Book 2 - Shadows Linger Read Online Free Page B

for this.” The men
began bringing prisoners inside, sifting them for characters who
might know something useful. “Ought to leave this stuff to
the kids.”
    “They couldn’t handle it.” He stared into
nothing, at long ago and far away.
    “Something wrong?”
    He shook his head, then contradicted himself. “What are we
doing, Croaker? Isn’t there any end to it?”
    I waited. He did not go on. He doesn’t talk much.
Especially not about his feelings. I nudged. “What do you
mean?”
    “Just goes on and on. Hunting Rebels. No end to the
supply. Even back when we worked for the Syndic in Beryl. We hunted
dissidents. And before Beryl . . . Thirty-six
years of same old same old. And me never sure I was doing right.
Especially now.”
    It was like Elmo to keep his reservations in abeyance eight
years before airing them. “We’re in no position to
change anything. The Lady won’t take kindly to us if we
suddenly say we’re only going to do thus and so, and none of
that.”
    The Lady’s service has not been bad. Though we get the
toughest missions, we never have to do the dirty stuff. The
regulars get those jobs. Preemptive strikes sometimes, sure. The
occasional massacre. But all in the line of business. Militarily
necessary. We’d never gotten involved in atrocities. The
Captain wouldn’t permit that.
    “It’s not the morality, Croaker. What’s moral
in war? Superior strength. No. I’m just tired.”
    “Not an adventure anymore, eh?”
    “Stopped being that a long time ago. Turned into a job.
Something I do because I don’t know anything else.”
    “Something you do very well.” That did not help, but
I couldn’t think of anything better to say.
    The Captain came in, a shambling bear who surveyed the wreckage
with a cold eye. He came over. “How many did we get,
Croaker?”
    “Count’s not in yet. Most of their command
structure, I’d guess.”
    He nodded. “You hurt?”
    “Worn out. Physically and emotionally. Been a while since
I was so scared.”
    He righted a table, dragged up a chair, produced a case of maps.
The Lieutenant joined him. Later, Candy brought Madle over.
Somehow, the innkeeper had survived. “Our friend has some
names for you, Croaker.” I spread my paper, scratched out
those Madle named. The company commanders began drafting prisoners
for grave-digging detail. Idly, I wondered if they realized they
were preparing their own resting places. No Rebel soldier is
paroled unless we can enlist him inescapably into the Lady’s
cause. Madle we enlisted. We gave him a story to explain his
survival and eliminated everyone who could deny it. Candy, in a fit
of generosity, had the bodies removed from his well.
    Silent returned, with Goblin and One-Eye, the two smaller
wizards bickering caustically. As usual. I do not recall the
argument. It didn’t matter. The struggle was all, and it was
all decades old.
    The Captain gave them a sour look, asked the Lieutenant,
“Heart or Tome?” Heart and Tome are the only
substantial towns in Tally. There is a king at Heart who is allied
with the Lady. She crowned him two years ago, after Whisper slew
his predecessor. He is not popular with the Tallylanders. My
opinion, never asked, is that she should dispose of him before he
does her further harm.
    Goblin laid a fire. The morning hours were nippy. He knelt
before it, toasting his fingers.
    One-Eye poked around behind Madle’s counter, found a beer
jar miraculously unscathed. He drained it in a single draft, wiped
his face, surveyed the room, winked at me. “Here we
go,” I murmured. The Captain glanced up.
“Eh?”
    “One-Eye and Goblin.”
    “Oh.” He went back to work and did not look up
again.
    A face formed in the flames before frog-faced little Goblin. He
did not see it. His eyes were closed. I looked at One-Eye. His eye
was sealed, too, and his face was all pruned, wrinkles atop
wrinkles, shadowed by the brim of his floppy hat. The face in the
fire took on detail.
    “Eh!” It