Shadow Games

Chapter Three: A TAVERN IN TAGLIOS

Willow scrunched a little more comfortably into his chair. The girls giggled and dared one another to touch his cornsilk hair. The one with the most promising eyes reached, ran her fingers down its length. Willow looked across the room, winked at Cordy Mather.

This was the life—till their fathers and brothers got wise. This was every man's dream—with the same old lethal risks a-sneaking. If it kept on, and did not catch up, he'd soon weigh four hundred pounds and be the happiest slug in Taglios.

Who would have thought it? A simple tavern in a straitlaced burg like this. A hole in the wall like those that graced every other street corner back home, here such a novelty they couldn't help getting rich. If the priests didn't get over their inertia and shove a stick into the spokes.

Of course, it helped them being exotic outlanders that the whole city wanted to see. Even those priests. And their little chickies. Especially their little brown daughters.

A long, insane journey getting here, but worth every dreadful step now.

He folded his hands upon his chest and let the girls take what liberties they wanted. He could handle it. He could put up with it.

He watched Cordy tap another barrel of the bitter, third-rate green beer he'd brewed. These Taglian fools paid three times what it was worth. What kind of a place never ran into beer before? Hell. The kind of place guys with no special talents and itchy feet dream of finding.

Cordy brought a mug over. He said, "Swan, this keeps on, we're going to have to hire somebody to help me brew. We're going to be tapped out in a couple days."

"Why worry? How long can it last? Those priest characters are starting to smolder now. They're going to start looking for some excuse to shut us down. Worry about finding another racket as sweet, not about making more beer faster. What?"

"What do you mean, what?"

"You got a grim look all of a sudden."

"The blackbird of doom just walked in the front door."

Willow twisted so he could see that end of the room. Sure enough, Blade had come home. Tall, lean, ebony, head shaved to a polish, muscles rippling with the slightest movement, he looked like some kind of gleaming statue. He looked around without approval. Then he strode to Willow's table, took a seat. The girls gave him the eye. He was as exotic as Willow Swan.

"Come to collect your share and tell us how lousy we are, corrupting these children?" Willow asked.

Blade shook his head. "That old spook Smoke's having dreams again. The Woman wants you."

"Shit." Swan dropped his feet to the floor. Here was the fly in the ointment. The Woman wouldn't leave them alone. "What is it this time? What's he doing? Hemp?"

"He's a wizard. He don't need to do nothing to get obnoxious."

"Shit," Swan said again. "What do you think, we just do a fade-out here? Sell the rest of Cordy's rat piss and head back up the river?"

A big, slow grin spread across Blade's face. "Too late, boy. You been chosen. You can't run fast enough. That Smoke, he might be a joke if he was to open shop up where you came from, but around here he's the bad boss spook pusher. You try to head out, you're going to find your toes tied in knots."

"That the official word?"

"They didn't say it that way. That's what they meant."

"So what did he dream this time? Why drag us in?"

"Shadowmasters. More Shadowmasters. Been a big meet at Shadowcatch, he says. They're going to stop talking and start doing. He says Moonshadow got the call. Says we'll be seeing them in Taglian territory real soon now."

"Big deal. Been trying to sell us that since the day we got here, practically."

Blade's face lost all its humor. "It was different this time, man. There's scared and scared, you know what I mean? And Smoke and the Woman was the second kind this time. And it ain't just Shadowmasters they got on the brain now. Said to tell you the Black Company is coming. Said you'd know what that means."

Swan grunted as if hit in the stomach. He stood, drained the beer Cordy had brought, looked around as if unable to believe what he saw. "Damned-foolest thing I ever heard, Blade. The Black Company? Coming here?"

"Said that's what's got the Shadowmasters riled, Willow. Said they're rattled good. This's the last free country north of them, under the river. And you know what's on the other side of Shadowcatch."

"I don't believe it. You know how far they'd have to come?"

"About as far as you and Cordy." Blade had joined Willow and Cordwood Mather two thousand miles into their journey south.

"Yeah. You tell me, Blade. Who in the hell besides you and me and Cordy would be crazy enough to travel that far without any reason?"

"They got a reason. According to Smoke."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. You go up there like the Woman says. Maybe she'll tell you."

"I'll go. We'll all go. Just to stall. And first chance we get we're going to get the hell out of Taglios. If they got the Shadowmasters stirred up down there, and the Black Company coming in, I don't want to be anywhere around."

Blade leaned back so one of the girls could wiggle in closer. His expression was questioning.

Swan said, "I seen what those bastards could do back home. I saw Roses caught between them and... Hell. Just take my word for it, Blade. Big mojo, and all bad. If they're coming for real, and we're still around when they show, you might end up wishing we'd let those crocs go ahead and snack on you."

Blade never had been too clear on why he had been thrown to the crocodiles. And Willow was none too clear on why he had talked Cordy into dragging him out and taking him along. Though Blade had been a right enough guy since. He'd paid back the debt.

"I think you ought to help them, Swan," Blade said. "I like this town. I like the people. Only thing wrong with them is they don't have sense enough to burn all the temples down."

"Damnit, Blade, I ain't the guy can help."

"You and Cordy are the only ones around who know anything about soldiering."

"I was in the army for two months. I never even learned how to keep in step. And Cordy don't have the stomach for it anymore. All he wants is to forget that part of his life."

Cordy had overheard most of what had been said. He came over. "I'm not that bad off, Willow. I don't object to soldiering when the cause is right. I just was with the wrong bunch up there. I'm with Blade. I like Taglios. I like the people. I'm willing to do what I can to see they don't get worked over by the Shadowmasters."

"You heard what he said? The Black Company?"

"I heard. I also heard him say they want to talk about it. I think we ought to go find out what's going on before we run our mouths and say what we're not going to do."

"All right. I'm going to change. Hold the fort, and all that, Blade. Keep your mitts off the one in the red. I got first dibs." He stalked off.

Cordy Mather grinned. "You're catching on how to handle Willow, Blade."

"If this's going down the way I think, he don't need handling. He'll be the guy out front when they try to stop the Shadowmasters. You could roast him in coals and he'd never admit it, but he's got a thing for Taglios."

Cordy Mather chuckled. "You're right. He's finally found him a home. And no one is going to move him out. Not the Shadowmasters or the Black Company."

"They as bad as he lets on?"

"Worse. Lots worse. You take all the legends you ever heard back home, and everything you heard tell around here, and anything you can imagine, and double it, and maybe you're getting close. They're mean and they're tough and they're good. And maybe the worst thing about them is that they're tricky like you can't imagine tricky. They've been around four, five hundred years, and no outfit lasts that long without being so damned nasty even the gods don't screw with them."

"Mothers, hide your babies," Blade said. "Smoke had him a dream."

Cordy's face darkened. "Yeah. I've heard tell wizards maybe make things come true by dreaming them first. Maybe we ought to cut Smoke's throat."

Willow was back. He said, "Maybe we ought to find out what's going on before we do anything."

Cordy chuckled. Blade grinned. Then they began shooing the marks out of the tavern—each making sure an appointment was understood by one or more of the young ladies.