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to have the power to do it. I want to be the boss. No interference from
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anybody. No political crap. No cult feuding. Even the will of the Prince will
have to yield for the duration. I don't know if there's a Taglian word for
what I want. I can't think of a Roseau word, either. In the Jewel Cities the
man in the job I want is called 'dictator.' They elect him for a year at a
time. Tell him that."
Was the Prahbrindrah happy? Sure he was. About as happy as any prince in that
fix. He started lawyering, trying to bury me in ifs, ands, and buts. I smiled
a lot.
"I said I wouldn't negotiate, Swan. I meant it. The only chance I see is for
us to do what needs doing when it's got to be done, not six weeks later, after
the ruffled feathers have been smoothed, the special interests have had their
say, and the graft has been got out."
Mogaba had on the biggest smile I'd ever seen from him. He was having fun
listening. Maybe he'd always wanted to talk that way to his bosses in Gea-Xle.
I said, "The way I hear it, in about five weeks the rivers will be down enough
that the Shadowmasters can put their troops across the Main. They won't have
internal problems slowing them down. They'll have every advantage but the
Black Company on their side. So if the Prahbrindrah wants even a prayer of
winning, he has to give me the tools I need. If he doesn't, I walk. I find
some other way. I won't commit suicide."
Swan translated. We sat around looking tough and professional and stubborn.
Lady and Mogaba did fine. I thought I might blow it by being nervous, but I
did not. The Prahbrindrah never tried to call my bluff. He argued, but never
so hard I might lose my temper and stomp out. I never gave an inch. I honestly
believed that the only chance, and that a ghost of a hope, lay in an absolute
military dictatorship. And I had a little inside word, thanks to Frogface.
"Hey, Swan. Are these people in even bigger trouble than they've admitted?"
"What?" He cast a nervous glance at the imp.
"Your boss isn't trying to talk me out of anything. He's lawyering.
Politicking. Wasting time. I get the feeling that down deep he's scared to
death. He agrees with me.
Only he don't want to have to make the choice between evils. Because then he
has to live with his choice."
"Yeah. Maybe. The Shadowmasters are going to be coming mean after what we did
last summer. Going to make an example of us, maybe."
"I'll want the veterans of that business. We'll turn them into squad leaders.
Assuming I get to be boss soldier around here."
"There is an archaic Taglian word meaning warlord. You'll get your way. It's
been argued out in council. The High Priests don't like it, but they don't
have any choice. Priests were the first people the Shadowmasters rubbed out
wherever they took over. He can make any deal he has to. They're scared, man.
After you win is when you got to start worrying."
All I had to do was go on sitting tight. But I had come into the meeting with
that assurance from Frogface.
The damned imp grinned and winked at me.
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The day rolled on into night and we had to have another meal, but we sealed
our pact.
For the first time since Juniper the Company had a real commission.
Or vice versa.
The Prahbrindrah wanted to know my plans. He was not dumb. He knew Mogaba had
been putting in twenty-hour days.
"Put together a big flashy show for the gang that comes across the Main,
mostly. But we'll recruit and train for harder times down the line too,
assuming we handle that first bunch. While we're at it, we'll get an idea of
what resources are available and how best to employ them. We'll root out enemy
agents here and try to establish our own over there. We'll learn the terrain
where the fighting may take place. Swan. I keep hearing about how little time
we have till the rivers go down. How long will they stay down? How long till
the next grace period?"
He translated, then said, "There'll be six to seven months when there won't be
enough rain to close the fords. Even after the rainy season starts there'll be
two or three months when they're passable part of the time."
"Wonderful. We got here in the middle of the safe season."
"Just about. We could get more than five weeks. That's a worst estimate."
"We can count on it, then. Tell him we'll need a lot of help from the state.
We have to have weapons, armor, mounts, rations, drays, drayage, equipment. We
need a census of all males between sixteen and forty-five, with their skills
and occupations. I want to know who to conscript if I don't get volunteers. A
census of animals would be helpful. Likewise, a census of weapons and
equipment available. And a census of fortifications and places that could be
used as fortresses. You should know a lot of this from last summer. Do you
write the lingo here, Swan?"
He translated, then said, "No. I can't figure out the alphabet. 'Course, I
never learned to read or write Rosean, neither." He grinned. "Not Cordy,
neither."
"Blade?"
"You kidding?"
"Wonderful. Find me somebody who can. It's all right if he's one of the
Radisha's spies. Two birds with one stone. I'll want you and him both attached
to me at the hip till I learn the language. All right. What I need right now
is for him to get out the word that volunteers should assemble in the Chandri
Square an hour after dawn tomorrow." The Chandri Square was near our barracks
and one of the biggest in Taglios. "They should bring any weapons or equipment
they have. We'll pick twenty-five hundred to start training immediately and
enroll the rest for later."
"You may be too optimistic."
"I thought these people were eager to get into it."
"They are. But tomorrow is a holy day for the Gunni cults. That takes in
four-tenths of the lower classes. When they sit down nobody else can do
anything, either."
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"There aren't any holidays in a war. They better get used to that right now.
They don't show up, that's tough. They get left behind. Tell the Prince to
spread the word that the guys who volunteer earliest are the guys who're going
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