The Lady broke away and let her go, though she could have maintained the attacks almost indefinitely.
We touched down. I scrambled over the side even before the Lady and in a calculated, melodramatic gesture, kissed the ground. She laughed.
She had had a great time.
“You let them go.”
“I made my point.”
“She’ll shift tactics.”
“Of course she will. But for the moment the hammer is in my hand. By not using it I’ve told her something. She’ll have thought it over by the time we get there.”
“I suppose.”
“You didn’t do badly for a novice. Go get drunk or something. And stay out of Limper’s way.”
“Yeah.”
What I did was go to the quarters assigned me and try to stop shaking.
Forty-Two
Homecoming
The Lady and I entered the Plain of Fear twelve days after the aerial skirmish near Horse. We traveled on horseback, on second-grade nags, along the old trade trail the denizens of the Plain respect with free passage most of the time. Clad in castoffs, for the trail, the Lady was no longer a beauty. No kick-out-of-bed dog, but no eye-catcher.
We entered the Plain aware that by a pessimistic estimate, we had about three months before the Great Tragic River opened the Great Barrow.
The menhirs noted our presence immediately. I sensed them out there, observing. I had to point it out. For this venture the Lady had schooled herself to eschew anything but the most direct and raw sensory input. She would train herself to mortal ways during our ride so she would make no mistake once we reached the Hole.
The woman has guts.
I guess anyone willing to play heads-up power games with the Dominator has to have them.
I ignored the lurking menhirs and concentrated on explaining the ways of the Plain, revealing the thousand little traps that, at the least, might betray the Lady. It was what a man would do on bringing a newcomer to the land. It would not seem unusual.
Three days into the Plain we narrowly missed being caught in a change storm. She was awed. “What was that?” she asked.
I explained the best I could. Along with all the speculations. She, of course, had heard it all before. But seeing is believing, as they say.
Not long after that we came on the first of the coral reefs, which meant we were in the deep Plain, among the great strangenesses. “What name will you use?” I asked. “I better get used to it,”
“I think Ardath.” She grinned.
“You have a cruel sense of humor.”
“Perhaps.”
I do believe she was having fun at pretending to be ordinary. Like some great lord’s lady slumming. She even took her turns at the cook fire. To my stomach’s despair.
I wondered what the menhirs made of our relationship. No matter the pretense, there was a brittleness, a formality, that was hard to overcome. And the best we could fake was a partnership, which I am certain they found strange. When did man and woman travel together thus, without sharing bedroll and such?
The question of pursuing verisimilitude that far never arose. And just as well. My panic, my terror, at the suggestion would have been such that nothing else would have arisen.
Ten miles from the Hole we breasted a hill and encountered a menhir. It stood beside the way, twenty feet of weird stone, doing nothing. The Lady asked in touristy fashion, “Is that one of the talking stones?”
“Yep. Hi, rock. I’m home.”
Old rock didn’t have anything to say. We passed on. When I looked back it was gone.
Little had changed. As we crested the last ridge, though, we saw a forest of walking trees crowding the creek. A stand of menhirs both living and dead guarded the crossing. The backwards camel-centaurs gamboled among them. Old Father Tree stood by himself, tinkling, though there was not a breath of wind. Up high, a single buzzardlike avian soared against shattered clouds, watching. One or another of its kind had followed us for days. Of a human presence there was no sign. What did Darling do with her army? She could not pack those men into the Hole.
For a moment I was frightened that I had returned to an untenanted keep. Then, as we splashed across the creek, Elmo and Silent stepped out of the coral.
I dove off my animal and gathered them into a monster hug. They returned it, and in best Black Company tradition did not ask a single question.
“Goddamn,” I said. “Goddamn, it’s good to see you. I heard you guys was wiped out out west somewhere.”
Elmo looked at the Lady with just the slightest hint of curiosity.
“Oh. Elmo. Silent. This is Ardath.”
She smiled. “So pleased to meet you. Croaker has said so much about you.”
I had not said a word. But she had read the Annals. She dismounted and offered her hand. Each took it, baffled, for only Darling, in their experience, expected treatment as an equal.
“Well, let’s go down,” I said. “Let’s go down. I’ve got a thousand things to report.”
“Yeah?” Elmo said. And that said a lot, for he looked up our backtrail as he said it.
Some people who had gone away with me had not come back.
“I don’t know. We had half the Taken after us. We got separated. I couldn’t find them again. But I never heard anything about them being captured. Let’s go down. See Darling. I’ve got incredible news. And get me something to eat. We’ve been eating each other’s cooking forever, and she’s a worse cook than I am.”
“Guck,” Elmo said, and slapped me across the back. “And you lived?”
“I’m one tough old buzzard, Elmo. You ought to know. Shit, man, I...”I realized I was chattering like a whacko. I grinned.
Silent signed, “Welcome home, Croaker. Welcome home.”
“Come,” I told the Lady as we reached the entrance to the Hole, and took her hand. “It’ll seem like the pit till your eyes get used to it. And brace yourself for the smell.”
Gods, the stench! Gag a maggot.
All kinds of excitement down below. It faded into studied indifference as we passed, then resumed behind us. Silent led straight to the conference room. Elmo split off to order us up something to eat.
As we entered I realized that I still held the Lady’s hand. She gave me half a smile, in which there was a hell of a lot of nervousness. Talk about strutting into the dragon’s lair. Bold old Croaker gave her hand a squeeze.
Darling looked ragged. So did the Lieutenant. A dozen others were there, few of whom I knew. They must have come aboard after the imperials evacuated the perimeter of the Plain.
Darling hugged me for a long time. So long I became flustered. We are not touchy people, she and I. She finally backed off and gave the Lady a look in which there was a hint of jealousy.
I signed, “This is Ardath. She will help me translate. She knows the old languages well.”
Darling nodded. She asked no questions. So much was I trusted.
The food arrived. Elmo dragged in a table and chairs and shooed out everyone but myself, the Lieutenant, himself, Silent, and the Lady. He might have sent her away, too, but remained unsure of her standing with me.
We ate, and as we did I related my tale in snatches, when my hands and mouth were not full. There were some rough moments, especially when I told Darling that Raven was alive.
In retrospect I think it was harder on me than on her. I was afraid she would get all excited and hysterical. She did nothing of the sort.
First, she flat refused to believe me. And I could understand that, for till he disappeared Raven had been the cornerstone of her universe emotionally. She could not see him not including her in his biggest lie ever just so he could slip away to go poke around the Barrowland. That made no sense to her. Raven never lied to her before.
Made no sense to me, either. But then, as I have noted before, I suspected there was more in the shadows than anyone was admitting. I sniffed the faintest whiff that maybe Raven was running from instead of to.