Free Book 1 - The Black Company by Glen Cook Page A

embarrass the
Rebel and the Limper both."
    Elmo muttered, "He wants flashy, why don't he have us round up
the Circle of Eighteen?" The Circle is the Rebel High Command,
eighteen wizards who think that between them they have what it
takes to challenge the Lady and the Taken. Raker, the Limper's
nemesis in Forsberg, belonged to the Circle.
    The Captain looked thoughtful. He asked Raven, "You get the
feeling there's politics involved?"
    "The Company is Soulcatcher's tool. That's common knowledge. The
puzzle is what he plans to do with it."
    "I got that feeling in Opal."
    Politics. The Lady's empire purports to be monolithic. The Ten
Who Were Taken expend terrible energies keeping it that way. And
spend as much more squabbling among themselves like toddlers
fighting over toys, or competing for Mother's affection.
    "Is that it?" the Captain grumbled.
    "That's it. He says he'll keep in touch."
     
     
    So we went and did it. We captured the fortress at Deal, in the
dead of night, within howling distance of Oar. They say both Raker
and the Limper flew into insane rages. I figure Soulcatcher ate
that up.
     
     
    One-Eye flipped a card into the discard pile. He muttered,
"Somebody's sandbagging."
    Goblin snapped the card up, spread four knaves and discarded a
queen. He grinned. You knew he was going down next time, holding
nothing heavier than a deuce. One-Eye smacked the tabletop, hissed.
He hadn't won a hand since sitting down.
    "Go low, guys," Elmo warned, ignoring Goblin's discard. He drew,
scrunched his cards around just inches from his face, spread three
fours and discarded a deuce. He tapped his remaining pair, grinned
at Goblin, said, "That better be an ace, Chubby."
    Pickles snagged Elmo's deuce, spread four of a kind, discarded a
trey. He plied Goblin with an owl-like stare that dared him to go
down. It said an ace would not keep him from getting burned.
    I wished Raven were there. His presence made One-Eye too nervous
to cheat. But Raven was on turnip patrol, which is what we called
the weekly mission to Oar to purchase supplies. Pickles had his
chair.
    Pickles is Company quartermaster. He usually went on turnip
patrol. He begged off this one because of stomach troubles.
    "Looks like everybody was sandbagging," I said, and glared at a
hopeless hand. Pair of sevens, pair of eights, and a nine to go
with one of the eights, but no run. Almost everything I could use
was in the discard pile. I drew. Sumbitch. Another nine, and it
gave me a run. I spread it, dumped the off seven, and prayed.
Prayer was all that could help.
    One-Eye ignored my seven. He drew. "Damn!" He dumped a six on
the bottom of my straight and discarded a six. "The moment of
truth, Porkchop," he told Goblin. "You going to try Pickles?" And,
"These Forsbergers are crazy. I've never seen anything like
them."
    We had been in the fortress a month. It was a little big for us,
but I liked it. "I could get to like them," I said. "If they could
just learn to like me." We had beaten off four counterattacks
already. "Shit or get off the pot, Goblin. You know you got me
and Elmo licked."
    Pickles ticked the corner of his card with his thumbnail, stared
at Goblin. He said, "They've got a whole Rebel mythos up here.
Prophets and false prophets. Prophetic dreams. Sendings from the
gods. Even a prophecy that a child somewhere around here is a
reincarnation of the White Rose."
    "If the kid's already here, how come he's not pounding on us?"
Elmo asked.
    "They haven't found him yet. Or her. They have a whole tribe of
people out looking."
    Goblin chickened. He drew, sputtered, discarded a king. Elmo
drew and discarded another king. Pickles looked at Goblin. He
smiled a small smile, took a card, did not bother looking at it. He
tossed a five onto the six One-Eye had dumped on my run and flipped
his draw into the discard pile.
    "A five?" Goblin squeaked. "You were holding a five? I don't
believe it. He had a five." He slapped his ace onto the tabletop.
"He had a damned