The Complete Malazan Book of the Fallen, page 948
‘Repairs? I’ve just lost half my crew!’
‘We don’t need them.’
Skorgen Kaban clumped over. ‘Captain! Are we dead? Is this Mael’s Curse? Do we travel the Seas of Death? Is this the Lifeless River? Skull Ocean? Are we betwixt the Horns of Dire and Lost? In the Throes of—’
‘Gods below! Is there no end to these euphemisms for being dead?’
‘Aye, and the Euphemeral Deeps, too! The crew’s got questions, y’see—’
‘Tell them our luck holds, Skorgen, and those hasty ones in the boats, well, that’s what comes of not believing in your captain and first mate. Got that?’
‘Oh, they’ll like that one, Captain, since a moment ago they was cursing themselves for being too slow off the mark.’
‘The very opposite to be sure, First Mate. Off you go, then.’
‘Aye, Captain.’
Shurq Elalle faced the princess again. ‘To my cabin if you please, Highness. The bargain.’
‘The bargain? Oh, indeed. That. As you wish, but first, well, I need to change, lest I catch a chill.’
‘May the Errant look away, Highness.’
‘He is, dear, he is.’
Shurq watched the young woman walk to the hatch. ‘Dear’? Well, maybe she’s older than she looks.
No, what she is is a condescending, pampered princess. Oh, if only Ublala was on board, he’d set her right in no time. The thought forced out a snort of amusement. ‘Careful!’ she admonished herself, and then frowned. Oh, I see. I’m freezing solid. No leakage for the next little while, I guess. Best get moving. And keep moving. She looked round, if somewhat stiffly.
Yes, the ship was on the move, riding a current already lumpy with ice. The fog embraced them, their very own private cloud. We travel blind.
‘Captain! Crew wants t’know, is this the White Road?’
‘Provisions.’
Destriant Kalyth looked across at the Shield Anvil. ‘There are drones. And wagon beds where food grows. Matron Gunth Mach prepares us. We shall wander as the great herds once wandered.’
The red-bearded man rose on the Ve’Gath’s stirrups of hide and bone. ‘Great herds? Where?’
‘Well, they all died.’
Stormy scowled. ‘Died how?’
‘Mostly, we killed them, Shield Anvil. The Elan were more than just keepers of myrid and rodara. We also hunted. We fought over possession of wild herds and crossings, and when we lost, why, we’d poison the beasts to spite our enemies. Or destroy the crossings, so that animals drowned on their migrations. We were one with the land.’
From her other side, Gesler snorted. ‘Who’s been opening your eyes, Kalyth?’
She shrugged. ‘Our spirit gods starved. What did we do wrong? Nothing, we didn’t change a thing. We lived as we’d always lived. And it was murderous. The wild beasts vanished. The land dried up. We fought each other, and then came the Adjudicators. Out from the east.’
‘Who were they?’
Bitterness stung her words. ‘Our judgement, Shield Anvil. They looked upon our deeds. They followed the course of our lives, our endless stupidities. And they decided that our reign of abuse must end.’ She shot the man a look. ‘I should have died with my kin. Instead, I ran away. I left them all to die. Even my own children.’
‘A terrible thing,’ muttered Stormy, ‘but the crime was with those Adjudicators. Your people would have had to change their ways sooner or later. No, the blood is on their hands.’
‘Tell us more about them,’ Gesler said.
She was riding a Ve’Gath, as were her companions. The thump of the huge Che’Malle’s clawed feet seemed far below her. She could barely feel their impacts on the hard ground. The sky was dull, cloudy over a grey landscape. Behind them the two children, Sinn and Grub, shared another Ve’Gath. They hardly ever spoke; in fact, Kalyth could not recall ever hearing Sinn’s voice, though Grub had let on that her apparent muteness was habit rather than an affliction.
Creatures of fire. Demonspawn. Gesler and Stormy know them, but even they are not easy in their company. No, I do not like our two children.
