The Complete Malazan Book of the Fallen

by Steven Erikson

  Trull watched his mother stride into the command tent. He glanced at Fear and saw his brother staring at him.

  ‘Did you come here to speak to me about something?’

  Trull hesitated, then said, ‘My warriors are about to come to you seeking a new commander. I thought to anticipate them by resigning.’

  Fear smiled. ‘“Resigning.” I suppose we are indeed an army now. In the Letherii fashion. Sergeants, lieutenants, captains.’

  ‘And commanders.’

  ‘There will be no resignations, Trull.’

  ‘Very well. Expect Canarth to request an audience soon.’

  ‘And he shall have one, although he will not leave pleased.’ Fear stepped close. ‘We will soon be joining our brothers. I know you will have words you will want to say to Rhulad. Be careful, Trull. Nothing is as it once was. Our people have changed.’

  ‘I can see that, Fear.’

  ‘Perhaps, but you do not understand it.’

  ‘Do you?’ Trull challenged.

  Fear shrugged, made no reply. A moment later, he walked back to his command tent.

  ‘Your mother,’ Lilac said, ‘would play a dangerous game.’

  ‘This is the emperor’s game, Lilac,’ Trull said. He faced the demon. ‘Your people are at war in your home realm?’

  ‘I am a caster of nets.’

  ‘Yet, should the need arise, your tyrant masters could call you into military service.’

  ‘The Kenryll’ah have ruled a long time, Trull Sengar. And have grown weak with complacency. They cannot see their own impending demise. It is always the way of things, such blindness. No matter how long and perfect the succession of fallen empires and civilizations so clearly writ into the past, the belief remains that one’s own shall live for ever, and is not subject to the indomitable rules of dissolution that bind all of nature.’ The small, calm eyes of the demon looked down steadily upon Trull. ‘I am a caster of nets. Tyrants and emperors rise and fall. Civilizations burgeon then die, but there are always casters of nets. And tillers of the soil, and herders in the pastures. We are where civilization begins, and when it ends, we are there to begin it again.’

  A curious speech, Trull reflected. The wisdom of peasants was rarely articulated in such clear fashion. Even so, claims to truth were innumerable. ‘Unless, Lilac, all the casters and tillers and herders are dead.’

  ‘I spoke not of ourselves, Trull, but of our tasks. Kenyll’rah, Edur, Letherii, the selves are not eternal. Only the tasks.’

  ‘Unless everything is dead.’

  ‘Life will return, eventually. It always does. If the water is foul, it will find new water.’

  ‘My mother said she would make use of you, to fashion a path,’ Trull said. ‘How will this be done?’

  ‘I will be sacrificed. My blood shall be the path.’

  ‘I did not have you healed only to have you sacrificed, Lilac.’

  ‘There is nothing you can do, Trull Sengar.’

  ‘There must be. Is there no way of setting you free?’

  The demon was silent for a moment, then it said, ‘Your blood can create a new binding. Myself to you, in exclusion of all else. Then you could command me.’

  ‘To do what? Return to your realm?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And could you then be summoned again?’

  ‘Only by you, Trull Sengar.’

  ‘You would have me as your master, Lilac?’

  ‘The alternative is death.’

  ‘Which you said earlier you’d prefer to slavery.’

  ‘Between the choices of fighting this war or dying, yes.’

  ‘But returning home…’

  ‘That is preferable to all else, Trull Sengar.’

  The Tiste Edur drew out his knife. ‘What must I do?’

  Trull entered the command tent a short while later. He found Fear and Uruth in the centre chamber. ‘Mother.’

  She turned, frowned. ‘What have you done?’

  ‘I sent my demon away. You will have to find another.’

  Her gaze dropped to his left hand, narrowed on the broad, still dripping cut across the palm. ‘I see. Tell me, son will your defiance never end?’

  ‘I paid a high price to save that demon’s life.’

  ‘What of it?’

  ‘You intended to use him to create your path into his realm—’

  ‘And?’

  ‘To do that, you would have to sacrifice it—’

  ‘The demon told you that? It lied, Trull. In fact, killing it would have severed its link to its own world. It deceived you, son. But you are bound now, the two of you. You can summon it back, and deliver your punishment.’

