If Goblin claimed we were in big trouble he would listen.
Alarms sounded everywhere. Shouts of anger at being anticipated rose outside the wall.
The civilian population began to respond. Fear swept the darkened streets. This felt bigger than usual. As always, the old-timers among the Jaicuri recalled the first coming of the Shadowmasters. Back then the enemy first wave consisted of deadly flickers of darkness.
“One-Eye. Any shadows out there?”
“Won’t be any of those, Murgen. They have to come up from Shadowcatch. Longshadow would have to be in on it.”
“Good.” I’ve seen what the shadows can do, on a small scale. The Jaicuri were right to be scared.
“I promise you some sorcery, though. It’s already gathering.”
“I love how you can always cheer me up, runt.” I surveyed the walls beyond our section. Hard to see much but it looked like any assault would meet a ready defense.
Which meant nothing if Spinner was in good form.
“Murgen!”
“What?”
“Behind you.”
I looked.
Ky Dam, Speaker of the Nyueng Bao, accompanied by a son and some grandsons, by gesture asked if he could come up to the battlements. Only the son was armed. He was a squat, emotionless man rumored to be some kind of master swordsman. I nodded. “Welcome aboard.”
The Speaker looked like he was about a thousand years older than One-Eye but was spry enough to climb without help. He didn’t have a lot of himself to move around. His hair was evenly distributed around his head and face but very little of it remained. It consisted of white wisps. He was covered with liver spots. His skin color had faded. He was more pallid than some of us northerners.
He bowed slightly.
I responded in kind, trying to match his bow exactly. That would indicate an honor between equals, which ought to earn me some good guy points because, although junior in years, I was senior here because he was on Company ground and I was Company top dog.
Clever me, I make every effort to be polite to the Speaker. And I keep reminding the guys to be respectful and protective of all Nyueng Bao, even if provoked. I am trying to encourage the taking of a longer view than is usual with ordinary people.
We have no friends anywhere in these strange lands.
Ky Dam faced the darkened plain. His presence was strong. Many Jaicuri believe he is a sorcerer. Goblin and One-Eye say he can be called a wizard in the word’s most archaic sense, of wise man.
The old boy drew a breath that seemed to enhance his aura of strength. “It will be different tonight.” He spoke mainstream Taglian with no accent.
“Their master has recovered his powers.”
The Speaker glanced at me sharply, then at Goblin and One-Eye. “Ah. So.”
“Exactly.” I’ve always wanted to do that when some old fart made cryptic noises. I couldn’t help myself when the perfect opportunity arrived.
I eyeballed the Speaker’s escort. The swordmaster seemed too squat and bulky for his reputation. Such as it was. Not a lot crosses the cultural boundary.
The grandsons looked like most Nyueng Bao men in their prime. Like if they smiled, or showed any emotion whatsoever, they would forfeit their souls. Like they had cactus plugs up their butts, in Goblin’s words.
I went on with my work while Ky Dam considered the night. His escort stayed out of my way.
Big Bucket checked in. “All set, boss.”
And the Shadowmaster’s men sounded like they were ready to play. Their horns began calling like bulls in rut. I grumbled, “It won’t be long.” They could put it off for another twenty years, though. I wouldn’t mind. I was in no hurry.
A Taglian messenger stumbled up from the street, fought for breath, croaked out word that Mogaba wanted me.
“On my way. Less than five minutes,” I told him. I scanned the darkness. “Hold the fort, Bucket.”
“Just what this outfit needs. Another comedian.”
“Oh, I’ll slay them.”
Ky Dam said something. The swordmaster squinted at the night.