The Complete Malazan Book of the Fallen

by Steven Erikson

  ‘Atri-Preda,’ Brohl Handar interrupted in turn, ‘my warriors faced crack Letherii soldiers in the conquest, and it was your Letherii who broke. Seals? Indeed, some of them weighing as much as an ox, with tusks longer than a shortsword. And white-furred bears, and cave-dwelling bears. Short-legged wolves and pack wolves. And, one should not forget, Jheck shape-shifters. Did you imagine the white wastes of the north are empty lands? Against what an Arapay must face every day, the Letherii were no great threat. As for protecting me from the Awl, presumably such a need would only arise following the rout of your forces. We shall have a K’risnan of the Den-Ratha, as well as your mage cadre. In short,’ he concluded, ‘your concerns ring false. Tell me, Atri-Preda, what was the substance of your secret meeting with Factor Letur Anict?’

  The question, voiced as an afterthought, seemed to strike her like a blow, and the eyes she fixed on him were wide, alarmed, until something darker swirled to life. ‘Financial discussions, Overseer,’ she said in a cold tone. ‘An army needs to eat.’

  ‘The financing of this punitive expedition is provided by the Imperial Treasury.’

  ‘Said funds managed by the Factor. After all, that is the function of being a factor, sir.’

  ‘Not in this instance,’ Brohl Handar replied. ‘Disbursement is being managed by my office. In fact, it is Edur coin that is sponsoring this expedition. Atri-Preda, you should in the future be certain of the facts before you contrive to lie. Now, it would seem that you are to proceed under the burden of two sets of orders. I do hope for the sake of your peace of mind that the two do not prove conflicting.’

  ‘I should imagine not,’ she said tightly.

  ‘Are you confident of that, Atri-Preda?’

  ‘I am, sir.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Overseer, a number of the settlers killed originated from within the Factor’s own household.’

  Brohl’s brows lifted. ‘The desire for a most bloody vengeance must be overwhelming, then, for poor Letur Anict.’

  ‘At that meeting, sir, I simply reiterated my intent to exact the necessary punishment against the murderers. The Factor sought reassurance, which I was pleased to give him under the circumstances.’

  ‘In other words, Letur Anict was somewhat alarmed that his control over the management of the expedition had been taken away, for such a decision was unprecedented. One must assume he is intelligent enough to recognize – once he has calmed down somewhat – that the move indicates disapproval of his recent excesses.’

  ‘I would not know, sir.’

  ‘I shall be interested to gauge his humility upon our triumphant return, Atri-Preda.’

  She said nothing.

  Of course, he added to himself, there would probably be much more to Letur Anict’s response at that time, given that there was, in fact, nothing truly official in any of this. The Factor’s cronies in the palace – the Letherii servants of, it was likely, the Chancellor – would be outraged upon discovering this circumvention; but this time it was the Edur who had organized this minor usurpation, a working of the tribes, the linkage established via the K’risnan and the Edur staffs of various overseers. There was vast risk in all this – the Emperor himself knew nothing of it, after all.

  Letur Anict needed to be reined in. No, more than that, the man needed hobbling. Permanently. If Brohl had his way, there would be a new Factor of Drene within a year, and as for Letur Anict’s holdings, well, the crime for high treason and corruption at the scale he had managed would without doubt result in their confiscation, with all familial rights stripped away, and restitution at such high level that the Anict line would be Indebted for generations to come.

  He is corrupt. And he has spun a deadly web here, from Drene out into every bordering nation. He seeks war with all of our neighbours. Unnecessary war. Pointless beyond the covetous greed of one man. Such corruption needed excision, for there were plenty of Letur Anicts in this empire, thriving under the protection of the Liberty Consign and, quite possibly, the Patriotists. This man here would be the example and the warning.

  You Letherii think us fools. You laugh behind our backs. Mock us in our ignorance of your sophisticated deceptions. Well, there is more than one kind of sophistication, as you shall discover.

  Finally, Brohl Handar no longer felt helpless.

