Bleak Seasons

63

Was Mogaba happy to see Goblin and One-Eye, and them looking so fit? You better believe he wasn't. But he did not pursue his displeasure. He just ticked something on his mental get-even slate. He would make me even more unhappy than he had planned. Later.

"Can you sit up?" he asked, almost like he cared.

"Yeah. I made sure. That's partly why I took so long. That and I wanted to make sure I'd stay rational."

"Oh?"

"I've been suffering severe fevers and dysentery for over a week. Last night they took me out and threw me in the water to cool me down. That worked."

"I see. Come to the table, please."

Goblin and One-Eye helped me into a chair. They put on a fine show.

There were just six people in the conference chamber, us three and Mogaba, Ochiba and Sindawe. Through the window behind Mogaba I saw water and hills. And crows. They squabbled over space on the window sill, though none would come inside. An albino turned an especially baleful pink eye my way.

I suppose we looked too hungry.

For one instant I saw that same room in another time, with Lady and some of the same faces around the same table. Mogaba was not among them. The window behind them opened on greyness.

One-Eye pinched my earlobe. "Kid, now ain't the time."

Mogaba watched intently.

"Less recovered than I thought," I explained. I wondered what the vision meant. And vision it was because it was too fully realized for imagination.

Mogaba settled into a chair opposite me. He pretended solicitousness, avoided his usual assertiveness.

"We face numerous grave problems, Standardbearer. They are out there and indifferent to whatever animosities we have developed amongst ourselves."

Goddamn! Was he going to turn reasonable on me?

"They will be there whether or not we want to believe the Lieutenant or Captain survived. We will have to face them because I do not expect to be relieved any time soon."

I would not argue with that.

"We would be better off had Lady not interfered this last time. We are isolated and trapped now because the Shadowmaster was forced to find a solution for managing two fronts."

I nodded. We were in a worse situation. On the other hand, we would not have yowling hordes piling over the wall every few nights anymore. Nor would Mogaba be flinging men hither and yon without regard for their lives, just trying to irritate the Southerners into doing something stupid.

Mogaba glanced out the window. We could see two Shadowlander patrols raising dust in the hills. "He can starve us out now."

"Maybe."

Mogaba grimaced but controlled his anger. "Yes?"

"For no rational reason I feel confident that our friends will break us out."

"I must confess that I remain a stranger to that sort of faith. Although I concede the importance of maintaining an optimistic aspect in front of the soldiers."

Was I going to argue? No. He was more right than I could be.

"So, Standardbearer, how do we survive a protracted siege when most of our food stores are exhausted? How do we recover the standard once we do get out of these straits?"

"I don't have any answers. Although I think the standard is in friendly hands already." Why was he interested? Almost every time we talked he asked something about the standard. Did he believe possessing it would legitimize him?

"How so?" He was surprised.

"The Widowmaker that was here the first time carried the real standard."

"You're sure?"

"I know it," I promised.

"Then share your thoughts about food."

"We could try fishing." Wisecracking was not a good idea with Mogaba. It just made Mogaba angry.

"Ain't no joke," Goblin snapped. "That water comes down here from regular rivers. There's got to be fish."

The little shit wasn't as stupid as he acted sometimes.

Mogaba frowned. "Do we have anyone who knows anything about fishing?" he asked Sindawe.

"I doubt it." They meant among their Taglian soldiers, of course. Nar are warriors, back for a dozen generations. They do not sully themselves doing unheroic work.

I was negligent. I failed to mention that the Nyueng Bao came from country where fishing was, probably, a way of life.

"It's a thought," Mogaba told me. "And there is always baked crow." He glanced back at the window. "But most Taglians won't eat flesh."

"A conundrum," I agreed.

"I will not surrender."

No reply seemed adequate.

"You have no resources either?"

"Less than you," I lied. We still had a little rice from the catacombs. But not much. We were stretching ourselves every way possible, in accordance with hints recorded in the Annals. We did not look like famine victims. Not quite yet.

We looked, I noted, less well fed than did the Nar.

"Suggestions for reducing the number of unproductive mouths?"

"I'm letting my worn out Taglians and any locals who want build rafts and go. But I don't let them take anything with them."

He controlled his anger again. "That does consume valuable timber. But it is another thought worth consideration."

I studied Sindawe and Ochiba. They remained jet statues. They were not even breathing, it seemed. They expressed no opinions.

Mogaba glared at me. "I feared this meeting would be this nonproductive. You haven't even thrown the Annals in my face."

"The Annals aren't magic. What they say about sieges is plain commonsense stuff. Be stubborn. Ration. Don't support the nonproductive. Control the spread of plague. Don't exhaust your enemy's patience if there is no hope of outlasting him. If surrender is inevitable do it while your enemy is still amenable to terms."

"This enemy never offered."

I wondered about that, although the Shadowmasters did have a tendency to think like gods.

"Thank you, Standardbearer. We will examine our options and keep you informed of what we mean to do."

Goblin and One-Eye helped me ease my chair back. They settled me into the litter. Mogaba said nothing else and I could think of nothing I wanted to tell him. The other Nar just stood there awkwardly and watched us go.

"What was that in aid of?" I asked once we were clear. "I expected yelling and threats."

"He wanted to pick your brains," Goblin said.

"While he made up his mind if he was going to kill you," One-Eye added cheerfully.

"Oh, that's real encouraging."

"He did decide, Murgen. And he didn't pick the option you want to hear. It's time to start being real careful."

We did make it home unharmed.