Water Sleeps by Glen Cook

back onstage.
    “You denigrate yourself overmuch,” Santaraksita said at one point. “I may have
     known your father . . . if he was the same Dollal Dey Banerjae who could not
     resist the Liberator’s call for recruits when he raised the original legion that
     triumphed at Ghoja Ford.”
    I had named dead Dorabee’s father already. I could not take that back now. How
     could he know Dollal, anyway? Banerjae was one of the oldest and most common of
     traditional Taglian surnames. Banerjaes were mentioned in the text I had been
     reading till moments ago. “That may have been him. I never knew him well. I do
     recall him boasting that he was one of the first to enroll. He marched off with
     the Liberator to defeat the Shadowmasters. He never came back from Ghoja Ford.”
    I did not know much more about Dorabee’s family. Not even his mother’s name. In
     all Taglios how could it be possible I would encounter anyone who remembered the
     father? Fortune is indeed a goddess filled with caprice. “Did you know him
     well?” If that was so, the librarian might have to go—just that would make my
     exposure inevitable.
    “No. Not well. Not well at all.” Now Master Santaraksita seemed disinclined to
     say more. He seemed worrisomely thoughtful. After a moment he told me, “Come
     with me, Dorabee.”
    “Sir?”
    “You brought up the university at Vikramas. I have a list of the questions the
     gate guards put to those who wanted to enroll. Curiosity impels me to subject
     you to the same examination.”
    “I know little about Janai, Master.” If the truth were told, I was a bit shaky
     on the tenets of my own religion, always having been afraid to examine it too
     closely. Other religions do not stand up to the rigorous application of reason,
    for all we have things like Kina stalking the earth, and I really did not want
     to find myself stumbling over any boulders of absurdity protruding from the
     bedrock of my own faith.
    “The examination was not religious in nature, Dorabee. It tested the prospective
     student’s morals, ethics and ability to think. Janaka monks did not wish to
     educate potential leaders who would come to their calling with the stain of
     darkness upon their souls.”
    That being the case, I had to get into character very deeply indeed. Sleepy, the
     Vehdna soldier girl from Jaicur, had stains on her soul blacker than a shadow of
     all night falling.

Black Company GS 8 - Water Sleeps
    14
    Then what did you do?” Tobo asked.
    Around a mouthful of spicy Taglian-style rice, I told him, “Then I went out and
     made sure the library was clean.” And Surendranath Santaraksita remained where
     he was, stunned into immobility by the answers he had received from a lowly
     sweeper. I could have told him that anyone who paid attention to the
     storytellers in the street, the sermons of mendicant priests, and the readily
     available gratuitous advice of hermits and yogis, could have satisfied most of
     the Vikramas questions. Darn it, a Vehdna woman from Jaicur could do it.
    “We got to kill him,” One-Eye said. “How you want to do it?”
    “That’s always your solution these days, isn’t it?” I asked.
    “The more we get rid of now, the fewer there’ll be around to aggravate me in my
     old age.”
    I could not tell if he was joking. “When you start getting old, we’ll worry
     about it.”
    “Guy like that will be easy, Little Girl. He won’t be looking for it. Bam! He’s
     gone. And nobody’ll care. Strangle his ass. Leave a rumel on him. Blame it on
     our old buddy Narayan. He’s in town, we need to put all kinds of shit off on
     him.”
    “Language, old man.” One-Eye babbled on, putting a name to animal waste in a
     hundred tongues. I turned my back. “Sahra? You’ve been very quiet.”
    “I’ve been trying to digest what I picked up today. By the way, Jaul Barundandi
     was distraught because you stayed home. Tried to take your kickback out of my
     wages. He finally found