming to emulate his military idols, the Black Company. When the invaders responded with larger foraging parties he countered by leading them into traps and ambushes. At his peak he twice suckered entire companies into densely built and specially prepared towns that he burned down around them. The third time he tried that, though, the invaders did not take the bait. His overconfident Taglians got whipped. Wounded, he went back to Taglios to contemplate the fickleness of fate.
    Willow, meantime, was marching around the eastern Taglian territories with Smoke and twenty-five hundred volunteers, keeping close to the enemy commander, trying to look like a menace that would become nemesis the moment the invaders made a mistake. Smoke had no intention of fighting,