Free Book 2 - She Is The Darkness by Glen Cook

conflagration, over the water,
narrowly missed a small boat. The men aboard the boat tried to row
harder but began to catch crabs and get in one another’s way.
A swarm of points of light darted at them, not only blue but green,
yellow, pink and a stunning shade of violet. A man jumped up and
flailed around after a ball hit him in the throat. He fell
overboard. His antics rocked the boat dangerously. It shipped
water, raised its stern into the air momentarily.
    A ball of light zipped through its bottom, leaving a shimmering
hole.
    Most of the balls missed. Those continued across the lake,
slowing gradually. Eventually they just drifted on the breeze and
faded away.
    The excitement brought a flock of crows fast. They circled
overhead. Two big ones dropped onto Croaker’s shoulders. The
others scattered in pairs. The boat sank.
    It had been bound for an island that was little more than a rock
outcrop boasting a dozen scraggly pine trees and some halfhearted
brush. A crow that got close suddenly folded up and went ballistic,
hit the water and floated without twitching.
    Croaker glared. “Murgen. Move down the foreslope, out of
the wind. Find a place to dig in for the night. Line troops only on
this side of the ridge. I want a double watch kept. I want two
battery wagons up, trained on that island.”
    His shoulder ornaments were agitated now. I did not mention
them. He was starting to go spooky and he did not answer questions
anyway.
    One of the ravens squawked. Croaker grunted back. He dismounted,
grabbed an extra bamboo pole from a nearby soldier, headed
downhill. His mount followed the trail he broke.
    The soldiers who had begun to gather followed Croaker’s
example. They formed a skirmish line as they advanced. I could not
unsling my own bamboo pole because I was mounted and burdened with
the standard. I followed the men on foot. Uncle Doj formed a
one-man rearguard.
    Two Shadowlander militiamen broke cover suddenly. They stumbled
toward the water’s edge. Arrows swarmed.
    Standing orders were to take no prisoners. The Shadowlanders had
been warned. They had been given four years’ grace. They had
made their choices.
    Afterward the soldiers began to settle in groups, finding what
shelter they could, starting their cooking fires. More and more
came up to the line. Our staff group gathered in the lee of a
shattered boulder, everybody grumbling and shivering. Pessimists
started talking about the chances of snow.
    I planted the standard. Uncle Doj and I got ready to make
supper. There were no servants in this army. Servants ate up food
soldiers could fix for themselves.
    Supper would be rice and dried fruit. Croaker and I would add a
few strips of jerked beef. Uncle Doj would add some fish meal to
his rice. Many of the soldiers would eat no flesh because of
religious proscriptions.
    I said, “Maybe we can find out if there are any fish in
this lake.”
    The Old Man looked out there. “Looks like there could be
trout.” But he did not say anything about maybe catching
them.
    The battery wagons came up. Each had a bed four feet wide by ten
feet long packed with bamboo tubes. They were the ultimate product
of Lady’s arsenals. The Captain supervised their positioning.
He wanted them set just right.
    Under this overcast it would not be long before it was dark
enough for shadows to prowl.
    East of the lake, where Lady’s left wing division was
advancing through very rugged country, a single point of light shot
into the air, sped southward, lost velocity and began to lose
altitude slowly. Balls in several colors followed quickly.
    The soldiers stirred nervously.
    A whiff sound came from a nearby wagon. A green fireball
streaked out over the lake, its light reflecting off the water. The
breeze had died. The lake’s surface was growing calm.
    I was more nervous than any of the soldiers. I had seen what
those stinking little shadowweavers could do. I had seen men scream
out their lives while something invisible gnawed at