The Black Company in Equestria

Our marching orders came the next morning. We were ordered to regroup with the Company at Wadi-al-Suf, a scrubby little oasis just east of the mountains. We were ordered to be quick about it. Grayborn had started launching raids targeting wells and other water sources. Either he knew we were moving in, or he just decided to take out some frustration on the locals.

We rounded up our gear in record time. Jackal went over Bonesinger one last time, but got nothing new about Grayborn's forces or the mysterious doorway. Marsuf and Jacky Boy drew the short straws, so they got the privilege of disposing of him after the wizard was done. The last I saw of Bonesinger before I hustled out the door was his strangled corpse going into a sack as his two killers argued over dumping him in an alley versus lugging him down to the river.

“Move fast and keep off the main road.” Jackal relayed the Captain's orders as our camels jogged out of Dewar. “The Company has not met any resistance, but our scouts reported increasing numbers of Grayborn's men being sighted. Looks like he's falling back on scorched earth tactics.”

“Hard to scorch this place any harder.” Priest snarked.

“Try living here without three wizards and the Vizier's supplies keeping you alive.” I said. “Out here, water is the difference between life and death for these people.”

Priest sneered. “Don't look much like livin' to me. Farmin' sand just so some inbred idiot can take anything you grow.”

“They'll probably live longer than you.” I countered.

“There's a difference between just being alive and living.” Priest tapped the pommel of his sword and grinned. “This is living.”

“I'll be sure and record that jewel of an aphorism for the Annals.” I held up imaginary paper and pen, pantomimed writing. “Dear Annals, today Priest spoke words of wisdom too precious for our mortal ears. I record them here lest they be forgotten and our world be made—hey!”

Priest slung a feed bag at my face, kicked his camel into a clumsy trot to avoid return fire. I gave chase until Lamb sternly suggested we desist or walk.

**

Jacky Boy and Marsuf caught up with us a few miles out of town. We had reached the top of the low ridge that separated the lowlands near the ocean from the raw desert. Jackal was off his camel, sniffing around.

“Well?” Lamb asked impatiently. He had his orders.

“All taken care of, Sergeant.” Marsuf said. He looked down at Jackal, who was running his fingers through the road dust. “Did we lose something?”

“Some men passed this way not too long ago.” Jackal proclaimed, dusting himself off. “They were riding hard for the north.”

“Grayborn's?”

“Not an unwise assumption. I believe they may have been looking for Bonesinger.”

Jacky Boy giggled. Lamb ignored him. “Are they still in the area?”

“Can't say for sure.” Jackal adopted his 'Don't bother me, I'm communing with spirits' look.

“We ride on.” Lamb decided. “Jackal, would you kindly let us know if they try to jump our asses? Everyone else, bows where you can reach them.”

**

They ambushed us about ten miles down the road. We were riding across a wide, utterly flat expanse of hardpan that might have once been a lake. The road snaked across it, aiming for the mountains dimly seen along the horizon. As we neared the northern end of the flats, the road zigzagged up a steep incline, then vanished into a canyon between the crumbling cliff walls that marked the shoreline of the ancient lake. We were within fifty yards of the cliffs when Jackal yipped and flung out a hand. An orange cloud boiled up from the cliff top to one side of the canyon. Arrows arced out in response. “Back!” Lamb shouted. We yanked our camels' heads around, loped out of arrowshot.

“Found your riders, Jackal.” Jacky Boy stated the obvious.

“I spotted eight men, Sergeant.” Egg said.

“Probably more than that. Jackal?”

The wizard screwed up his face, concentrated for a few moments. “A dozen, maybe two. I can't be more accurate than that.”

Lamb stared at the reddish cliffs blocking our path. “So. They've got us outnumbered. And they have the high ground. He glanced up at the sky, back to the cliffs. “We can't do anything in the daylight. Let's bunker down.”

