Soldiers Live by Glen Cook Read Free Book Online Page A

before it
     ran short of conspiracies.
    The crow hopped down onto Soulcatcher’s shoulder. She lifted gloved fingers to
     offer it some tidbit.
    “Did you have a response in mind? Something involving my colleagues?” Mogaba
     nodded toward the Singhs in turn. He suffered little jealousy of either man and
     did respect each for his abilities. Time and persistent adversity had ground the
     rough edges off of his once potent sense of self-appreciation.
    “These gentlemen were here already, regarding another matter, when the news from
     the Grove arrived.” She offered the crow another morsel.
    Mogaba’s eyes narrowed the tiniest fraction. He was not to be made privy to that
     matter?
    But he was. Soulcatcher used a cackling crone’s voice. “The Greys found several
     slogans painted on walls today.” The crow cawed. Elsewhere, other crows began
     squabbling.
    “Not uncommon,” Mogaba replied. “Every idiot with a brush, a pot of paint and
     enough education to string five characters together seems to be compelled to say
     something if he discovers a blank piece of wall.”
    “These were slogans from the past.” This was the voice the Protector used when
     she was focused entirely on business. It was a male voice. A voice like Mogaba
     imagined his own to be. “Three said ‘Rajadharma.’ ”
    “I’ve heard the Bhodi cult is making a comeback, too.”
    Ghopal Singh added, “Two said ‘Water Sleeps.’ That’s not Bhodi. And they weren’t
     stray graffiti left over from four years ago.”
    A thrill, half fear, half excitement, coursed through Mogaba. He stared at the
     Protector. She said, “I want to know who’s doing it. I want to know why they’ve
     decided to do it right now.”
    Mogaba thought both Singhs looked cautiously pleased, as though glad to have
     potential real enemies to chase instead of just irritating people who would
     otherwise remain indifferent to the Palace.
    The Grove of Doom was outside the city. Everything outside was Mogaba’s
     province. He asked, “Was there some particular action you wished me to take in
     regard to the Deceivers?”
    Soulcatcher smiled. When she did that, just that way, every minute of her many
     centuries shone through. “Nothing. Not a thing. They’re scattering already. I’ll
     let you know when. It’ll be when they’re not ready.” This voice was cold but was
     filled with her evil smile. Mogaba wondered if the Singhs knew how seldom anyone
     saw the Protector without her mask. It meant that she meant to involve them in
     her schemes too deeply for them to escape the association.
    Mogaba nodded like a dutiful servant. It was all a game to the Protector. Or
     possibly several games. Maybe making a game of it was how you survived
     spiritually in a world where everyone else was ephemeral.
    Soulcatcher said, “I want you to help catch rats. There’s a shortage of carrion.
    My babies are going hungry.” She offered her black-winged spy another treat.
    This one suspiciously resembled a human eyeball.

Black Company GS 9 - Soldiers Live
    9
    An Abode of Ravens:
    The Invalid
     Am I still alive?” I did not need to ask. I was. Pain was a dead giveaway. Every
     square inch of me hurt.
    “Don’t move.” That was Tobo. “Or you’ll wish you hadn’t.”
    I already wished I did not have to breathe. “Burns?”
    “Lots of burns. Lots of banging around, too.”
    Murgen’s voice said, “You look like they whipped your ass with a forty-pound
     ugly stick, then slow-roasted what was left over an open pit.”
    “I thought you were at Khang Phi.”
    “We came home.”
    Tobo said, “We kept you unconscious for four days.”
    “How is Lady?”
    Murgen told me, “She’s in the other bed. In a lot better shape than you.”
    “She ought to be. I didn’t shoot her. The cat get her tongue?”
    “She’s asleep.”
    “What about One-Eye?”
    Tobo’s response was barely audible. “One-Eye didn’t make it, Croaker.”
    After a while, Murgen asked,