30
Murgen was there when Soulcatcher received the news. The report reached the Palace in a remarkably short time and was unusually complete. The Greys worked hard to please their mistress.
The party bringing Gokhale to the warehouse had not yet arrived.
Murgen had been asked to look around the Protector’s quarters while he was there. We knew nothing about them. Nobody ever went into her suite. Not since Willow Swan had gone to his reward.
Murgen would have to be questioned about how she lived in private.
Soulcatcher did not retreat there, however. She went out looking for the Radisha right away.
The Radisha knew something had happened to Gokhale but she had not had detailed reports. The women settled in the receiving chamber of the Radisha’s austere suite. Soulcatcher told what she knew. She used a very businesslike voice. It was said sometimes that the Protector was her most dangerous and least stable when she stopped being capricious and seemed calmest and most serious.
“It seems the Inspector-General shared some habits with Perhule Khoji. In fact, I’m now assured that his particular weakness was common amongst the senior men of his ministry.”
“There were rumors.”
“And you did nothing?”
“Chandra Gokhale’s private amusements, loathsome as I found them personally, did not prevent his performing perfectly as Inspector-General of the Records. He was particularly adept at generating revenue.”
“Indeed.” Soulcatcher’s businesslike manner wavered momentarily. Murgen would report his amusement at the thought she might actually have a moral opinion. “He was attacked in the same manner as Khoji was.”
“Suggesting somebody might have a grudge against the ministry as a whole? Or that the Deceivers pick men of his particular weakness as ceremonial targets?”
“Deceivers didn’t kill Gokhale. Of that I’m sure. This was done by the people who lured Swan out and killed him. If they killed him.”
“If?” The Radisha was startled by the implication.
“We saw no corpse. Note that we have no body this time, either. Men disguised as our men were right there to haul the body away. That’s two members of the Privy Council lost in less than a week. Organizationally, they were the most important. They made the machinery work. If the Great General was anywhere nearby, I’d predict that he would be their next target. That gaggle of priests means nothing. They do nothing. They control nothing. My sister proved that if they’re killed, they can be replaced by other do-nothings within minutes. Nobody can replace Swan or Gokhale. The Greys are beginning to unravel already.”
Murgen made a mental note to mention that Willow Swan might have been less a puppet than he led the world to believe.
“Why couldn’t it be the Stranglers?” the Radisha asked.
“Because those people cut the head off that particular serpent the other day.” She described events in the Thieves’ Garden. Obviously, she had not bothered to share the news before. It was clear that the Protector considered the Princess a necessary but junior partner in her enterprise. “In a matter of days these people, whom we thought ruined forever, have cut the head off one enemy and have crippled the other seriously. There is a dangerous mind behind this.”
Not dangerous at all. Not even that lucky. But a sufficiently paranoid mind will discern patterns and threats where only fortune has conspired. Soulcatcher was ever alert for evils as great as her own.
“We knew they couldn’t remain in the darkness forever,” the Radisha said. She corrected herself hastily, “I knew. The Captain reminded me often enough.” She did not need to bring up the past and her belief in mistakes she had made. That devil was buried deep, hundreds of miles away. A much more immediate danger was right there in the room with her.
The Protector was a mistake she had abandoned hope of living long enough to correct. Blind to the consequences at the time, she had chosen to mount the tiger. Now her sole choice was to hang on for the rest of the ride.
Soulcatcher said, “We have to recall the Great General. If we can get his troops into the city before our enemies make their next move, we’ll have the manpower to hunt them down. You should send the orders immediately. And once the courier is safely off, we should announce that the Great General is returning. Their special dislike for Mogaba should cause them to delay their other plans till they can gather him in as well.”
“You think you know what they’ll do?”
“I know what I’d do if I came down with the kind of sudden, burning ambition that seems to have taken them over. I wonder if there hasn’t been some kind of coup or something?”
Exasperated, the Radisha demanded, “What will they do next?”
“I’ll keep that to myself for now. Not that I don’t trust you.” Soulcatcher probably had abiding suspicions about herself. “I just want to make sure I’ve identified enough of a pattern to begin tapping into the workings of this new mind. I’m quite talented at that, you know.”
The Radisha knew, to her own despair. She said nothing. Soulcatcher sat silently herself, as though waiting for the Princess to speak. But the Radisha had nothing to say.
The Protector mused, “I wonder who it could be? I knew the wizards of old. Neither one has the ambition or imagination or drive, even though both do have the hardness.”
The Radisha made a squeak of sound. “The wizards?”
“The two little men. The day-and-night pair. They aren’t much of anything but lucky.”
“They survived?”
“I said they’re lucky. Do you recall anyone who didn’t go onto the plain who looked like a potential leader? I don’t.”
“I thought all those people were dead.”
“As did I, in most cases. Our Great General claims to have seen most of their bodies personally. But the Great General identified them assuming that the two wizards had been killed first. Hmm. Here I had begun to be suspicious of him. Perhaps his only crime is that he’s a fool. Can you think of anyone?”
“Not inside the Company I knew. But there was a Nyueng Bao who had something to do with the Standardbearer’s wife. A priest of some sort. He seemed to be totally obsessed with weapons and the martial arts. I ran into him only a few times. And he’s never been accounted for in any reports.”
“A Master of the Path of the Sword? That would explain a lot. But I killed them all when I—Have you noticed how people keep turning up alive when there’s every reason to believe that they’re dead?”
An actual smile tried to gnaw its way out of the Radisha’s mouth. The woman talking could be considered the mother of all those whose deaths had been celebrated prematurely. “There’s sorcery afoot. Nothing should be any great surprise.”
“You’re right. You’re absolutely right. And that’s a blade that can have more than one edge.” Soulcatcher rose to leave. Her voice changed, became cruel. “More than one edge. A Master of the Path of the Sword. It’s been a long time since I visited those people. They may be able to tell me something useful.” She stalked out of the room.
The Radisha remained motionless for several minutes, clearly troubled. Then she got up and went to her Anger Chamber. She settled herself there. The unseen spy went after the Protector. She, he discovered, had gone directly to the ramparts. She assembled her small, single-rider carpet, all the while arguing with herself in a dozen querulous voices.
He barely listened. He was too surprised and shocked. There was a white crow up there. It was watching the Protector, who remained unaware of Murgen’s presence although, historically, she had been more sensitive to him than to any of the living except her sister. But the bird had no trouble seeing Murgen. It examined him with first one eye, then with the other. Then it winked deliberately. And then it launched itself into the night when the Protector’s rookery took flight to accompany her on her travels.
But I am the white crow!
The disorientation was brief but as frightening as it had been years ago, when first Murgen had started stumbling around outside his flesh.