Free Book 3 - The White Rose by Glen Cook Page B

been a monk. Now
they’re discarding me for some
young . . . ” He began making strange
noises.
    Sobs? Bomanz thought. From the Monitor? From this man with a
heart of flint and all the mercy of a shark? He took Besand’s
elbow. “Let’s go look at the comet. I haven’t
seen it yet.”
    Besand got hold of himself. “You haven’t?
That’s hard to believe.”
    “Why? I haven’t been up late. Stancil has done the
night work.”
    “Never mind. Slipping into my antagonistic character
again. We should’ve been lawyers, you and I. We’ve got
the argumentative turn of mind.”
    “You could be right. Spent a lot of time lately wondering
what I’m doing out here.”
    “What are you doing here, Bo?”
    “I was going to get rich. I was going to study the old
books, open a few rich graves, go back to Oar and buy into my
uncle’s drayage business.” Idly, Bomanz wondered how
much of his faked past Besand accepted. He had lived it so long
that he now remembered some fraudulent anecdotes as factual unless
he thought hard.
    “What happened?”
    “Laziness. Plain old-fashioned laziness. I found out
there’s a big difference between dreaming and getting in
there and doing. It was easier to dig just enough to get by and
spend the rest of the time loafing.” Bomanz made a sour face.
He was striking near the truth. His researches were, in fact,
partly an excuse for not competing. He simply did not have the
drive of a Tokar.
    “You haven’t had too bad a life. One or two hard
winters when Stancil was a pup. But we all went through those. A
helping hand here or there and we all survived. There she
is.” Besand indicated the sky over the Barrowland.
    Bomanz gasped. It was exactly what he had seen in his dreams.
“Showy, isn’t it?”
    “Wait till it gets close. It’ll fill half the
sky.”
    “Pretty, too.”
    “Stunning, I’d say. But also a harbinger. An ill
omen. The old writers say it’ll keep returning till the
Dominator is freed.”
    “I’ve lived with that stuff most of my life, Besand,
and even I find it hard to believe there’s anything to it.
Wait! I get that spooky feeling around the Barrowland, too. But I
just can’t believe those creatures could rise again after
four hundred years in the ground.”
    “Bo, maybe you are honest. If you are, take a hint. When I
leave, you leave. Take the TelleKurre stuff and head for
Oar.”
    “You’re starting to sound like Stance.”
    “I mean it. Some idiot unbeliever kid takes over here, all
Hell is going to break loose. Literally. Get out while you
can.”
    “You could be right. I’m thinking about going back.
But what would I do? I don’t know Oar anymore. The way Stance
tells it, I’d get lost. Hell, this is home now. I never
really realized that. This dump is home.”
    “I know what you mean.”
    Bomanz looked at that great silver blade in the sky. Soon
now . . . 
    “What’s going on out there? Who is that?” came
from Bomanz’s back door. “You clear off, hear?
I’ll have the Guard after you.”
    “It’s me, Jasmine.”
    Besand laughed. “And the Monitor, mistress. The Guard is
here already.”
    “Bo, what’re you doing?”
    “Talking. Looking at the stars.”
    “I’ll be getting along,” Besand said.
“See you tomorrow.”
    From his tone Bomanz knew tomorrow would be a day of normal
harassments.
    “Take care.” He settled on the dewy back step, let
the cool night wash over him. Birds called in the Old Forest, their
voices lonely. A cricket chirruped optimistically. Humid air barely
stirred the remnants of his hair. Jasmine came out and sat beside
him. “Couldn’t sleep,” he told her.
    “Me either.”
    “Must be going around.” He glanced at the comet, was
startled by an instant of deja vu. “Remember the summer we
came here? When we stayed up to see the comet? It was a night like
this.”
    She took his hand, entwined her fingers with his.
“You’re reading my mind. Our first month anniversary.
Those were fool kids,