Kalyth took a moment to gather her thoughts. ‘The Adjudicators had risen to power first in Kolanse,’ she said after a time. She didn’t want to remember them, didn’t want to think about any of that, but she forced herself to continue. ‘When we first heard of them, in our camps, the stories came from caravan guards and traders. They spoke nervously, with fear in their eyes. “Not human,” they said. They were priests. Their cult was founded on the Spire, which is promontory in the bay of Kolanse, and it was there that they first settled, building a temple and then a fortress.’
‘So they were foreigners?’ Gesler asked.
‘Yes. From somewhere called the Wretched Coast. All I have heard of this is second-hand. They arrived in ships of bone. The Spire was unoccupied – who would choose to live on cursed land? And to begin with there was but one ship, crewed by slaves, and twelve or thirteen priests and priestesses. Hardly an invasion, as far as the king of Kolanse was concerned. And when they sent an emissary to his court, he welcomed her. The native priesthoods were not as pleased and they warned their king, but he overruled them. The audience was granted. The Adjudicator was arrogant. She spoke of justice as if her people alone were its iron hand. Indeed, that emissary pointed a finger upon the king himself and pronounced his fall.’
‘I bet he wasn’t so pleased any more,’ Stormy said with a grunt. ‘He lopped the fool’s head off, I hope.’
‘He tried,’ Kalyth replied. ‘Soldiers and then sorcery – the throne room became a slaughterhouse, and when the battle was over she alone strode out from the palace. And in the harbour were a hundred more ships of bone. This is how the horror began.’
Gesler twisted in his saddle and seemed to study the two children for a moment, before facing forward again. ‘Destriant, how long ago was this?’
She shrugged. ‘Fifty, sixty years ago. The Adjudicators scoured out all the other priesthoods. More and more of their own followers arrived, season after season. The Watered, they were called. Those with human blood in them. Those first twelve or so, they were the Pures. From Estobanse Province – the richest land of Kolanse – they spread their power outward, enforcing their will. They were not interested in waging war upon the common people, and by voice alone they could make entire armies kneel. From Kolanse they began toppling one dynasty after another – in all the south kingdoms, those girdling the Pelasiar Sea, until all the lands were under their control.’ She shuddered. ‘They were cruel masters. There was drought. Starvation. They called it the Age of Justice, and left the people to die. Those who objected they executed, those who sought to rise against them, they annihilated. Before long, they reached the lands of my people. They crushed us like fleas.’
‘Ges,’ said Stormy after a time, ‘if not human, then what?’
‘Kalyth, are these Adjudicators tusked?’
‘Tusked? No.’
‘Describe them.’
‘They are tall, gaunt. Their skin is white as alabaster, and their limbs do not move as do those of humans. From their elbows, they can bend their lower arms in all directions. It is said their bodies are hinged, as if they had two sets of hips, one stacked atop the other. And they can stand like us, or with legs like those of a horse. No weapon can reach them, and a single touch from their long fingers can shatter all the bones in a warrior’s body. Sorcerous attacks drain down from them like water.’
‘Is it the same for the Watered,’ Gesler wanted to know, ‘or just the Pures?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Have you seen one of these Adjudicators with your own eyes?’
She hesitated, and then shook her head.
‘But your tribe—’
‘We heard they were coming. We knew they would kill us all. I ran.’
‘Hood’s breath!’ barked Stormy. ‘So you don’t know if they ever—’
‘I snuck back, days later, Shield Anvil.’ She had to force the words out, her mouth dry as dust, her thoughts cold as a corpse. ‘They were thorough.’ I snuck back. But is that even true? Or did I just dream that? The broken faces of my children, so still. My husband, his spine twisted impossibly, his eyes staring. The dead dogs, the shamans’ heads on poles. And the blood, everywhere – even my tears… ‘I ran. I am the last of my people.’
‘This drought you mentioned,’ Gesler said, ‘had it struck before these Adjudicators arrived, or after?’
‘Estobanse thrives on springs. A valley province, with vast mountains to the north and another range to the south. The sea to the east and plains to the west. The droughts were in the south kingdoms, and in the other Kolanse territories. I do not know when they started, Mortal Sword, but even in the tales from my childhood I seem to recall grief lying heavy upon the settled lands.’
