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If we succeed in this dark war, victory will come largely because we can "walk with the ghost."

"I'm ready to go," One-Eye said.

"You come back fast for an old fart."

"You keep running your jaw, Kid, you're never gonna get a chance to find out what it's like to be old enough to deserve respect but not to get none from pups like you."

"Don't go picking on me because Goblin ran out on you."

"Where the hell is that stunted mouse turd, anyway?"

I knew. Or thought I knew. I walk with the ghost. One-Eye did not need to know, though, so I did not clue him in. "Lift the damned litter, limberdick."

"I just know you're going to enjoy life as a polecat, Kid."

We hoisted the litter. Smoke made a gurgling sound. Foamy spit dribbled from the corner of his mouth. "Hustle up. I need to get his mouth cleaned out before he drowns himself."

One-Eye saved his breath. We clumped down the stairs. Smoke began making strangling noises. I kicked the door open and went through without looking outside first. We got into the street.

"Put him down," I snapped. "Then cover us while I take care of him." Who knew what might be watching? Taglian nights conceal countless curious eyes. Everyone wants to know what the Black Company is doing. We take it as a given that some of those are people we do not even know yet.

Paranoia is a way of life.

I knelt beside the litter, tipped it a little and turned Smoke's head. It flopped like he had no bones in his neck. Smoke gurgled and hacked some more.

"Hush," One-Eye said.

I looked up. A tall Shadar watchman was headed our way, carrying a lantern. One of the Old Man's innovations, the night-time foot patrols have crippled enemy espionage efforts. Now our creativity was about to turn around on us.

The turbaned soldier walked past so close his grey pants actually brushed me. But he sensed nothing.

One-Eye is no master sorcerer but he does a hell of a job when he concentrates.

Smoke made that noise again.

The Shadar stopped, looked back. His eyes widened. They were about all that could be seen between his turban and his massive beard. I do not know what he saw but he touched his forehead and swept his fingers in a quick half circle ending over his heart. That was a ward against evil common to all the peoples of Taglios.

He moved on hurriedly.

"What did you do?" I asked.

"Never mind," One-Eye said. "Let's get him loaded." The wagon was waiting right where Sleepy was supposed to leave it. "He's going to report something. He'll have his whole family here in a few minutes."

The watchmen were equipped with whistles. Our man remembered his and started tooting as One-Eye lifted his end of the litter. In seconds another whistle answered. "He going to keep that shit up?" One-Eye asked.

"I'll lay him on his side. The phlegm should drain off. But you're the guy who knows the medical stuff. If he's coming down with pneumonia you better start working on him now."

"Go teach granny to suck eggs, Kid. Just shove the little bastard in the wagon, then get your ass back through that door."

"Shit. I think I forgot to wedge it open."

"I'd call you a dumb shit but you keep ragging me about stating the obvious. Unh!" He swung his end of the litter into the bed of the wagon. Good boy Sleepy had remembered to leave the tailgate down, exactly as he had been instructed. "I remembered for you."

"You were the last one out anyway." Damn, would I be glad when Goblin came back and One-Eye could get back to feuding with him. I shoved my end of the litter.

One-Eye was scrambling up to the driver's seat already. "Don't forget to get that gate up."

I twisted Smoke's shoulders so his mouth would drain, raised the tailgate and dropped the oak pins into their slots. "You check on him as soon as you're clear."

"Shut up and get out of here."

Whistles were shrieking all around us now. Sounded like every watchman on duty was closing in.

Their interest was going to attract that of others. I ran for the postern door. Steel tires began to rattle on cobblestones behind me.

One-Eye was going to get a chance to test our cover story.

3

It is a long trail from that postern to the apartment I call home. On the way I stopped by Croaker's cell to let him know what had happened while we were getting Smoke out of the house. He asked, "You see anything besides the Shadar?"

"No. But the uproar is going to attract attention. If they hear that One-Eye was involved people interested in us will start poking around. They'll be sure something was going on even if One-Eye sells his story to the watchmen."

Croaker grunted. He stared at the papers he had been trying to read. He was bone-tired. "Nothing we can do about it now. Go get some sleep. We're going ourselves in a day or two."

"Uhn." I did not look forward to traveling, especially during wintertime. "I'm not really looking forward to this."

"Hey. I'm older and fatter than you are."

"But you'll be going toward something. Lady is down there."

He grunted unenthusiastically. Any more you had to wonder about his commitment to his woman. Ever since the trouble with Blade... None of my business. "Good night, Murgen."

"Yeah. Same to you, chief." He did not want to be civil, that was fine with me.

I headed for my apartment, though there was nothing for me there but a bed that would give me no rest. With Sarie gone the place was a wasteland of the heart.

I closed the door behind me, looked around like maybe she would jump out laughing and tell me it was all a bad joke. But the joke was not over yet. Mother Gota still had not finished cleaning up the mess left by the Strangler raid. And, pushy though she was, she had not touched anything in my work area, where I was still sorting the burned remains of several of these Annals.

I must have gone drifting with my thoughts. Suddenly I was aware that I was not alone. I got a knife out in half a heartbeat.

I was not in trouble. The three people staring at me belonged by family right. They were my in-laws, Sarie's brother Thai Dei with his arm in a sling, Uncle Doj and Mother Gota. Of the three only the old woman ever said much. And nothing she said was ever anything I wanted to hear. She could find the bad side of anything and complain about it forever. "What?" I asked.

Uncle Doj countered, "Did you drift away again?" He sounded troubled. "When did you go? Dejagore?"

"It wasn't that. That hasn't happened for a while." All three continued to stare at me like I had something hanging out of my nose. "What?"

Uncle Doj said, "There is something different about you."

"Shit. Goddamned right there is. I lost a wife that meant more to me than—" I clamped down on the rage. I turned toward the door. No good. Smoke was in a wagon headed south. They continued to stare at me.

It was like this every time I came back after going out without letting Thai Dei tag along. They did not like me getting out of their sight.

That and their stares gave me a little shiver of the sort of feeling Croaker got every time he looked at one of the Nyueng Bao. Sarie being gone left a vacuum bigger than the one that emptied my heart. She had been the soul that made this weird bunch work.

Uncle Doj asked, "Do you wish to walk the Path of the Sword?"

The Path of the Sword, the complex of ritualized exercises associated with his two-handed longsword style of fighting could become almost as restful and free of pain as was walking with the ghost. Although Uncle Doj has been teaching me since I became part of the family, it is still difficult for me to get into the sort of trance the Path requires.