Free Shadow Games: The Fourth Chronicles of the Black Company: First Book of the South by Glen Cook Page A

figure again. I shuddered.
    “Croaker?” Lady asked. She was still mad at me but concerned even so.
    “Nothing. My eyes were playing tricks on me. I thought I saw the damned thing
     moving. Forget it.”
    They took me at my word, stomped off to whatever they had been doing. I watched
     them go and for another moment doubted my own senses.
    But then I looked again.
    The crows were flying off in a crowd, except for two headed straight toward me.
    And the stump was hiking off across the hillside as though intent on circling
     the monastery. I mumbled a little to myself but it did not do any good.
    I tried giving the Temple a few more days to work its magic but the next one
     hundred fifty years of our journey drummed on in my mind. There was no repose
     now. I was too itchy to sit. I announced my intention. And I got no kickbacks.
    Just acquiescent nods. Maybe even relieved nods.
    What was this?
    I sat up and came out of myself, where I had been spending a lot of time
     reexamining the familiar old furniture. I had not been paying attention to the
     others.
    They were restless, too.
    There was something in the air. Something that told us all it was time to hit
     the road. Even the monks seemed eager to see us move out. Curious.
    Them that stays alive in the soldiering business are them that listens to such
     feelings even when they make no sense. You feel like you got to move, you move.
    You stay put and get stomped, it is too late to whine about all that work for
     nothing.

Black Company S 4 - Shadow Games

Chapter Twelve: THE SHAGGY HILLS
    To reach One-Eye’s jungle we had to pass through several miles of woods, then
     climb over a range of decidedly odd hills. The hills were very round, very
     steep, and completely treeless, though not especially high. They were covered
     with a short brown grass that caught fire easily, so that many bore black scars.
    From a distance they looked like a herd of giant, tawny, humped beasts sleeping.
    I was in a state of high nerves. That sleeping-beast image haunted me. I kept
     half expecting those hills to waken and shrug us off. I caught up with One-Eye.
    “Is there something weird about these hills that you accidentally forgot to tell
     me about on purpose?”
    He gave me a funny look. “No. Though the ignorant believe them to be burial
     mounds from a time when giants walked the earth. But they aren’t. They’re just
     hills. All dirt and rock inside.”
    “Then why do they make me feel funny?”
    He glanced back the way we had come, puzzled. “It’s not the hills, Croaker. It’s
     something back there. I feel it, too. Like we just dodged an arrow.”
    I did not ask him what it was. He would have told me if he had known.
    As the day wore on I realized the others were as jumpy as I was.
    Worrying about it did as much good as worrying ever does.
    Next morning we ran into two wizened little men of One-Eye’s race. They both
     looked a hundred years old. One of them kept hacking and coughing like he was
     about to croak. Goblin cackled. “Must be old Lizard Lips’s illegitimate
     grandchildren.”
    There was a resemblance. I suppose that was to be expected. We were just
     accustomed to One-Eye being unique.
    One-Eye scowled at Goblin. “Keep it up, Barf Bag. You’ll be grocery shopping
     with the turtles.”
    What the hell did that mean? Some kind of obscure shop talk? But Goblin was as
     croggled as the rest of us.
    Grinning, One-Eye resumed gabbling with his relatives.
    Lady said, “I presume these are the guides the monks sent for?”
    They had done us that favor on learning our intentions. We would need guides. We
     were near the end of any road we could call familiar. Once past One-Eye’s jungle
     we would need somebody to translate for One-Eye, too.
    Goblin let out a sudden aggrieved squawk.
    “What’s your problem?” I demanded.
    “He’s feeding them a pack of lies!”
    So what was new about that? “How do you know? You don’t talk that lingo.”
    “I don’t