Book 1 - Bleak Seasons Read Online Free PDF Page A

comedian.”
    “Oh, I’ll slay them.”
    Ky Dam said something. The swordmaster squinted at the night.
For half a heartbeat there was a ghostly flicker in the hills.
Star? Reflection of a star? No. The night was cool, wet and
overcast.
    The Speaker said, “There may be more happening than is
immediately apparent, Bone Warrior.”
    “Perhaps.” Bone Warrior? “But, unlike Nyueng
Bao, we are not warriors. We are soldiers.”
    The old man got his mind around that quickly. “As you
will, Stone Soldier. All may not be as it seems.” Was he
making these up as he went?
    He did not seem pleased by his speculation. He turned, hastened
down the stair. His grandsons had trouble keeping up.
    “What was that about?” Bucket asked.
    “I don’t have a clue. I’ve been summoned by
His Holiness, the Prince of the Company.” As I stepped to the
stair I glanced at One-Eye. The little wizard was staring toward
the hills, about where Ky Dam had done the same. He seemed both
puzzled and unhappy.
    I didn’t have time to ask. Nor did I have much
inclination.
    I had had bad news enough already.
     
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10
    Mogaba stands six feet five. Any fat on him has to be between
his ears because there isn’t an ounce anywhere else. All bone
and muscle, he moves like a cat, his slightest twitch pure liquid
grace. He works hard to stay hard but not to become overly muscled.
He is very dark but a deep mahogany more than an ebony. He glows
with conviction, an unshakable inner strength.
    He has a ready wit but never smiles. When he does show humor it
is entirely surface, for effect, an illusion spun for his audience.
He doesn’t feel it and probably doesn’t understand it.
He is as focused as any human being who ever lived. And that focus
is the creation and maintenance of Mogaba, greatest warrior who
ever lived.
    He is almost as good as he wants to be. He might be as good as
he thinks he is. I never saw anyone who could match his individual
skills.
    The other Nar are almost as good, almost as arrogantly
self-confident.
    Mogaba’s self-opinion is his big weakness but I
don’t think anyone could get him to believe that. He and his
reputation stand squarely at the center of his every
consideration.
    Sadly, self-indulgence and self-admiration aren’t always
traits that will inspire soldiers to win battles.
    There is no love lost between Mogaba and the rest of us. His
rigidity split the Company into Old Crew and Nar factions. Mogaba
envisions the Black Company as an ages old holy crusade. Us Old
Crew guys see it as a big unhappy family trying to survive in a
world that really is out to get us.
    The debate would be much more bitter were Shadowspinner not
around to snap up the mantle of bigger common enemy.
    Many of Mogaba’s own people are less than thrilled with
the way his mind is working these days.
    Something Croaker harped about, from the moment he first set
quill to paper, is what might be called matters of form. It is not
good form to bicker with your superiors, however wrong they may be
and however one-sided their determination of their superiority is.
I try to maintain good form.
    Croaker quickly elevated Mogaba to third in the Company, after
himself and Lady, because of his exceptional talents. But that did
not automatically entitle Mogaba to assume command if Croaker and
Lady were gone. New Captains are supposed to be elected. In a
situation like the one here in Dejagore the custom is to poll the
soldiers to see if they think an immediate election is necessary.
If they think the old Captain has become mad, senile, dead,
incompetent, or otherwise in need of permanent replacement then a
election will be held.
    I cannot recall any instance in the Annals when the senior
candidate was rejected by the soldiers, but if an election were
held today a precedent might be set. In a secret ballot even many
of the Nar might declare no confidence in Mogaba.
    There will be no vote while we are besieged. I will oppose any
effort to hold one. Mogaba