Bleak Seasons

77

Uncle Doj and Thai Dei were back from wherever they had gone. They scowled at Sahra and me when we returned but neither said a word. Hong Tray still had her hold on the Kys. Thai Dei took his son. The little guy brightened immediately.

Uncle Doj told me, “My people are not mushrooms, Standardbearer. They cannot endure this much longer. You Stone Soldiers have been generous to a fault and have given no provocation but even so there will be trouble eventually. A wounded animal will strike out at even the most loving master.”

“We’ll be out of here sooner than I planned.” I was not in a good mood. I wanted to drag Lady across my lap and paddle her. “I’ve already given orders to start the process.”

“You sound angry.”

“I am angry.” Lady used me in a political game with Mogaba with never a thought for the Company’s welfare. She was no more real Company than he was.

Longo leaned in the doorway. “You get the word about the catacombs flooding, Murgen?”

“Bucket told me. How soon is it going to be a problem?” “Four or five days. Maybe more. Unless the leak gets a lot worse.”

“We’ll be gone. Your brothers and One-Eye are up in the big lookout. Go find out what’s up.”

Longo shrugged and went, grumbling about the climb.

I asked, “Who speaks for the Nyueng Bao now?”

“We have not yet chosen,” Uncle Doj replied.

“Could you? Quickly? A Taglian general name of Lanore Bonharj-the guy who’s in charge of the freed slaves and friendly Taglians and Jaicuri right now-is going to come by. We’ll need somebody Nyueng Bao to join us in planning our evacuation.” He started to say something. I rolled on. “It seems that the Shadowmaster isn’t a problem anymore, only nobody bothered to tell us. Our own so-called friends have been jobbing us for political reasons. We could leave any time I don’t know for how long now.”

I put all the blame for our ignorance on Goblin and One-Eye. You can blame a wizard for anything and people will believe you.

Sahra tried to make a meal from what we had. I touched her hand as she passed. She smiled. I told her, “This should be the last time we’ll need to do this.”

I hoped.

I was wrong.

Everything takes time.

Lanore Bonharj followed me down into the warrens. He was both amazed and appalled. He was high-caste Gunni. It was bad up top but this squalor down below was beyond his imagination. We talked. Uncle Doj spoke for the Nyueng Bao. Bargains were struck, agreements agreed, plans quickly laid. Preparations began in earnest.