Dreams of Steel

Where was he headed? Didn’t take much to guess. Down to the Shadowlands. Why was more of a mystery, but probably not so great a one.

The Howler had been one of the Taken. Some of the Shadowmasters had been fugitive Taken, too. It seemed likely the survivors had made contact with their Former comrade and had negotiated some compact whereby he would replace the Shadowmasters who had fallen.

Lady was alive and at Ghoja, if Soulcatcher hadn’t lied. Not forty miles away. He wished he could make that journey. He wished there was some way he could get a message to her. She needed to know about this.

“Crow, I don’t know if you know what we just saw, but you’d better get word to your boss. We got trouble.” He got up and walked back to the temple, where he amused himself by trying to find the hidden Company standard.

Chapter Seventeen

The everyday business of sorcery is as much stage magic as it is witchcraft. It’s misdirection, deceit, what-have-you. I kept an eye on Smoke, expecting him to pass information to the Radisha in some subtle fashion. But if he did he was too crafty for me. Which I doubt.

When you encounter the Radisha you know you’re in the presence of a powerful will. It was a shame she was trapped in her culture and had to pretend to be her brother’s creature. She might have done interesting things.

“Good afternoon,” she said. “We’re pleased that you survived.”

Was she? Maybe, because there were still Shadowmasters to be conquered. “So am I.”

She noted that Blade stood with me instead of his friends. She noted Narayan, of obvious low caste and no cleaner than the day we’d met-though I had no room to criticize. A shadow crossed her brow. “My battalion commanders,” I said. “Blade you know. Narayan, who has been helpful pulling the men together.”

She looked at Narayan intently, maybe because of his unusual name and the fact that I’d added no other. I didn’t know any other name for him. Narayan was a patronym. We had six more Narayans among the Shadar troops. Every one of them carried the personal name Singh, which means Lion.

She caught something with that closer look, started slightly, glanced at Smoke. The wizard replied with a tiny nod. She looked at Blade. “You choose to leave me?”

“I’m going with somebody who can get something done besides talk.”

That was a long speech for Blade and one that won him no sympathy. The Radisha glared.

“He’s got a point,” Swan said. “You and your brother just keep fiddling.”

“We’re more exposed.” People in positions like theirs do have to act within constraints or get pulled down. But try to explain that to men who have never been anything but momentary captains and didn’t want that power when they had it.

The Radisha rose. “Come,” she told us. As we walked, she told me, “I am pleased that you survived. Though you may find it difficult to continue doing so.”

That didn’t sound like a threat, exactly. “What?”

“You’re in a difficult position because your Captain didn’t survive.” She led us up a spiral stair to the parapet of the fortress’s tallest tower. My companions were as puzzled as I. The Radisha pointed.

Beyond the trees and construction across the river there was a large, ragtag encampment. The Radisha said, “Some fugitives crossed elsewhere and carried word north. People started arriving the day after Swan rode south. There are about two thousand already. There’ll be thousands more.”

“Who are they?” Swan asked.

“Families of legio

Scores of women were stacking wood. I asked, “What are they doing?”

“Building ghats.” Narayan sounded nonplussed. “I should have considered that.”

“What are ghats?”

“Funeral pyres,” Mather said. “The Gu

I didn’t follow. “There aren’t any dead here. Unless somebody makes some.” A symbolic gesture? Funerals in absentia?

“The practice is called suttee,” Smoke said. I looked at him. He stood straight up and wore a slimy grin. “When a man dies his wife joins him on his ghat. If he dies away from home she joins him in death when she learns of it.”

Oh? “Those women are building pyres where they can commit suicide if their husbands have been killed?”

“Yes.”

“A damnfool thing to do.”

Smoke’s smile grew. “It’s a custom as old as Taglios. With the force of law.”

I didn’t like the way he was getting happy. He thought he had a tool to use against me.

“A waste. Who takes care of the children? Never mind. I don’t care.” The concept was so alien I discounted it. I’m not sure I even believed him.

The Radisha said, “The custom is revered by everyone, even those who aren’t Gu

“There are crazies everywhere. It’s a hideous practice. It should be abolished. But I’m not here to change any social sillinesses. We’re at war. We’ve suffered a setback. A lot of our men are trapped in Dejagore. It’s not likely we can save them. More are in flight. We can save some of those. And we have to raise new levies so we can cling to what we’ve gained.”

Swan said, “Sweetie, you’re missing the point.”

“I got the point, Swan. It’s irrelevant.” The Radisha said, “You’re a woman. You have no friends. Every man of any substance in every priesthood is going to make a point of your relationship with your Captain. A large point of your failure to commit suttee. That will weigh heavily with a large portion of the population.”

“It may be the custom. It’s an idiot custom and I’ll bet it’s not universal. I shan’t dignify the suggestion-unless I decide that for bringing it up the suggester will be delivered to his suggestion.” Smoke’s grin faded.

His eyes narrowed and clouded. His jaw dropped for a second. He was staring at my hand. I realized I’d picked up Narayan’s tic, was fingering the bit of yellow cloth peeping from my waist. Smoke’s color turned ghastly. I said, “Radisha, ask these two about my background.” I indicated Swan and Mather. They’d emigrated from my empire while I was at the pi

“Admirable. But you’ll find that a lot of people won’t want to let you do that.”

I shrugged. “What they want doesn’t matter. The contract has been made. Better understand that. You people think you know more about us than we do. You must know we don’t let anybody back out on a contract.”

The Radisha looked at me intently, unafraid, curious about my confident attitude here alone in a sea of enemies.

I said, “I’ll present a list of needs tomorrow. Manpower, drayage, animals, weapons, equipment.” Half of confidence is the appearance of confidence.

Somebody shouted from the stairwell. The Radisha signalled Mather, who checked it. He came back, said, “Jah’s kicking up a fuss. Wants to see you. Guess that means he knows you’re here.” I said, “Might as well meet him head on.”

“Tell them to bring him, Mather.”

Mather passed the word. We waited. The Radisha and I eyed one another like she-leopards. I asked, “Why are you afraid of the Company?”

She didn’t bat an eye. “You know quite well.”

“I do? I’ve studied the history of the Company in detail. I don’t recall anything that would explain your attitude.”

Smoke whispered something. I think he accused me of lying. I was developing an intense dislike for him.

Jahamaraj Jah swept in like a king.

I was curious to see how the Radisha handled the handicap of her sex.

In a moment I was curious to see how Jah handled his handicap. He had made his entrance dramatically. He had looked us over. We hadn’t responded to the gloriousness of his size, his wealthy apparel, the power he represented. Now he didn’t know what to do next.