We set up camp just out of bowshot. With the sun baking the desert hardpan, we had little inclination to do anything besides sit in our makeshift tents and wait it out. Tonk occupied most of our time, except for Lamb and Jackal, who put their heads together to hash out a plan. Flick took bets over how many men were waiting for us on the cliffs. The odds settled on fifteen.

I played Tonk most of the day with Egg, Jacky Boy, and Marsuf. We played with a kind of grim intensity, trying to keep our minds off our own discomfort. The sun baked this place like a giant griddle, and the still air offered no respite from the suffocating heat. We drank sparingly from our water skins and consoled ourselves with the thought that our enemies were suffering even greater torment atop their cliff. Well, except for Priest, who wagered that Grayborn's men had already left.

**

The sun finally set. Lamb briefed us on the plan. We checked weapons, tested equipment, and waited. The darkness had deepened to a nice inky black before we finally set out. Jackal laid on a few spells to further hide us from the enemy. Another spell did something to our eyes. The night brightened to a sullen twilight. We pushed forward, reaching the cliff wall without incident. Everyone strained their ears for the slightest sound, but the cliff was as silent as the dead plain behind us. We entered the narrow, debris-strewn canyon. About thirty yards from the entrance, Egg spotted the path to the cliff top. Not much more than a tiny wash cut out by the rare rainstorm, but still better than trusting to a rope and a whole lot of luck. We squeezed up it single file and prayed Jackal's spells held. A minute or two of silent, frantic scrambling up the slot, and we reached the cliff top. Egg was on point. He flashed a hand signal, we froze in place while he ever so slowly eased up to peek over the top. Satisfied with what he saw, he waved us up. We silently filed up, spreading out and facing the cliff edge. Hand signals flashed back and forth as we began to spot men lying along the top of the cliff. When Lamb was satisfied that we're all in position, he waved us forward. We rolled them up from behind with no trouble or noise. Jackal's sound deadening spells rolled forward with us, blanketing the area. When it was over we regrouped. Jackal pointed to the opposite side of the canyon, held up six fingers. We moved across, repeated the trick. This time there was two of them watching the trail up to the top. It did them no good. Jackal's sorcerous fingers closed around their eyes before we shot them down. We took care of the rest, caught our breath, relaxed. Lamb sent Marsuf and Flick back for our camels and equipment. He and I searched the plateau for our enemies' camp while the others went over the bodies. We had to stop and scrounge up torches halfway through because Jackal let his spells drop. Lazy bastard. We finally uncovered their camp down in another gully when I spooked one of their camels tied there. We went over the hastily made camp. I found food and water, spare equipment, and a few personal odds and ends of the kind carried by men like us. Crudely made personal talismans, a ceremonial weapon, and a battle trophy or two. Nothing special caught my eye, but more importantly, there was nothing to say these men were Grayborn's. Lamb didn't find anything worth noting either. Five minutes later we were back in the saddle, headed north.

I was riding shoeless, trying to knock the last of the canyon grit out of my boots, when Jacky Boy pulled up alongside me.

“Hey Marus, the Annals have a lot of of information on different places, right? I mean, even places the Company's never been?”

“That would be fair to say, yes.”

“Well do you know of a place a coin like this could have come from?” He passed me the coin in question.

Ignoring his consideration of the Annals as no more than a pawnbroker's guide, I held the coin up to the moonlight. On one side was what appeared to be a crescent moon. The mark on the other side was a bit more stylized, but I hazarded a guess that it was supposed to be the sun. Beneath each image was stamped 'One Bit'. I frowned at it. I've handled the coinage of hundreds of nations in my time with the Company, but I'd never seen a coin like this.

I handed it back to Jacky Boy. “Where'd you find this?”

“On one of the guys we scragged back on the cliffs.”

I might have guessed.

“Did he have anything else unusual on him?”

“Nah, just this.”

“Hmm. Well it's obviously gold, but I've got no idea where it might have come from. Hang onto it in any case. With luck, we might find more like it.”

