She Is The Darkness

80

At first I thought it must have been just the flake of flint biting my ass that had brought me back. That bastard hurt. But as I shuffled it out from under me I sensed movement against the starry background south of me. A voice inquired, “Are you awake now, Standardbearer?”

Sindawe. “No doubt about it. And I was having such a wonderful dream, too.”

“Since the Old Man wants you to keep an eye on us I thought it would be useful if you saw what’s happening.” Unlike most Nar, Sindawe had a sense of humor. It included a major irreverence for authority, though he represented authority himself. He must have driven Mogaba to distraction back when they were best friends. Unless Mogaba started out the same way and grew out of it. A lot of sour old farts start out as all right guys.

I had to roll onto my hands and knees to find the leverage to get up. “Stiff as a log,” I grumbled.

“Buy a better mattress.”

“What I need is a better body. Like one that’s about fifteen years younger. All right. What’s going on?”

“Thought you’d want to see what’s happening at the Shadowgate.”

“Nothing bad, apparently, or you wouldn’t be hunking around in the dark.” There were no fires tonight. There were no other bold souls wandering around like Sindawe, either. But the most remarkable lack was that of flying fireballs. Over here. There was an occasional pop on the far side of Overlook.

Sindawe headed uphill, though that was not necessary. I could feel the Lance. It seemed to be awakening. I could see the sparks as the shadows tested my leather ropes. I sensed frustrated motion beyond the sparks.

I felt no fear at all.

Always before there had been fear anytime there were shadows near enough to be sensed.

The shadows grew more energetic. So did the sparks. They began to crackle and pop. The soldiers showed remarkable restraint. Not one man went bugfuck and sprayed the hillside with fireballs. They felt no fear, either. Or maybe they were just veteran enough to understand that you can fool yourself. Especially after a trial like last night.

The stupid and the nervous would be over yonder in that trench that the survivors had so grudgingly dug.

“Sky’s clearing,” I observed, maybe just for something to say. Over the rise ahead that was as clear as it was when my ghostwalks took me up above the clouds.

“Uhm.” Sindawe seldom wasted words on small talk.

“Recognize any of those constellations?” I did not. It was like I was looking at a completely foreign sky.

“Too many stars to see any patterns.”

“The Noose,” said a voice from behind me. I started. I had heard no one come up. And I would not have expected this speaker to move quietly.

“Mother?” The sparks from the Shadowgate generated just enough light to reveal where she stood. A form that may have been Thai Dei loomed behind her, staring into the southern night.

“It was in my mother’s book. Part of a fairy tale nobody understood. That nobody knew where it came from anymore. Thirteen stars that form a noose.”

I saw nothing of the sort. I said so. Mother Gota must have been stunned into another century, so out of character had she become. She grabbed me by the arm, pulled my head down, made me sight along her pointing arm. Finally, I admitted, “I see something that looks like a bottom-up water ladle right there above what must be the skyline.”

“That is it, you fool Stone Soldier. Three stars are hidden by the earth.” She remained particularly intense.

“You recognized it, with three stars missing, from a description in a childhood story?”

A particularly brilliant burst amongst the leather ropes revealed the woman staring at me bedecked in an expression of profound bewilderment. It also revealed Uncle Doj behind her.

He wore a look of exasperation which vanished the instant he realized I could see him.

“Gota. There you are. Nephew. What is this display?”

From much closer than I would have believed he could be, Thai Dei said, “The Soldiers of Darkness have stopped the leak of death.” He spoke in rapid Nyueng Bao. He used several words that were not clear to me. I counted on context to unravel their meanings.

Uncle Doj told Mother Gota, “I have cautioned you about your tongue—”

“I’ll caution you, you mountebank.” I think “mountebank” is what she meant. Wrapped up in the word she chose was a root meaning “fraud,” with a superlative prefix hung out front.

It sounded like a cousin word to “priest.” Blade would have been amused. I was amused.

Gota had restrained herself with Doj in the past. Compared to how she had berated everyone else. She deferred to Uncle usually, albeit with poor grace. Now they squabbled like children.

I got the impression that their quarrel had nothing to do with what they really wanted to fight about. Even so, the tiff was interesting where I could follow it.

Thai Dei’s special mission in life is to poop parties. He embarrassed those two silent long enough to get in the news that they were quarreling amidst all the Bone Warriors in the world, at least one of whom understood their blather.

Doj responded instantly. He shut his mouth and went for a walk. I said, “I hope some nervous type don’t pick him off in the dark.” Thai Dei went after him.

Gota shut up only because Doj’s departure left her to carry both sides of the argument. She considered starting up with me. But she recalled that, whatever I was to her daughter, I was a Soldier of Darkness, too. Anyway, I was not Nyueng Bao and only the worms of the earth are lower than that.

I was in a peckish mood myself, having been wakened prematurely. I said, “I rather enjoyed that.”

Gota made a sputtery noise as she stalked away.

Of the general darkness I asked, “Anybody know anything about a constellation called the Noose? Or any stories about it?”

Nobody knew anything. Naturally.

Over the next several days I asked the question of everybody I ran into and always got a negative answer. Even Narayan Singh, a logical resource for information about nooses, seemed unfamiliar with the constellation. He did not say so in so many words, of course, but Lady was familiar with Deceiver lore and knew nothing, nor was she able to pry anything out of the living saint.

Poor guy seemed destined to be the living martyr Narayan Singh. The heartline of his existence consisted of unrelenting terror.

After assuring myself that the Shadowgate was holding, I ambled back down to my bunker. The standard seemed almost aglow with power. Something noteworthy was going on there. I would have to go see Croaker. If my inner thigh healed enough. If I ever got any sleep.

My in-laws were no problem. None had gone back to our nasty little bunker. I had its stone floor and stink to myself.

I was asleep about the time I chunked my head onto my rock pillow.