That black morion faced me. "Their faith is dying. An army without faith in itself is beaten more surely than an army defeated in battle." When Soulcatcher gets on a subject nothing deflects him.
I had a funny feeling he might be the type to yield command to someone better able to exercise it.
"We tighten the screws now. All of you. Tell it in the taverns. Whisper it in the streets. Burn him. Drive him. Push him so hard he doesn't have time to think. I want him so desperate he tries something stupid."
I thought Soulcatcher had the right idea. This fragment of the Lady's war would not be won on a battlefield.
Spring was at hand, yet fighting had not yet begun. The eyes of the Salient were locked on the free city, awaiting the outcome of this duel between Raker and the Lady's champion.
Soulcatcher observed, "It's no longer necessary to kill Raker. His credibility is dead. Now we're destroying the confidence of his movement." He resumed his vigil at the window.
Elmo said, "Captain says the Circle ordered Raker out. He wouldn't go."
"He revolted against his own revolution?"
"He wants to beat this trap."
Another facet of human nature working for our side. Overweening pride.
"Get some cards out. Goblin and One-Eye have been robbing widows and orphans again. Time to clean them out."
Raker was on his own, hunted, haunted, a whipped dog running the alleys of the night. He could not trust anyone. I felt sorry for him. Almost.
He was a fool. Only a fool keeps betting against the odds. The odds against Raker were getting longer by the hour.
XII
I jerked a thumb at the darkness near the window. "Sounds like a convening of the Brotherhood of Whispers."
Raven glanced over my shoulder, said nothing. We were playing head-to-toe Tonk, a time-killer of a game.
A dozen voices murmured over there. "I smell it." "You're wrong." "It's in from the south." "End it now." "Not yet." "It's time." "Needs a while longer." "Pushing our luck. The game could turn." "Ware pride." "It's here. The stench of it runs before it like the breath of a jackal."
"Wonder if he ever loses an argument with himself?"
Still Raven said nothing. In my more daring moods I try to draw him out. Without luck. I was doing better with Soulcatcher.
Soulcatcher rose suddenly, an angry noise rising from deep inside him.
"What is it?" I asked. I was tired of Roses. I was disgusted with Roses. Roses bored and frightened me. It was worth a man's life to go into those streets alone.
One of those spook voices was right. We were approaching a point of diminishing returns. I was developing a grudging admiration for Raker myself. The man refused to surrender or run.
"What is it?" I asked again.
"The Limper. He's in Roses."
"Here? Why?"
"He smells a big kill. He wants to steal the credit."
"You mean muscle in on our action?"
"That's his style."
"Wouldn't the Lady...."
"This's Roses. She's a long way off. And she doesn't care who gets him."
Politics among the Lady's viceroys? My, my. It is a strange world. I don't understand people outside the Company.
We lead a simple life. No thinking required. The Captain takes care of that. We just follow orders. For most of us the Black Company is a hiding place, a refuge from yesterday, a place to become a new man.
"What do we do?" I asked.
"I'll handle the Limper." He began seeing to his apparel.
Goblin and One-Eye staggered in. They were so drunk they had to prop each other up. "Shit," Goblin squeaked. "Snowing again. Goddamned snow. I thought winter was over."
One-Eye burst into song. Something about the beauties of winter. I couldn't follow him. His speech was slurred and he had forgotten half the words.
Goblin fell into a chair, forgetting One-Eye. One-Eye collapsed at his feet. He vomited on Goblin's boots, tried to continue his song. Goblin muttered, "Where the hell is everybody?"
"Out carousing around." I exchanged looks with Raven. "Do you believe this? Those two getting drunk together?"
"Where you going, old spook?" Goblin squeaked at Soulcatcher. Soulcatcher went out without answering. "Bastard. Hey. One-Eye, old buddy. That right? Old spook a bastard?"
One-Eye levered himself off the floor, looked around. I don't think he
was seeing with the eye he had. "S'right." He scowled at me. "Bassard. All bassard." Something struck him funny. He giggled.
Goblin joined him. When Raven and I did not get the joke, he put on a very dignified face and said, "Not our kind in here, old buddy. Warmer out in the snow." He helped One-Eye stand. They staggered out the door.
"Hope they don't do anything stupid. More stupid. Like show off. They'll kill themselves."
"Tonk," Raven said. He spread his cards. Those two might not have come in for all the response he showed.
Ten or fifty hands later one of the soldiers we'd brought burst in. "You seen Elmo?" he demanded.
I glanced at him. Snow was melting in his hair. He was pale, scared. "No. What happened, Hagop?"
"Somebody stabbed Otto. I think it was Raker. I run him off."
"Stabbed? He dead?" I started looking for my kit. Otto would need me more than he'd need Elmo. "No. Cut bad. Lot of blood." "Why didn't you bring him?" "Couldn't carry him." He was drunk too. The attack on his friend had sobered him some, but that would not last. "You sure it was Raker?" Was the old fool trying to hit back?
"Sure. Hey, Croaker. Come on. He's gonna die."
"I'm coming. I'm coming." "Wait." Raven was pawing through
his gear. "I'm going." He balanced a pair of finely honed knives, debating a choice. He shrugged, stuck both inside his belt. "Get yourself a cloak. Croaker. It's cold out there."
While I found one he grilled Hagop about Otto's whereabouts, told him to stay put till Elmo showed. Then, "Let's go, Croaker."
Down the stairs. Into the streets. Raven's walk is deceptive. He never seems hurried, but you have to hustle to stay up.
Snowing wasn't the half of it. Even where the streets were lighted you couldn't see twenty feet. It was six inches deep already. Heavy, wet stuff. But the temperature was falling, and a wind was coming up. Another blizzard? Damn, hadn't we had enough?
We found Otto a quarter block from where he was supposed to be. He had dragged himself under some steps. Raven went right to him. How he knew where to look I'll never know. We carried Otto to the nearest light. He could not help himself. He was out. I snorted. "Dead drunk. Only danger was freezing to death." He had blood all over him but his wound was not bad. "Needs some stitches, that's all." We lugged him back to the room. I stripped him and got sewing while he was in no shape to bitch.
Otto's sidekick was asleep. Raven kicked him till he woke up. "I want the truth," Raven said. "How'd it happen?"
Hagop told it, insisting, "It was Raker, man. It was Raker."
I doubted that. So did Raven. But when I finished my needlepoint. Raven said, "Get your sword, Croaker." He had the hunter's look. I did not want to go out again, but even less did I want to argue with Raven when he was in that mood. I got my swordbelt.
The air was colder. The wind was stronger. The snowflakes were smaller and more biting when they hit my cheek. I stalked along behind Raven, wondering what the hell we were doing.
He found the place where Hagop was knifed. New snow had not yet obliterated the marks in the old. Raven squatted, stared. I wondered what he saw. There was not enough light to tell anything, so far as I could see.
"Maybe he wasn't lying," he said at last. He stared into the darkness of the alley whence the attacker had come.
"How do you know?"
He did not tell me. "Come on." He stalked into the alley.
I don't like alleys. I especially don't like them in cities like Roses, where they harbor every evil known to man, and probably a few still undiscovered. But Raven was going in.... Raven wanted my help.... Raven was my brother in the Black Company.... But, damned, a hot fire and warm wine would have been nicer.