  Trull cocked his head, then smiled. ‘You know, Mother, I think I would have done the same, were I in its place. No, I have sent it home, and there it shall stay.’

  ‘Where it may well find itself fighting in another war.’

  ‘Not for me to decide,’ Trull said, shrugging.

  ‘You are difficult to understand,’ Uruth said, ‘and the effort wearies me.’

  ‘I am sorry,’ Trull said. ‘This alliance you will attempt with the demon tyrants—what is the emperor seeking from it? What does Rhulad plan to offer in return?’

  ‘Are you truly interested, son?’

  ‘I am.’

  Uruth shot Fear a glance, then sighed. ‘The Korvalahrai are seafarers. They are reaching into the Kenryll’ah lands via a vast river, and even now approach the heart in a fleet carrying all the Korvalahrai. Rhulad’s power is such that he can divert that river, for a time. The invading fleet will be destroyed in the conflagration. Achieving such a thing would in turn serve Edur needs, as well. In return, we are given more demons for our war, perhaps a minor Kenryll’ah or two, who are far better versed in the arts of battle than their subject Kenyll’rah.’ She turned to Fear. ‘I will need another demon.’

  ‘Very well.’

  ‘And then, a place of solitude.’

  Fear nodded. ‘Trull, return to your company.’

  As he was walking back to where his warriors were camped, Trull found himself smiling. Lilac’s pleasure, moments before it vanished, had been childlike. Yet the demon’s mind was not simple. It must have known there was a risk that, upon discovering the deception, Trull would summon it back in a fit of rage and inflict terrible punishment. For some reason, Lilac had concluded that such an event was unlikely.

  My weakness, so plain and obvious even a demon could see it.

  Perhaps he was not a warrior after all. Not a follower of commands, capable of shutting out all unnecessary thoughts in service to the cause. Not a leader, either, to stride ahead, certainty a blinding fire drawing all with him.

  Worse yet, he was suspicious of Rhulad’s transformation. Fear, in his youth, had displayed none of Rhulad’s strutting arrogance, his posing and posturing—all of which might well suit a leader of warriors, but not in the manner that Fear led warriors. Rhulad had been bluster, whilst Fear was quiet confidence, and Trull was not sure if that essential character trait had changed in Rhulad.

  I do not belong.

  The realization shocked him, slowed his steps. He looked around, feeling suddenly lost. Here, in the midst of his own people.

  The Tiste Edur have changed. But I haven’t.

  South, across the region known as the Swath, a deforested scrubland which had once been part of Outcry Wood, past the burnt-out town of Siege Place, and onto the slowly climbing Lookout Track towards the hills of Lookout Climb. Three days crossing the old hills—a range thoroughly denuded by wild goats—onto Moss Road. Marching northeast along the banks of the Moss River to the ford town of Ribs.

  Retreating Letherii forces had stripped the countryside ahead of the emperor and his army. The military food and materiel caches that Hull Beddict knew of were all emptied. If not for the shadow wraiths, supplying the Tiste Edur army would have been impossible—the invasion would have stalled. Unacceptable, Rhulad had decided. The enemy was reeling. It w
as necessary to keep it so.

  Udinaas remembered eating smoked eel from Moss River, one time when the trader ship had docked in Dresh. Delicious, once one got used to the furry skin, which was to be chewed but not swallowed. He had since heard, from another slave, that the eels had been transplanted into Dresh Lake, producing a strain that was both bigger and nastier. It had turned out that those eels captured in Moss River were juveniles, and few ever reached adulthood since there was a razor-jawed species of predatory fish resident in the river. No such fish in Dresh Lake. Adolescent swimmers from Dresh started disappearing before anyone realized the adult eels were responsible. Razor-jawed fish were netted from the river and tossed into the lake, but their behaviour changed, turning them into frenzy feeders. Adult swimmers from Dresh started vanishing. The slave who had been relating all this then laughed and finished with, ‘So they poisoned the whole lake, killed everything. And now no-one can swim in it!’

  From this, Udinaas surmised, various lessons could be drawn, should one be inclined to draw lessons from multiple acts of stupidity.

