Glen Cook Black Company 09 Water Sleeps

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"Worry about it now. Let Swan sergeant for you. He's experienced and he's got
no choice but to throw in with us now. Catcher will never believe that he
didn't betray her."
"I hadn't thought of that."
"You don't have to do everything yourself, Sleepy. If you're going to take
charge, you need to learn to tell people what needs doing, then get out of the
way and let them do it. You keep hanging over their shoulders nagging like
somebody's mother, you aren't going to get much cooperation. You seduced that
fat boy yet?"
"What?"
"That local-yokel captain. The one who couldn't keep in step if you painted
his feet different colors. You got him wrapped up yet?"
"You're zigging when I'm zagging. You lost me completely."
"Let me draw you a picture. You forget to tell him Catcher is going to stop
by. You get him to make a deal. He keeps his job. He helps us out so he can
get us out of his hair. When he isn't looking, you fix him up so when the
shitstorm starts, he don't have no choice but to take his chances with us."
"I have him wrapped up, then. Seventy percent."
"Hey. Blow in his ear. Throw a liplock on his love muscle. Do whatever you
have to. If Catcher loses him, she won't ever trust anybody else down here,
either."
Goblin used almost the same language as Murgen had when I stopped to visit
again. He found Murgen's advice fully excellent. "Grab fat boy by his prong
and never let go. Give him a little squeeze once in a while to keep him
smiling."
"I've probably said it before. You're one cynical mud-sucker."
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"It's all those years of watching out for One-Eye that done it to me. I was a
sweet, innocent young thing when I joined this outfit. Not unlike yourself."
"You were born wicked and cynical."
Goblin chuckled. "How much stuff do you think you need to collect before we go
up the hill? How long do you think it'll take?"
"It won't take forever if Suvrin cooperates."
"Never, ever, forget that you don't have long. I can't emphasize that enough.
Soulcatcher is coming. You've never seen her when she's all worked up."
"The Kiaulune wars don't count?" He must have seen something extreme. He was
determined to pound the point home.
"The Kiaulune wars don't count. She was just entertaining herself with those."
I forced myself to make the visit I had been avoiding.
The Daughter of Night wore ankle shackles. She resided inside an iron cage
heavily impregnated with spells that caused ever-increasing agony as their
victim moved farther away. She could escape but that would hurt. If she pushed
it hard enough, she would die.
It appeared that every possible step had been taken to keep her under control.
Except the lethal step reason urged me to take. I had no more motive for
keeping her alive--except that I had given my word.
The men all took turns being exposed to her, in pairs, at mealtimes and such.
Sahra had not been lax. She appreciated the danger the girl represented.
My first glimpse left me stricken with envy. Despite her disadvantages, she
had kept herself beautiful, looking much like her mother in a fresher body.
But something infinitely older and darker looked out through her pretty blue
eyes. For a moment she struck me not as the Daughter of Night, but as the
darkness itself.
She did have plenty of time to commune with her spiritual mother.
She smiled as though aware of the serpents of dark temptation slithering the
black corridors of my mind. I wanted to bed her. I wanted to murder her. I
wanted to run away, begging for mercy. It took an exercise of will to remind
myself that Kina and her children were not evil in the sense that northerners
or even my Vehdna co-religionists understood evil.
Nevertheless... she was the darkness.
I stepped back, tossed the tent flap open so my ally, daylight, could come
inside. The girl lost her smile. She backed to the far side of her cage. I
could think of nothing to say. There was really nothing we could say to one
another. I had no inclination to gloat and little news of the world outside to
report, which might motivate her to do something besides wait.
She had her spiritual mother's patience, that was sure.
A blow from behind rocked me. I clawed at my stubby little sword.
White wings mussed my nattily arranged hair. Talons dug into my shoulder. The
Daughter of Night stared at the white crow and revealed real emotion for the
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first time in a long time. Her confidence wavered. Fear leaked through. She
pressed back against the bars behind her.
"Have you two met?" I asked.
The crow said something like, "Wawk! Wiranda!"
The girl began to shake. If possible, she became even paler. Her jaw seemed
clenched so tight her teeth ought to be cracking. I made a mental note to
discuss this with Murgen. He knew something about the crow.
What could rattle the girl so badly?
The crow laughed. It whispered, "Sister, sister," and launched itself back [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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