Jacky Boy grinned and kicked his camel into a trot. “Thanks, Marus.”

**

Two days of hard riding later, we rejoined the Company without further incident. Several times we saw bands of men in the distance that could have been Grayborn's, but as they always disappeared after we saw them, there was no way to be sure. We were picked up by Company outriders a mile or two out from Wadi-al-Suf. They swapped us fresh mounts and told us to hurry. The Captain had already been apprised of our success thanks to Jackal, but he wanted the details too.

“...we rolled up each side from behind under cover of the spells, killed everyone we found, and searched the area. We didn't find anything unusual, though. We headed out, rode hard, met our scouts two days later, and here we are.”

The Captain sat behind the table, pondering Lamb's summary. “You say there was no way to verify the allegiance of your attackers?” he asked quietly.

“Yes sir.”

The Captain nodded. “The men were likely his. Grayborn wields enormous power in this region.” He leaned forward, steepling his fingers together. “You men did well. Return to your unit and get some rest. Not you, Marus.” he caught me as I turned to leave. “I want you to check the Annals, find out everything you can about gates. I want to know what we're dealing with, and I want to know if Grayborn has overreached himself.”

He raised a hand, dismissing me. The Lieutenants waiting in the wings took it as their cue to swoop back in. Exercising my Annalistic privileges, I hung around and listened.

The Lieutenants were talking shop, using the map spread across the table to plot their strategies. Lieutenant Altan jabbed at the map, slashing his finger across and over the mountains. He wanted the Company moving now, smashing through Grayborn's forces, going straight for the throat. Altan is the Black Company's hothead. The years have tempered the rashness out of him, but he retained his enthusiasm for breaking the enemy here and now, damn the consequences and damn the cowards. Livius stepped in to argue his plan. His finger traced a semicircle around the mountains, tapped passes and likely choke points. Livius is Altan's tactical opposite. Meticulous and patient, he uses the Company to grind the enemy down with steady, relentless pressure. Now Viorel had the Captain's attention. He wanted the Company's siege engines brought up and tied into a series of forts along the mountain range. The Company could strike at will from their safety, while Grayborn would have to scramble to defend each point. I walked out when Albus took the floor. The oldest of the Lieutenants, he drew on a lifetime of experience to create traps which could destroy whole armies. He just liked taking his time laying them out.

So it went. For as long as I've been a brother of the Company, the four Lieutenants have argued, plotted, planned, and given their advice. The Captain passed judgment, picked and chose elements from one or another of their strategies to use. His word is final. Once the Captain gave his orders, the Lieutenants took their places in the battle plan like every other brother. This arrangement gave us a breadth of strategy from the Lieutenants while the Captain kept us focused on our goal. It hasn't always been this way with the Company leadership, and I doubt it will always be so. But it works for us.

I toured the camp before looking for my squad. Judging by the commotion outside the east gate, we'd gotten more reinforcements from the locals. Opportunistic raiders to a man, the Captain would feed them to Grayborn the first chance he got. Gets them out of our hair before they start stealing Company supplies. Who knows, they might even take a few enemies down with them.

Elsewhere, the camp was quiet. I found my own squad sitting around their fire – temperatures dropped fast around here once the sun set. I dug some rations out of my pack and made a meal of it. The others had already eaten and were bedding down. I tried to write down a few passages in the Annals, but didn't get too far. My last good night's sleep was two days ago, and I was asleep within minutes of crawling into my bedroll.

**

I was up bright and early the next morning, digging through the Annals for any clue as to the origin and abilities of the gate. The Annals were housed next to Company headquarters, so I caught some of the comings and goings as the Lieutenants and sergeants scurried around. Apparently Grayborn had launched more probing attacks out of the mountains. We were using the native auxiliaries to turn them back while the Company advanced. All strictly standard procedure. I spent most of the day going through the Annals, but apart from the Shadowgates documented in the Books of Sleepy and Croaker, I couldn't find any references to gates, let alone anything like what we had here. That was probably a bad thing. I hunted down Jackal at the armory to ask his opinion.

