Glen Cook - Shadows Linger

“No Darling.”

“Anybody else around?”

“No.”

“Let’s go, then. Keep low, move fast, all that.”

We crossed the pier and scampered up the gangway. The sailor stirred. Goblin touched him and he went out like the dead. Goblin hustled forward, then aft, to the men on the rat guards. He returned nodding. “Another eight men below, all asleep. I’ll put them under. You go ahead.”

We started with the biggest cabin, assuming it would be the owner’s. It was. It sat in the stern, where the master’s cabin usually is, and was split into sections. I found things in one indicating that it had been occupied by Darling. On Raven’s side we found soiled clothing discarded some time ago. There was enough dust to indicate that no one had visited the cabin for weeks.

We did not find the papers I sought.

We did find money. Quite a substantial amount. It was cunningly hidden, but One-Eye’s sense for those things is infallible.

Out came a chest brimming with silver.

“I don’t reckon Raven is going to need that if he’s dead,” One-Eye said. “And if he ain’t-well, tough. His old buddies are in need.”

The coins were odd. After studying them, I recognized what that oddness was. They were the same as the coins Shed had received at the black castle. “Sniff these things,” I told One-Eye. “They’re black castle. See if there’s anything wrong with them.”

“Nope. Good as gold.” He chuckled.

“Uhm.” I hadn’t any scruples about lifting the money. Raven had obtained it by foul means. That put it up for grabs. It had no provenance, as they say in Juniper. “Gather round here. I got an idea.” I backed up to the stern lights, where I could watch the dock through the glass window.

They crowded in on me and the chest. “What?” Goblin

demanded.

“Why settle for the money? Why not take the whole damned ship? If Raven’s dead, or even faking he’s dead, what’s he going to say about it? We could make it our headquarters.”

Goblin liked the idea. So One-Eye didn’t. The more so because ships had to do with water. “What about the crew?” he asked. “What about the harbormaster and his people? They’d get the law down on us.”

“Maybe. But I think we can handle it. We move in and lock the crew up, there’s nobody to complain. Nobody complains, why should the harbormaster be interested?” “The whole crew ain’t aboard. Some’s out on the town.” “We grab them when they come back. Hell, man, what better way to be ready to move out in a hurry? And what better place to wait for Raven to turn up?”

One-Eye gave up objecting. He is essentially lazy. Too, there was a gleam in his eye which said he was thinking ahead of me. “Better talk to the Lieutenant,” he said. “He knows ships.”

Goblin knew One-Eye well. “Don’t look at me if you’re thinking about going pirate. I’ve had all the adventure I want. I want to go home.”

They got into it, and got loud about it, and had to be shut up.

“Let’s worry about getting through the next few days,” I growled. “What we do later we can worry about later. Look. We got clothes that belonged to Darling and Raven. Can you guys find them now?”

They put their heads together. After some discussion Goblin announced, “Silent thinks he can. Trouble is, he has to do it like a dog. Lock on the trail and follow around everywhere Raven went. Right up till he died. Or didn’t. If he didn’t, right on to where he is now.”

“But that... Hell. You’re spotting him a couple months lead.”

“People spend a lot of time not moving around, Croaker. Silent would skip over that.” “Still sounds slow.”

“Best you can get. Unless he comes to us. Which maybe he can’t.”

“All right. All right. What about the ship?” “Ask the Lieutenant. Let’s see if we can find your damned papers.”

There were no papers. One-Eye was able to detect nothing hidden anywhere. If I wanted to trace the papers, I’d have to start with the crew. Someone had to help Raven take them off.

We left the ship. Goblin and Pawnbroker found a good spot from which they could watch it. Silent and Otto took off on Raven’s trail. The rest of us went back and wakened the Lieutenant. He thought taking the ship was a good idea.

He’d never liked Raven much. I think he was motivated by more than practical considerations.

The rumors and incredible stories swept through Meadenvil rapidly. Shed heard about the ship from Juniper within hours of her arrival. He was stunned. The Black Company run out? Crushed by their masters? That made no sense. What the hell was going on up there?

His mother. Sal. His friends. What had become of them? If half the stories were true, Juniper was a desolation. The battle with the black castle had consumed the city.

He wanted desperately to go find somebody, ask about his people. He fought the urge. He had to forget his homeland. Knowing that Croaker and his bunch, the whole thing could be a trick to smoke him out.

For a day he remained in hiding, in his rented room, debating, till he convinced himself that he should do nothing. If the Company was on the run, it would be leaving again. Soon. Us former masters would be looking for it.

Would the Taken come after him, too? No. They had no quarrel with him. They did not care about his crimes. Only the Custodians wanted him... He wondered about Bullock, rotting in prison, accused of Raven’s murder. He did not understand that at all, but was too nervous to investigate. The answer was not significant in the equation of Marron Shed’s survival.

After his day in isolation he decided to resume his quest for a place of business. He was looking for a partnership in a tavern, having decided to stick with what he knew.

It had to be a better place. One that would not lead him into financial difficulties the way the Lily had. Each time he recalled the Lily, he suffered moments of homesickness and nostalgia, of bottomless loneliness. He had been a loner all his life, but never alone. This exile was filled with pain.

He was walking a narrow, shadowed street, slogging uphill through mud left by a nighttime rain, when something in the corner of his eye sent chills to the deeps of his soul. He stopped and whirled so swiftly he knocked another pedestrian down. As he helped the man rise, apologizing profusely, he glared into the shadows of an alley.

“Conscience playing tricks on me, I guess,” he murmured, after parting with his victim. But he knew better. He had seen it. Had heard his name called softly. He went to the mouth of the gap between buildings. But it had not waited for him.

A block later he laughed nervously, trying to convince himself it had been a trick of imagination after all. What the hell would the castle creatures be doing in Meadenvil? They’d been wiped out... But the Company guys who had fled here didn’t know that for sure, did they? They had run off before the fight was over. They just hoped their bosses had won, because the other side was even worse than theirs.

He was being silly. How could the creature have gotten here? No ship’s master would sell passage to a thing like that.

“Shed, you’re worrying yourself silly about nothing.” He entered a tavern called The Ruby Glass, operated by a man named Selkirk. Shed’s landlord had recommended both.

Their discussions were fruitful. Shed agreed to return the following afternoon.

Shed was sharing a beer with his prospective partner. His proposition seemed beneficial, for Selkirk had satisfied himself as to his character and now was trying to sell him on the Ruby Glass. “Night business will pick up once the scare is over.”