Feather moved close to the girl. She had taken a real blast out there. I did not feel the aura of great power rigidly constrained that one usually senses in the presence of the Taken. And she did not sense the life still throbbing in Marron Shed. "So young." She lifted the girl's chin. "Oh. What eyes. Fire and steel. The Lady will love this one."

"We keep the watch?" I asked, assuming she would confiscate the prisoner.

"Of course. There may be others." She faced me. "No more will get through. The margin is too narrow. Whisper will forgive the latest. But the next is your doom."

"Yes, ma'am. Only it's hard to do and not attract the attention of the locals. We can't just go set up a roadblock.''

"Why not?"

I explained. She had scouted the black castle and knew the lay of the land. "You're right. For the moment. But your Company will be here soon. There'll be no need for secrecy then."

"Yes, ma'am."

Feather took the girl's hand. "Come," she said.

I was amazed at how docilely our hellcat followed Feather. I went outside and watched Feather's battered carpet rise and hurry toward Duretile. One despairing cry floated in its wake.

I found Shed in the doorway when I turned to go inside. I wanted to smack him for that, but controlled myself.

"Who was that?" he asked. '"What was that?"

"Feather. One of the Taken. One of my bosses."

"Sorceress?"

"One of the greatest. Go sit. Let's talk. I need to know exactly what that girl knows about Raven and Darling."

Intense questioning convinced me that Lisa did not know enough to arouse Whisper's suspicions. Unless she connected the name Raven with the man who had helped capture her years ago.

I continued grilling Shed till first light. He practically begged to tell every filthy detail of his story. He had a big need to confess. Over coming days, when I sneaked down to the Buskin, he revealed everything recorded where he appears as the focal character. I do not think I have met many men who disgusted me more. Nastier men, yes. I have encountered scores. Greater villains come by the battalion. Shed's leavening of self-pity and cowardice reduced him from those categories to an essentially pathetic level.

Poor dolt. He was born to be used.

And yet. . . . There was one guttering spark in Matron Shed, reflected in his relationships with his mother, Raveo, Asa, Lisa, Sal, and Darling, that he noted but did not recognize himself. He had a hidden streak of charity and decency. It was the gradual growth of that spark, with its eventual impact upon the Black Company, which makes me feel obligated to record all the earlier noxious details about that frightened little man.

The morning following his capture, I rode into the city in Shed's wagon and allowed him to open the Iron Lily as usual. During the morning I got Elmo and Goblin in for a conference. Shed was unsettled when he discovered that we all knew one another. Only through sheer luck had he not been taken earlier.