“I didn't have the slightest damn clue back in Dewar, Marus, what the hell makes you think I've had an epiphany since then?”

“Just trying to be thorough.” I tried playing to his pride. “I know you're kind of a genius when it comes to magic artifacts, so I-”

“I. Don't. Know.” he growled. “Go bother Chains or Flint, I've got work to do.” He went back to tapping the racked weapons with a little black cylinder, refreshing their enchantments. I left.

I presented my findings, or lack thereof, to the Captain. He nodded his thanks and suggested I find myself something to do.

**

“That,” said Flick with the judicious solemnity of a vintner sipping a rare year, “is a big damn pile of rocks.”

The big damn rock pile in question was a tall craggy spur that stood out a little ways from the main mountain range. Myself, my squad, and a bunch of Company brothers were hunkered down in a dry wash not a hundred yards from the nearest outcropping. Our orders were to take the peak for two reasons: first, to serve as an observation post and jumping off point to the next peak, and second, to test Grayborn's strength. With luck, Grayborn wouldn't be very attached to this particular big damn pile of rocks.

“Eighteen.”

“Ha, fifteen!”

“Damn it, you did that on purpose.”

“Hope you're luckier at fighting than at cards, Priest.”

“If I was any unluckier, I'd keel over dead right now.”

“I hope not, you owe me twenty dinar.”

“And you owe me eight, so what's your point?”

“Hey, fifty says I can sneak over there and grab a kill before anyone notices.”

“I will give you one hundred for a live prisoner.”

“Done!”

“Jacky Boy, sit down and stop being stupid. Egg, stop encouraging him.”

“Awww.”

“Heads up, there's the Lieutenant.”

“Alright, put the cards away. Everyone stand to.”

On the Lieutenant's signal we rushed the hill. We got a few dozen yards before we were spotted. Arrows zipped out and fell well short. Whatever strengths Grayborn's men may have had, fire discipline was not one of them.

“Heads up!” someone behind me shouted.

I spared a glance upward and almost tripped over my own feet in shock. Three huge boulders were levitating in midair over the hill's peak. I noticed a faint orange aura surrounding them. They accelerated out in short arcs to slam into our advancing lines.

“Grayborn!” Priest yelled.

Damn.

We pushed through the hail of arrows and boulders and reached the base of the hill. With some brothers providing covering fire from the base, we cut our way up the hill. Grayborn's aim got more erratic as we closed in on the summit. My squad was one of the first to reach the top. When we reached the rim, we discovered the top of the hill was carved into a shallow bowl, which was teeming with enemies. In the center I spotted the man himself, Grayborn. A gaunt looking man in gray robes, he held a long staff or spear of some kind. As I watched, the head glowed with an orange aura, lifting another boulder into the sky. It zipped away, narrowly missing the edge and vanishing over the side.

It's a long shot from where we were to Grayborn, but we're not going to stand by and watch him lob rocks at our brothers.

“Flick!”

“On it.” He took a knee, breathed in, out. The crossbow tunked as the bolt zipped away. It flew straight and true, catching Grayborn in the side. He staggered. There was an orange flash as a prepped spell went awry, scorching nearby defenders. We all had our bows out now, peppering the scrambling figures below us. Grayborn was down on one knee, clawing at the bolt. His bodyguard closed in around him, shields out. The roar of battle began to spill over all sides of the rim. Too late, the nearest group of enemies rushed us. We cut down some and drove the rest back the way they came. We shot down more as they fled. Lamb gave the order to hold position. The enemy had nowhere to run. Black-clad Company brothers were swarming over the lip of the basin on all sides. Just like that, their fortress had turned into a death trap. The mass of enemies surged back and forth, looking for a way to escape. I lost sight of Grayborn. A few of his lieutenants who distinguished themselves by attempting to restore order were shot down by Company snipers.