  Atri-Preda Bivatt fumed in silence. The damned fool at her side was going to get himself killed, and she would be made responsible for that failure to protect him. K’risnan and Arapay bodyguards would achieve nothing. The Factor’s agents infected every Letherii legion on this march, and among those agents…Errant-damned assassins. Masters of the Poison.

  She liked this warrior at her side, dour as he was – which seemed a trait of the Tiste Edur in any case. And though clearly intelligent, he was also…naive.

  It was clear that Letur Anict had penetrated the pathetic unofficial efforts of Brohl Handar and a half-dozen other overseers, and the Factor intended to eliminate this nascent threat here and now. On this very expedition.

  ‘We have a problem with Brohl Handar,’ the Factor had said, his pale round face looking like dusty stone in the habitual gloom of his inner sanctum.

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘Unsanctioned, he seeks to exceed his responsibilities, and in so doing undermine the traditional functions of a factor in a border province. His ambitions have drawn others into his web, which could, alas, have fatal repercussions.’

  ‘Fatal? How?’

  ‘Atri-Preda, I must tell you. No longer are the Patriotists focusing exclusively on the Letherii in the empire. There has come to light evidence of an emerging conspiracy among the Tiste Edur – against the state, possibly against the Emperor himself.’

  Absurd. Do you truly take me for such a fool, Anict? Against the state and against the Emperor are two different things. The state is you and people like you. The state is the Liberty Consign and the Patriotists. The state is the Chancellor and his cronies. Against them, the notion of a conspiracy among the Tiste Edur to rid the empire of Letherii corruption seemed more than plausible. They had been occupiers long enough to come to understand the empire they had won; to begin to realize that a far more subtle conquest had taken place, of which they were the losers.

  The Tiste Edur were, above all else, a proud people. Not likely to abide defeat, and the fact that the victors were, by their measure, cowards in the true sense of the term would sting all the more. So she was not surprised that Brohl Handar and his fellow Edur had at last begun a campaign of eradication against the Letherii running the state. Not surprising, either, the extent to which the Edur have underestimated their enemy.

  ‘Sir, I am an officer in the Imperial Army. My commander is the Emperor himself.’

  ‘The Emperor rules us all, Atri-Preda,’ Letur Anict had said with a faint smile. ‘The conspiracy among his kind directly threatens his loyal support structure – those who endeavour, at great personal sacrifice, to maintain that apparatus.’

  ‘People such as yourself.’

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘What are you asking of me, sir?’

  ‘Brohl Handar will insist on accompanying your punitive expedition. I believe it is his intent to claim territories reconquered for himself’ – a wave of one hand – ‘no doubt in the name of the empire or some such meaningless nonsense.’

  You mean, as you have done?

  ‘I will try to talk him out of it,’ she said. ‘It’s not safe—’

  ‘Indeed it isn’t. Precisely my point.’ After a moment, Letur Anict leaned back. ‘You will, alas, not win your argument. The Overseer will march with you, accepting the risks.’

  The risks, yes. Imagining they come from the Awl.

  ‘I will do all I can to preserve his life,’ Bivatt said.

  A spread of hands. ‘Of course. That is your duty, and we both know how treacherous the Awl can be, especially as they are now commanded by none other than Redmask. Who can say what dread ambushes he has contrived to spring upon you,
with the principal aim of murdering commanders and other important personages. Indeed, Atri-Preda, you have your duty and I would expect no less from you. But I do remind you, Brohl Handar is engaged in treason.’

  ‘Then have Orbyn Truthfinder arrest him.’ If he dares, for that will bring it all out into the open, and you’re not ready for that.

  ‘We will,’ the Factor then said, ‘be prepared for his return.’

  So soon? ‘Has the Emperor been informed of these developments, sir?’

  ‘He has. The Patriotists would not be engaged in this hunt were it not so – I am sure you understand that, Atri-Preda.’

  She believed she did. Even Karos Invictad would not proceed without some sort of sanction. ‘Is that all, sir?’

  ‘It is. Errant smile on your hunt, Atri-Preda.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  And now, everything had proceeded to match the Factor’s predictions. Brohl Handar would accompany the expedition, refuting her every argument against the idea. Reading his expression, she saw a renewed confidence and will – the Overseer felt as if he had found, at last, firm footing. No error in his recognition of his true enemy. The unmitigated disaster lay in the Edur’s belief that he had made the first move.

