Book 2 - Dreams of Steel by Glen Cook Read Free Book Online Page B

possess and use to bring on the Year of the Skulls. If that avatar can free enough souls and cause enough pain, Kina can be wakened."

    Swan chuckled like an old woman scolding. "You believe any of that stuff?"

    "What I believe doesn't matter, Swan. The Deceivers believe. If the rumor spreads that Kina has been seen, and there's any evidence to support it, they'll preach a crusade of murder and torture. Wait!" She raised a hand. "The Taglian people are ripe for an outburst of violence. By damming the normal discharge for generations they've created a reservoir of potential violence. The Deceivers would like that to explode, to bring on the Year of the Skulls. My brother and I would prefer to harness and direct that ferocity."

    Blade grumbled about the absurdities of the theological imagination and why didn't people have sense enough to smother would-be priests in their cradles ?

    The Radisha said, "We don't think the Deceivers have a formal, hierarchical priesthood. They seem to form loose bands, or companies, under an elected captain. The captain appoints a priest, an omen reader, and so forth. His authority is limited. He has little influence outside his band unless he's done something to gain a reputation."

    Blade said, "They don't sound so bad to me."

    The Radisha scowled. "The main qualification of a priest seems to be education and probity toward his own kind. The bands indulge in crimes of all sorts. Once a year they share out their spoils according to the priest's estimation of the members' contributions toward the glory of Kina. To support his decisions, in the event of dispute, the priest keeps a detailed chronicle of the band's activities."

    "Fine and dandy," Swan said. "But how about we get to what you want us to do? We supposed to drag Smoke around to see if we can sniff out what really happened to the Shadowmasters' soldiers?"

    "Yes."

    "Why bother?"

    "I thought I just explained..." The Radisha controlled herself. "If that was a true apparition of Kina we have bigger troubles than we thought. The Shadowmasters may be the lesser half."

    "I warned you!" Smoke squealed. "I warned you a hundred times. But you wouldn't listen. You had to bargain with devils."

    "Shut up." The Radisha glared. "I'm as tired of

    you as Swan is. Go find out what happened. And learn what you can about the woman Lady, too."

    "I can handle that," Swan said, grinning. "Come on, old buddy." He grabbed Smoke's shoulder. He asked the Radisha, "Think you can manage Jahamaraj Jah without us?"

    "I can manage him."

    Mounted, ready to ride, waiting for Blade and Smoke, Swan asked, "Cordy, you get the feeling you're out in the woods in the middle of the night and everybody's doing their damnedest to hide the light?"

    "Uhm." Mather was more the thinker than Willow or Blade. "They're afraid if we know the whole story we'll desert. They're desperate. They've lost the Black Company. We're all that's left."

    "Like the old days."

    "Uhm."

    The old days. Before the coming of the professionals. When their adopted homeland had made them reluctant captains because the feuding cults couldn't tolerate taking orders from native nonbelievers. A year in the field, playing blind lead the blind, overcoming political shenanigans daily, had convinced Swan that Blade had a point, that it wouldn't hurt the world a bit if you rid it of a few hundred thousand selected priests.

    "You buy that Kina stuff?"

    "I don't think she told any lies. She just forgot to tell the whole truth."

    "Maybe when we get Smoke out there forty miles from nowhere we can squeeze it out of him."

    "Maybe. As long as we don't forget what he is. We scare him too much and he's liable to show us what kind of wizard he is. Button it. They're coming."

    Smoke looked like he was headed for the gallows. Blade looked as unhappy as ever. But Swan knew he was pleased. Blade figured he was going to get a chance to kick some deserving asses.

Chapter Eleven

    The wounded man thought he was