Book 1 - Bleak Seasons Read Online Free

ideas of what the Black Company ought to be.
    But there was going to be one hell of a showdown if the
Shadowmaster and his circus ever hit the road.
    “Where is he?”
    “Down Three.” That he signed in finger speech. We
use deaf speech frequently if we talk business out in the open.
Bats and crows can’t read it. Neither can any of
Mogaba’s faction.
    I grunted again. “Be back.”
    “Sure.”
    I descended the steep, slippery stair, muscles aching,
anticipating the weight of the sack I would be carrying when I came
back.
    What could Goblin want? Probably a decision on something
trivial. That runt and his monocular sidekick religiously avoid
taking on any responsibility.
    I run the Old Crew, most of the time, because nobody else wants
to bother.
    We have established ourselves in an area of tall brick tenements
close to the wall, southwest of the north gate, which is the only
gate still fully functional. From the first hour of the siege we
have been improving our position.
    Mogaba thinks in terms of attack. He does not believe a war can
be won from behind stone walls. He wants to meet the Shadowlanders
on the wall, to throw them back, then to charge outside and stomp
them. He launches spoiling raids and nuisance attacks to keep them
wobbly. He won’t prepare for the possibility that they might
get inside the city in significant numbers, although almost every
attack puts Shadowlanders on our side of the wall before we can
concentrate enough to push them back.
    Someday, sometime, things won’t go Mogaba’s way.
Someday Shadowspinner’s people are going to grab a gate.
Someday we are going to see full scale city war.
    That is inevitable.
    The Old Crew is ready, Mogaba. Are you?
    We will become invisible, Your Arrogance. We have played this
game before. We read the Annals. We will be the ghosts who
kill.
    We hope.
    Shadows are the question. Shadows are the problem. What do they
know? What will they be able to find?
    Those villains have not been called Shadowmasters just because
they love the darkness.
     
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8
    With the exceptions of three hidden doors, all entrances to the
Company’s quarters have been bricked up. Likewise every
window opening below third floor levels. Alleys and breezeways are
now a maze of deathtraps. The three usable entrances can be reached
only by climbing outside stairways subject to missile fire their
entire rise. Where we could manage we have fireproofed.
    For the Black Company there is no inactivity during the days of
siege. Even One-Eye works. When I can find him.
    Every man stays too damned busy and too damned tired to dwell
upon our situation.
    After entering a concealed entrance known only to the brothers
of the Old Crew, the crows and bats, the shadows, the Nyueng Bao
watchers down the street and any Nar who care to keep track from
the north barbican, I trundled down flight after flight of steps. I
reached a basement where Big Bucket dozed beside a lonely, fitful
little candle. Quiet though I was, he cracked an eyelid. He wasted
no breath on a challenge. A ramshackle, twisted wardrobe tilted
against the wall behind him, its door hanging crookedly on one
damaged hinge. I pulled the door gently and eased inside.
    Any outsider force reaching the cellar would find the wardrobe
stuffed with desperately meager food stores.
    The cabinet fronts a tunnel. Tunnels join all our buildings.
Mogaba and anyone else interested might expect as much. If they got
down into our cellars a little work would show them what they hoped
to find.
    That ought to satisfy them.
    The tunnel entered another cellar. Several men were asleep
there, amidst tremendous clutter and a smell like a bear’s
den. I moved slowly until recognized.
    Had I been an intruder I would not have been the first never to
return from the underworld.
    Now I entered the real secret places. New Stormgard rose atop
old Jaicur. Little effort was made to demolish the old town. Many
of the earlier structures had been in excellent