  They had camped on the road, a day’s march west of Ribs. The emperor was suffering from some kind of fever. Healers were tending to him, and the last Udinaas had heard, Rhulad was sleeping. It was late afternoon, and the sun’s light was painting the river’s surface red and gold.

  Udinaas walked along the stony strand, flinging rocks out onto the water every now and then, shattering the lurid hues. At the moment, he was not feeling anything like a slave, or an Indebted. He marched in the shadow of the emperor, for all to see, for all to wonder at.

  He heard boots crunching on pebbles and turned to see Hull Beddict scrambling down onto the strand. A big man, on whom every oversized muscle seemed to brood, somehow. There was fever in his eyes as well, but unlike Rhulad this heat had nothing to do with illness. ‘Udinaas.’

  The slave watched the man approach, fighting his instinctive urge towards deference. The time for that was past, after all. He just wasn’t sure what belonged in its stead.

  ‘I have been looking for you.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘The emperor’s condition…’

  Udinaas shrugged. ‘A marsh fever, nothing more—’

  ‘I was not speaking of that, slave.’

  ‘I am not your slave, Hull Beddict.’

  ‘I am sorry. You are right.’

  Udinaas collected another stone. He wiped the grit from its underside before throwing it out over the water. They watched it splash, then Udinaas said, ‘I understand your need to distinguish yourself from the other Letherii marching with this army. Even so, we are all bound to servitude, and the varying shades of that are not as relevant as they once were.’

  Perhaps you have a point, Udinaas, but I don’t quite understand what you’re getting at.’

  He brushed the grit from his hands. ‘Who better to teach the newly conquered Letherii than the Edur’s original Letherii slaves?’

  ‘You anticipate a new status for you and your fellow slaves, then?’

  ‘Maybe. How are the Tiste Edur to rule? Much remains to be answered, Hull Beddict. I gather you intend to involve yourself in that particular reshaping, if you can.’

  The man’s smile was sour. ‘It seems I am to have little or no role in much of anything, Udinaas.’

  ‘Then the Errant looks kindly upon you,’ Udinaas said.

  ‘I am not surprised you might see it that way.’

  ‘It is a waste of time, Hull Beddict, to fashion intricate plans for restitution. What you did before, all you did before—the mistakes, the bad decisions—they are dead, for everyone but you. None of it has purchased a future claim to glory, none of it has earned you anything.’

  ‘Has not the emperor heeded my advice?’

  ‘In this war? When it suited him. But I trust you are not expecting any consideration in return.’ Udinaas turned, met Hull’s eyes. ‘Ah, I think you are.’

  ‘Reciprocity, Udinaas. Surely the Tiste Edur understand that, since it is so essential within their own culture.’

  ‘There is no reciprocity when you display expectation. Hull Beddict. Poof! It vanishes. And that was just my point earlier: there is much that we can teach the future conquered Letherii.’

  ‘I am blood-bound to Binadas,’ Hull said, ‘yet you accuse me of insensitivity to the mores of the Tiste Edur.’ His expression was wry. ‘I am not often chastised in such things. You remind me of Seren Pedac.’

  ‘The Acquitor who escorted you? I saw her, in Trate.’

  Hull stepped close, suddenly intent. ‘During the battle?’

  Udinaas nodded. ‘She was in bad shape, but alive. She’d found a worthy escort of her own—I have no doubt she still lives.’

  ‘An escort of her own? Who?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Foreigners. One of them killed Rhulad and his chosen brothers.’ Udinaas collected another stone. ‘Look at that, Hull Beddict, a river of gold. Flowing into the sunset.’ He flung the stone, broke the mirrored perfection. Momentarily.

  ‘You witnessed that killing.’

  ‘I did. Whoever that foreigner was, he was terrifying.’

  ‘More terrifying than Rhulad’s return?’

  Udinaas said nothing for a time, then he stepped away, down to the water’s edge. He stared into the shallows, saw the muddy bottom swarming with newborn eels. ‘Do you know what is coming, Hull Beddict?’

  ‘No. Do you?’

  ‘Dresh Lake. That’s what’s coming.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter. Don’t mind me, Hull Beddict. Well. I’d best return. The emperor is awake.’

  Hull followed him up from the strand. ‘Things like that,’ he said. ‘He’s awake. How do you know?’