‘And the Elan Plains?’
She shook her head. ‘Always dry, always trouble – it is why the clans fought so much. We were running out of everything. I was a child. A child gets used to things, it all feels…normal – for all the years I was with my people, it was like that.’
‘So what brought the Adjudicators to the place,’ Gesler wondered, ‘if it was already suffering?’
‘Weakness,’ said Stormy. ‘Take any starving land, and you’ll find a fat king. Nobody’d weep at that slaughter in the throne room. Priests blathering on about justice. Must have sounded sweet, at least to start with.’
‘Aye,’ Gesler agreed. ‘Still, that Spire, where they built their temple – Kalyth, you called it cursed. Why?’
‘It is where a star fell from the sky,’ she explained.
‘Recently?’
‘No, long ago, but round the promontory the seawater is red as blood – and nothing can live in that water.’
‘Did any of that change once the Adjudicators installed their temple?’
‘I don’t know. I have never seen the place – please, I just don’t know. I don’t even know why we’re marching in this direction. There is nothing to the east – nothing but bones.’ She glared at Gesler. ‘Where’s your army of allies? Dead! We need to find somewhere else to go. We need— ’ somewhere to hide. Ancestors forgive me. No, her fears were all too close to the surface. A score of questions could rip through her thin skin – it hadn’t taken much, had it?
‘We don’t know that,’ Stormy said, chewing at his moustache and not meeting her eyes.
I’m sorry. I know.
‘When Gu’Rull gets back,’ Gesler said in a low tone, ‘we’ll know more. In the meantime, on we go, Destriant. No point in doing anything else.’
She nodded. I know. Forgive me. Forgive us all.
Their power was a dark, swirling stain, spinning out like a river at the head of the vast, snaking column. Gu’Rull studied the manifestation from above, where he was gliding just beneath the thick overcast which had spread down from the northwest. His wounds were healing, and he had travelled far, ranging out over the Wastelands.
He had observed the tattered remnants of human armies, swollen with massive trains. And south of them but drawing closer by the day another force, the ranks disciplined in their march, unblooded and, as far as such things went, formidable. Despite the commands of the Mortal Sword, neither force was of much interest to the Shi’gal Assassin. No, the knots of power he had sensed elsewhere were far more fascinating, but of them all, not one compared to that which emanated from the two human children, Sinn and Grub. Travelling there, at the very head of the Gunthan Nest.
Of course, it could be called ‘Nest’ no longer, could it? There was no room, no solid, protected roost for the last clan of the K’Chain Che’Malle.
Even leadership had been surrendered. To three humans. There was no doubt that without them the Che’Malle would have been destroyed by the Nah’ruk. Three humans, clad in strange titles, and two children, wearing little more than rags.
So many lusted after power. It was the crushing step of history, in every civilization that had ever existed. Gu’Rull had no taste for it. Better that more of his kind existed, behind every throne, to cut the throat at the first hint of mad ambition. Enough heads rolling down the ages and perhaps the lesson would finally be learned, though he doubted it.
The assassin must never die. The shadows must ever remain. We hold the world in check. We are the arbiters of reason. It is our duty, our purpose.
I have seen them. I have seen what they can do, and the joy in their eyes at the devastation they can unleash. But their throats are soft. If I must, I will rid the world of them. The power was sickly, a swathe of something vile. It leaked from their indifferent minds and fouled the sweet scents of his kin – their joy at victory, their gratitude to the Mortal Sword and the Shield Anvil, their love for Kalyth, the Destriant of the K’Chain Che’Malle. Their faith in a new future.
But these children. They need to die. Soon.
‘Forkrul Assail,’ whispered Grub into Sinn’s ear. ‘The Crystal City knew them, even the Watered ones. It holds the memory of them. Sinn, they are at the centre of the war – they’re the ones the Adjunct is hunting.’
‘No more,’ she hissed back at him. ‘Don’t talk. What if they hear you?’
He sniffed. ‘You think they don’t know? Gesler and Stormy? Forkrul Assail, Sinn, but now she’s wounded. Badly wounded. We need to stop her, or the Bonehunters will get slaughtered—’
‘If there’re any of them left.’
