Bleak Seasons Read Online Free PDF Page B

executions had
     been advanced.
    I considered suggesting prayer but it was obvious Mogaba was not in the mood.
    “Afraid not.”
    “There is nothing in your books?”
    He meant the Annals. Croaker tried hard to get him to study them. Croaker was
     big on looking for, and deferring to, precedent mainly because he lacked much
     confidence in his mastery of strategy and leadership. On the other hand, Mogaba
     lacked no confidence whatsoever. He always had an excuse not to study Company
     history. Only recently had it occurred to me that he might not read or write.
    Those are skills considered unmanly in some places. Maybe that was true among
     the Nar of Gea-Xle, despite the fact that keeping the Annals was a holy duty of
     our Black Company forebrethren.
    The Nar say very little about their beliefs. The rest of us are aware that they
     consider us heretics, though.
    “Very little. The time-honored tactic is to attract the wizard’s attention to a
     secondary target where he will do less damage than he wants. You hold his
     attention there till he gets tired or until you sneak up and cut his throat.
    Sneakups aren’t practical here. This time Spinner will protect himself better.
    He might not even come out of his camp if we don’t make him.”
    Mogaba nodded, unsurprised. “Sindawe?”
    Sindawe is Mogaba’s oldest and closest friend. They go back to early childhood.
    Sindawe is now Mogaba’s second in command and leader of the Taglian First
     Legion, which is the best of the Taglian formations. And the oldest. Croaker put
     Mogaba in charge of training when first we arrived in Taglios and the First is
     the juggernaut Mogaba built.
    Sindawe can pass as Mogaba’s brother. Sometimes he acts like Mogaba’s
     conscience. Mogaba values his good opinion possibly more than he should.
    Sindawe said, “We could try to outrun them . . . Whoa, Ga! I’m joking.”
    Mogaba didn’t get it. Or if he did he failed to see the humor.
    I offered, “Use artillery to distract him, wherever he is. And if we do catch
     him in range we can hope we get lucky.”
    We did that during the big battle that ended with us trapped. And it worked. We
     even got lucky, some, which was why we were alive to be in deep shit now. But we
     did not come near eliminating Shadowspinner.
    “We will include motion in everything,” Mogaba decided. “Our artillerymen will
     shoot and run. Wherever the Shadowmaster attacks directly we will fade away
     instantly. We will cover with enfilading fire till his attention is drawn
     elsewhere. We will not look him in the eye.”
    Mogaba looked me in the eye. He wanted help from Goblin and One-Eye but his
     pride would not let him ask. He is on record as saying he cannot abide sorcery,
    that sorcery has no place in the Black Company. It is wicked, dishonorable, the
     alternative of rogues. The man just cannot lay off the flattery. He spreads that
     stuff all over those two clowns every time he sees them, too. He has made them
     some big offers intended to get them to retire from “his” Company.
    Help? Ain’t it funny how flexible you get when absolute destruction looks you
     right in the eye?
    Sort of flexible. Mogaba never addressed the matter directly.
    I did not twist his tail. I never do. And I hope that drives him crazy. I said,
    “We will all exercise all our talents to their limit. If we don’t get through
     this, our differences don’t mean shit.”
    Mogaba winced. Among the many things a Nar warrior does not do is employ
     colorful language. Whatever language he uses.
    Good thing we were using the Beryl dialect. Our discussion had gone on long
     enough that the Taglian officers were beginning to doubt Sindawe’s bland
     translations. We tried to show the outside world a single face. It was
     especially important to deceive our employers. In the tradition of these things
     they are, likely, already figuring out how to screw us as soon as we save their
     royal butts.
    Counting sworn brothers taken in