The Return of the Black Company Read Free Page B

crow taken by surprise.
    The Nyueng Bao are survivors.
    They are a race possessed of a single impassive face.
    Mogaba does not bother them mainly because when anybody does the whole bunch gets pissed off. And they consider fighting a really serious, holy business.
    They stay out of the way when they can but they aren’t pacifists. A couple of times the Shadowlanders have regretted trying to push through their part of town.
    The Nyueng Bao generated an amazing amount of carnage both times.
    Rumor among the Jaicuri says they eat their enemies.
    It is true, human bones showing evidence of butchery and cookery have been found. Jaicuri are mainly of the Gunni religion. Gunni are vegetarians.
    I do not believe the Nyueng Bao are responsible, but Ky Dam refuses to deny even the blackest allegation against his people.
    Maybe he will accept any canard that makes the Nyueng Bao seem more dangerous. Maybe he wants that kind of talk so fear will build.
    Survivors grasp the tools at hand.
    I wish they would talk. I’d bet they could tell stories that would curl your toes and straighten your hair.
    Ah! Dejagore! Those halcyon days, slouching through hell with a smile on.
    How long before all the fun goes out of the town?

 
    7
    Bone tired, just as I had been every night for as long as I could remember, I went to take my turn on the wall. I had no ambition at all and even less energy. Seated in a crenel, I heaped aspersions on the ancestors of all my bitty Shadowlander buddies. I am afraid I lacked creativity but I made up for that with virulence. They were up to something out there. You could hear rattlings and mutterings and see torches moving around. There were all the harbingers of a night without sleep. Couldn’t these people be normal and handle their business during regular hours?
    It didn’t sound like they were more enthusiastic than me. I caught the occasional sharp remark about me or my foredaddies, like this mess was all my fault. I guess they were motivated mainly by their sure knowledge that they would never go home if they didn’t recapture Stormgard.
    Maybe nobody on either side would get out of this one alive.
    A crow called, mocking us all. I didn’t bother throwing a rock at it.
    It was misty out. A halfhearted drizzle came and went. Lightning stalked beyond the hills to the south. It had been hot and humid all day, then had turned viciously stormy toward evening. Lakes of water stood in the streets. Stormshadow’s engineers had not made good drainage a high priority, despite the natural advantages available.
    It would not be a good night for attacking tall walls. And not much easier for anyone defending them.
    Still, I almost felt sorry for the little buggers down below.
    Candles and Red Rudy finished the long climb from the street, groaning. Each carried a heavy leather sack. Candles grumbled, “I’m too old for this shit.”
    “If it works out we’ll all get to get old.”
    Both men leaned on merlons while they caught their wind. Then they dumped their sacks into the darkness. Somebody down there swore in a Shadowlander dialect. “Serves you right, asshole,” Rudy growled back. “Go home. Let me sleep.”
    All of the Old Crew invested time hauling dirt.
    “I know,” Candles told me. “I know. But what good is alive if you’re too damned tired to give a shit?”
    If you read the Annals you know our brothers have said the same thing since the beginning. I shrugged. I could come up with nothing inspirational. Mostly you don’t try to justify or motivate, you just go on.
    Candles grumbled, “Goblin wants you. We’ll cover you here.”
    In battered Shadowlander Rudy shouted downward, “Yeah, I know your turkey gobble. Fuck you.”
    I grunted. It was my watch but I could leave if I wanted. Mogaba didn’t even pretend to try to control the Old Crew anymore. We did our part. We held our ground. We just would not conform to his ideas of what the Black Company ought to be.
    But there was going to be one