  ‘A stirring in the shadows,’ Udinaas said. ‘Rhulad sets the world to a tremble. Well,’ he amended, ‘a small part of it. But it’s growing. In any case, his fever has broken. He is weak, but alert.’

  ‘Tell me,’ Hull said as they walked into the vast camp, ‘about Feather Witch.’

  Udinaas grimaced. ‘Why?’

  ‘She is no longer Mayen’s slave. She now serves the Edur healers. Was that your work?’

  ‘The emperor’s command, Hull Beddict.’

  ‘You claim no influence on him? Few would believe that now.’

  ‘Reciprocity.’

  ‘And in return, you give Rhulad what?’

  Friendship. ‘I do not advise him, Hull Beddict. I do not seek to influence him. I cannot answer your question.’ Rather, I won’t.

  ‘She affects to hold only hatred for you, Udinaas. But I am not convinced.’

  ‘Oh, I am.’

  ‘I think, perhaps, she has given her heart to you. Yet would fight it, for all the pointless prohibitions and prejudices of our people. What is the extent of your debt, Udinaas?’

  ‘My debt? My father’s debt. Seven hundred and twenty-two docks, from the day I was taken as a slave.’

  Hull reached out and stopped him. ‘That’s it?’

  ‘A Beddict might well say that. For most Letherii, that is insurmountable. Especially given the interest.’ Udinaas resumed walking.

  Hull came up alongside him. ‘Who holds it?’

  ‘A minor lender in Letheras. Why are you asking?’

  ‘The lender’s name?’

  ‘Huldo.’

  ‘Huldo.’ After a moment, Hull snorted.

  ‘You find that amusing?’

  ‘I do. Udinaas, my brother Tehol owns Huldo.’

  ‘Maybe once. As I understand it, Tehol owns nothing these days.’

  ‘Let me tell you a story about my brother. He was, I guess, around ten years old, when a family debt was purchased by a particularly unscrupulous lender. The plan was to force us to relinquish a certain holding, and so the debt was called. We couldn’t pay, not all at once, and of course the lender knew it. Now, it was at the time assumed by all that Tehol was at school every day during this crisis, and indeed, that, young as he was
, he had no idea of the trouble our parents were in. Only much later did certain facts come to light. The fact that Tehol had finessed a debt of his own, over his tutor. Nothing large, but he was able to coerce the tutor into saying nothing about his absences, whilst he operated a business venture of his own down at a flow-out on the river. Two employees, both Nerek, sifting sewage. This particular out-flow issued from an estate district—extraordinary what treasures could be recovered. Jewellery, mostly. Rings, earrings, pearls. In any case, it seemed there was a windfall, a necklace, and the result was Tehol and his two Nerek employees found themselves suddenly flush—’

  ‘By selling the necklace?’

  ‘Oh no, from the reward. Their business was returning lost items. Shortly thereafter, the lender pressuring our family received payment in full on our debt, and was then subsequently financially gutted when a host of holdings on him were called.’

  Udinaas grunted. ‘Grateful patrons, indeed.’

  ‘Probably. We never found out. And Tehol never explained a damned thing. It took me over a year to piece some of it together. My point is, Udinaas, Tehol’s genius is of the diabolical kind. Destitute? Not a chance. Retired from business dealings? Impossible. I am now quite skilled at tracking my brother, you see. Huldo’s not the only lender Tehol owns.’

  ‘So,’ Udinaas said as they approached the emperor’s tent, ‘I am Indebted to the Beddicts.’

  ‘Not any more,’ Hull said. ‘I am clearing it. Right now. I am sure Tehol will forgive me, assuming I ever get a chance to corner him.’

  Udinaas looked over at the man. Then he nodded. ‘I see. Reciprocity.’

  ‘I am without expectation, Udinaas.’

  ‘Good. I knew you were a fast learner.’

  Hull Beddict halted outside the entrance. ‘I enjoyed speaking to you,’ he said.

  Udinaas hesitated, then smiled.

  Seated on his throne, sweat streaming down between and over the gold coins on his face, neck and chest, some horrible insight burning in his eyes, the emperor trembled as if rabid. ‘Udinaas,’ he croaked. ‘As you can see, we are well.’

  ‘These southlands, Emperor, hold strange diseases—’