‘There are. Reach with your mind—’
‘That’s her sword – that barrier that won’t let us in. Her Otataral sword.’
‘Meaning she’s still alive—’
‘No, just that somebody’s carrying it. Could be Brys Beddict, could be Warleader Gall. We don’t know, we can’t get close enough to find out.’
‘Gu’Rull—’
‘Wants us dead.’
Grub flinched. ‘What did we ever do to him? Except save his hide.’
‘Him and all the other lizards. Doesn’t matter. We might turn on them all, and who could stop us?’
‘You could turn on ’em. I won’t. So I’ll be the one stopping you. Don’t try it, Sinn.’
‘We’re in this together,’ she said. ‘Partners. I was just saying. It’s why that assassin hates us. Nobody controls us but us. Grownups always hate that.’
‘Forkrul Assail. Gesler wants to join this army to the Adjunct’s – that has to be what he’s planning, isn’t it?’
‘How should I know? Probably.’
‘So we will fight Forkrul Assail.’
She flashed him a wicked smile. ‘Like flies, I will pluck their legs off.’
‘Who’s the girl?’
Sinn rolled her eyes. ‘Not again. I’m sick of talking about her.’
‘She’s in the Crystal City. She’s waiting for us.’
‘She’s insane, that’s what she is. You felt that, you had to. We both felt it. No, let’s not talk about her any more.’
‘You’re afraid of her,’ Grub said. ‘Because maybe she’s stronger than both of us.’
‘Aren’t you? You should be.’
‘At night,’ said Grub, ‘I dream of red eyes. Opening. Just opening. That’s all.’
‘Never mind that dream,’ she said, looking away.
He could feel all her muscles, tight and wiry, and he knew that this was an embrace he could not hold on to for very much longer. She’s scarier than the assassin. You in the Crystal City, are you as frightened as me?
‘Stupid dream,’ said Sinn.
It was midday. Gesler called a halt. The vast column stopped en masse, and then drones stepped out to begin preparations for feeding.
Wincing as he extricated himself from the scaled saddle of the Ve’Gath, noting with relief that the welts on the beast’s flanks were healing, the Mortal Sword dropped down to the ground. ‘Stormy, let’s stretch our legs—’
‘I don’t need help taking a piss.’
‘After that, idiot.’
Stretching out the aches in his lower back, he walked out from the column, making a point of ignoring Sinn and Grub as they clambered down. Every damned morning since the battle, he’d half expected to find them gone. He wasn’t fool enough to think he had any control over them. Torching sky-keeps like pine cones, Hood save us all.
Stormy appeared, spitting on his hands to wash them. ‘That fucking assassin doesn’t want to come down. Bad news?’
‘I doubt he’d quake over delivering that, Stormy. No, he’s just making a point.’
‘Soon as he comes down,’ Stormy growled, ‘my fist will make one of its own.’
Gesler laughed. ‘You couldn’t reach its snarly snout, not even with a ladder. What are you going to do, punch its kneecap?’
‘Maybe, why not? Bet it’d hurt something awful.’
Gesler drew off his helmet. ‘Forkrul Assail, Stormy. Hood’s hairy bag.’
‘If she’s still alive, she must be having second thoughts. Who knows how many the Nah’ruk ate? For all we know, there’s only a handful of Bonehunters left.’
‘I doubt it,’ Gesler said. ‘There’s standing and taking it when that’s what you have to do. And then there’s cutting out and setting fire to your own ass. She didn’t want that fight. So they ran into her. She would’ve done what she needed to do to pull her soldiers out of it. It was probably messy, but it wasn’t a complete annihilation.’
‘If you say so.’
‘Look, it’s a fighting withdrawal until you can reasonably break. You narrow your front. You throw your heavies into that wall, and then you let yourself get pushed backward, step after step, until it’s time to turn and run. And if the Letherii were worth anything, they’d have bled off some pressure. Best case scenario, we lost about a thousand—’
‘Mostly heavies and marines – the heart of the army, Ges—’
‘So you find a new one. A thousand.’
