The Many Deaths of the Black Company (Chronicle of the Black Company) Read Online Free PDF Page B

ability to read minds. She could not, really, but never insisted that she could not. In this instance she found it convenient to let people believe what they wanted. She told Swan, “Being Bhodi, he will surrender himself. No search will be necessary.”
    “Hunh?”
    “There is a tree, sometimes called the Bhodi Tree, in the village of Semchi. It is a very old and highly honored tree. The Bhodi Enlightened One made his reputation loafing in the shade of this tree. The Bhodi consider it their most holy shrine. Tell them I will make kindling wood out of the Bhodi Tree unless the man who rigged that prayer wheel reports to me. Soon.” Soulcatcher employed the voice of a petty, vindictive old woman.
    Murgen made a mental note to send Sahra a suggestion that the guilty man be prevented from reaching the Protector. Destruction of a major holy place would create thousands of new enemies for Soulcatcher.
    Willow Swan started to speak but Soulcatcher interrupted.
    “I do not care if they hate me, Swan. I care that they do what I tell them to do when I tell them to do it. The Bhodi will not raise a fist against me, anyway. That would put a stain on their kharma.”
    A cynical woman, the Protector.
    “Get on with it, Swan.”
    Swan sighed. “Several more of those smoke shows appeared tonight. One was much bigger than any seen before. Once again the Black Company sigil was part of all of them.” He brought forward another Shadar witness, who told of being stoned by the mob but did not mention the demon Niassi.
    The news was no surprise. It was one of the reasons the Council had been convened. With no real passion, the Radisha demanded, “How could that happen? Why can’t you stop it? You have men on every street corner. Chandra?” She appealed to the man who knew just how much it cost to put all those Greys out there.
    Gokhale inclined his head imperially.
    As long as the Radisha did the questioning, Swan’s nerve stood up. She could not hurt him in ways he had not been hurt before. Not the way the Protector could. He asked, “Have you been out there? You should disguise yourself and go. Like Saragoz in the fairy tale. Every street is clogged with people. Thousands sleep where others have to walk over them. Breezeways and alleyways are choked with human waste. Sometimes the press is so thick you could murder somebody ten feet from one of my men and never be noticed. The people playing these games aren’t stupid. If they’re really Company survivors, they’re especially not stupid. They’ve already survived everything ever thrown at them. They’re using the crowds for cover exactly the way they’d use the rocks and trees and bushes out in the countryside. They don’t wear uniforms. They don’t stand out. They’re not outlanders anymore. If you really want to nail them, put out a proclamation saying they all have to wear funny red hats.” Swan’s nerve had peaked high. That was not directed at the Radisha. Soulcatcher, speaking through her, had issued several proclamations memorable for their absurdity. “Being steeped in Company doctrine, they wouldn’t be anywhere around when the smoke emblems actually formed. So far, we haven’t even figured out where they come from.”
    Soulcatcher unleashed a deep-throated grunt. It said she doubted that Swan could figure out much of anything. His nerve guttered like a dying lamp. He began to sweat. He knew he walked a tightrope with the madwoman. He was tolerated like a naughty pet for reasons clear only to the sorceress, who sometimes did things for no better reason than a momentary whim. Which could reverse itself an instant later.
    He could be replaced. Others had been. Soulcatcher did not care about facts, insurmountable obstacles or mere difficulties. She cared about results.
    Swan offered, “On the plus side there’s no evidence, even from our most eager informants, that suggests this activity is anything but a low-grade nuisance. Even if Black Company survivors are