We thinned the enemy's ranks by a fair amount before discipline was restored. Grayborn's men turtled up, although they were hampered by a lack of shields. Some men used camp supplies, harnesses, or even the pincushioned bodies of comrades. We pounded away at them as they crept towards the far rim of the crater. The brothers on the far side locked shields and prepared to meet them. The Lieutenant appeared on the rim nearby. He signaled a general advance.

We were advancing through the remains of the enemy camp when there was a tremendous orange flash and pop from the middle of the enemy ranks. Just like that, the middle two-thirds of the enemy had vanished, leaving a ring of very confused warriors behind.

“Hold!” the Lieutenant bellowed. We grounded shields, weapons ready.

“The hell was that?” Jacky Boy hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

“Dangerous magic.” Egg whispered. “Grayborn is more powerful than we thought.”

Grayborn's losses from that battle were serious but not crippling, due to him teleporting most of his warriors to safety at the last moment. We suffered few casualties ourselves. Most of the men we lost were crushed by the levitating boulders or shot down by Greyborn's archers.

We took a few prisoners. Mostly for form's sake: no one expected to get anything useful out of them, but there was always that chance. Still, we got some information about the position and layout of Grayborn's tunnels in the area. Solid intelligence, but still no clue as to the nature of Grayborn's increasingly spectacular powers. Interestingly enough, the prisoners we interrogated all insisted that Greyborn had never displayed an ability to teleport before. Either he was playing things close to the chest, or such a spell strained the limits of his power. A few of the levitating boulders that landed intact were examined as well. We found no obvious arcane markings on them, but with our wizards deployed farther north with the main force, the stones could have been housed the spirits of dead gods for all we knew.

**

“Teleportation! He's just straight up teleporting like its nothing! I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that one of those things that's considered impossible? That and throwing giant rocks with your mind. But hey, its not like he could have any other tricks up his sleeve. Surprise, he's secretly a demon!”

“Priest is right.” Marsuf admitted. “The more we learn about this man, the more secrets he reveals.”

“Its serious, but not the end of the world,” I said. “Now that we know what he can do, we can guard against it. And even Grayborn's power has limits. Did you see the huge orange flash when he teleported? That would be a dead giveaway in the dark like this.”

It was the night after we took the hill. Most of our company occupied the crater on top, with the rest positioned along each flank, waiting to spring on any potential ambushers. We were lying in the dark, as any fires in the crater would have silhouetted our sentries for enemy snipers. The thought that, barring sorcerous teleportation, an enemy attack wouldn't include Grayborn was some consolation. Off to the north we could see the flash and glow of dueling magics. I hoped our wizards were giving him hell.

“Did you see his staff?” Flick was asking. “Right before I shot him, he levitated a rock. The rock had the weird orange glow, but the head of his staff did too.”

“Maybe that means we're dealing with an artifact.” Priest guessed.

“Don't see how that makes things better.” Jacky Boy grumbled. “He's still got the magic and we're still the ones he's using it on.”

“Yeah, but if its an artifact, then the object has the power. It means he's not some freakishly powerful wizard, he just got lucky and found the thing.”

“Speculation means nothing.” Egg pronounced. “It does not matter from where he draws his power. We will hunt him down and kill him all the same.”

“Hell yeah we will.” Jacky Boy agreed.

“I wonder,” Priest said slowly. “if Grayborn even knows where his power comes from.”

“Probably a demon. Or a child. Demon child.”

“Uhh, what?”

I chuckled. “Its just a joke. Try to get some sleep before Grayborn pops in and kills us all.”

As if on cue, one of the Lieutenant's aides materialized out of the darkness. “Sergeant Lamb, get your men to the perimeter. You'll be relieving Cragger's squad on the north wall.”

“Sir.” Lamb got to his feet as the man vanished into the night. “Alright boys, let's go.”

“Hey,” I yawned as we pick our way through the rocks. “at least we get to watch the light show.”