Swords & Dark Magic - By Jonathan Strahan Page 0,16

graves? Not enough, sir, not by a long shot.”

Wither added more as she rode past, “Try about ninety-five more.”

Huggs snorted. “And a big one, too, and I mean big. Oh, and a tiny one, too.”

Dullbreath halted opposite Graves and looked down at him with jaded eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Graves, we kill those fuckers for a living.”

He rode on. They all did.

Graves looked down at the flowers in his hand.

People do what they do, he reminded himself. To get by. Just that, to get by.

“Two days to Piety,” said Flapp as they rode along the track on the slow climb to the distant valley mouth.

“And then—”

“Captain,” called out Dullbreath from the rear.

They all reined in and turned.

Slim was riding a mule after them, the old whore rocking back and forth like she’d never learned how to ride, and that struck Flapp as damned funny. But he didn’t laugh.

“We got us a camp follower,” said Wither. “I don’t believe it.”

Flapp opened his mouth and was about to say something, and then he stopped—he’d caught a glint of metal—from way up the trail they’d come down yesterday. “Captain! I saw a flash of steel! Halfway up to the pass!”

Everyone stiffened. Stared, breaths held.

“There! You seen it?”

And the look Skint turned on him was twisted into a mask of unholy terror. “He’s still after us! Ride, soldiers! To save your lives, ride!”

* * *

GLEN COOK grew up in northern California and served in the U.S. Navy with the Third Marine Recon Battalion, an experience that fundamentally affected his later work. Cook then attended the University of Missouri and the Clarion Writers’ Workshop. His first novel , The Heirs of Babylon, appeared in 1972 and was followed by a broad range of fantasy and science fiction novels, including the humorous fantasy Garrett PI series and others. His most important work, though, is the gritty Black Company fantasy series, which follows a mercenary unit over several decades and which brought a whole new perspective to fantasy. Cook is currently retired and lives in St. Louis, Missouri, where he writes full-time.

* * *

TIDES ELBA

A Tale of the Black Company

Glen Cook

We were playing tonk. One-Eye was in a foul mood because he was losing. Situation normal, except nobody was trying to kill us.

Elmo dealt. One-Eye squeaked. I peeked at my cards. “Another hand so damned bad it don’t qualify as a foot.”

Otto said, “You’re full of shit, Croaker. You won six out of the last ten hands.”

Elmo said, “And bitched about the deal every time.”

“I was right every time I dealt.” I was right this time, too. I did not have a pair. I had no low cards and only one face card. The two in the same suit were the seven and knave of diamonds. I do not have years enough left to fill that straight. Anyway, we all knew One-Eye had one of his rare good hands.

“Then we need to make you full-time dealer.”

I pushed my ante in. I drew, discarded, and tossed my cards in when it came to me.

One-Eye went down with ten. The biggest card he had was a three. His leathery old black face ripped in a grin lacking an adequate population of teeth. He raked the pot in.

Elmo asked the air, “Was that legitimate?” We had a gallery of half a dozen. We had the Dark Horse to ourselves today. It was the Company watering hole in Aloe. The owner, Markeb Zhorab, had mixed feelings. We were not the kind of guys he wanted hanging around but because we did, his business was out standing.

Nobody indicted One-Eye. Goblin, with his butt on the table next over, reminded Elmo, “You dealt.”

“Yeah, there’s that.”

One-Eye has been known to cheat. Hard to manage in a game as simpleminded as tonk, but there you go. He is One-Eye.

“Lucky at cards, unlucky at love,” he said, which made no sense in context.

Goblin cracked, “You better hire yourself some bodyguards. Women will be tearing down doors trying to get to you.”

A wisecrack from Goblin generally fires One-Eye up. He has a hair trigger. We waited for it. One-Eye just grinned and told Otto, “Deal, loser. And make it a hand like the one Elmo just gave me.”

Goblin said something about Missus Hand being the only lucky lady in One-Eye’s life.

One-Eye went on ignoring the bait.

I began to worry.

Otto’s deal did not help.

One-Eye said, “You know how we run into weird customs wherever we go?”

Elmo glared holes through his cards. He grunted. Otto arranged and rearranged his