  She said now to the Overseer, ‘Sir, if you will excuse me. I must have words with my officers.’

  ‘Of course,’ Brohl Handar replied. ‘When do you anticipate contacting the enemy?’

  Oh, you fool, you already have. ‘That depends, sir, on whether they’re fleeing, or coming straight for us.’

  The Overseer’s brows lifted. ‘Do you fear this Redmask?’

  ‘Fear that yields respect is not a bad thing, sir. In that fashion, yes, I fear Redmask. As he will me, before too long.’

  She rode away then, down to her troops, seeking out, not an officer, but one man in particular, a horseman among the Bluerose, taller and duskier than most.

  After a time she found him, gestured him to ride out to her side, and they walked their horses along one edge of the road. She spoke of two things, one loud enough to be heard by others and concerning the health of the mounts and other such mundane details; the other in much quieter tones, which no-one but the man could hear.

  ‘What can you see of the horizon’s bruised smear, that cannot be blotted out by a raised hand?’

  Redmask glanced over at the foreigner.

  Anaster Toc smiled. ‘Lying in a ditch amidst the wastes of humanity is something I would recommend to any nascent poet. The rhythms of ebb and flow, the legacy of what we discard. Wealth like liquid gold.’

  Not entirely sane any more, Redmask judged, unsurprised. Skin and bones, scabbed and stained with fiery, peeling rashes. At least he could now stand without the aid of a stick, and his appetite had returned. Before long, Redmask believed, the foreigner would recover, at least physically. The poor man’s mind was another matter.

  ‘Your people,’ Anaster Toc continued after a moment, ‘do not believe in poetry, in the power of simple words. Oh, you sing with the coming of dawn and the fleeing sun. You sing to storm clouds and wolf tracks and shed antlers you find in the grass. You sing to decide the order of beads on a thread. But no words to any of them. Just tonal variations, as senseless as birdsong—’

  ‘Birds sing,’ cut in Natarkas who stood on the foreigner’s other side, squinting westward to the dying sun, ‘to tell others they exist. They sing to warn of hunters. They sing to woo mates. They sing in the days before they die.’

  ‘Very well, the wrong example. You sing like whales—’

  ‘Like what?’ asked Natarkas and two other copper-faces behind them.

  ‘Oh, never mind, then. My point was, you sing without words—’

  ‘Music is its own language.’

  ‘Natarkas,’ said Anaster Toc, ‘answer me this, if you will. The song the children use when they slip beads onto a thread, what does it mean?’

  ‘There is more than one, depending on the pattern desired. The song sets the order of the type of bead, and its colour.’

  ‘Why do such things have to be set?’

  ‘Because the beads tell a story.’

  ‘What story?’

  ‘Different stories, depending on the pattern, which is assured by the song. The story is not lost, not corrupted, because the song never changes.’

  ‘For Hood’s sake,’ the foreigner muttered. ‘What’s wrong with words?’

  ‘With words,’ said Redmask, turning away, ‘meanings change.’

  ‘Well,’ Anaster Toc said, following as Redmask made his way back to his army’s camp, ‘that is precisely the point. That’s their value – their ability to adapt—’

  ‘Grow corrupt, you mean. The Letherii are masters at corrupting words, their meanings. They call war peace, they call tyranny liberty. On which side of the shadow you stand decides a word’s meaning. Words are the weapons used by those who see others with contempt. A contempt which only deepens when they see how those others are deceived and made into fools because they chose to believe. Because in their naivety they thought the meaning of a word was fixed, immune to abuse.’

  ‘Togg’s teats, Redmask, that’s a long speech coming from you.’

  ‘I hold words in contempt, Anaster Toc. What do you mean when you say “Togg’s teats”?’

  ‘Togg’s a god.’

  ‘Not a goddess?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then its teats are—’

  ‘Useless. Precisely.’

  ‘What of the others? “Hood’s Breath”?’

  ‘Hood is the Lord of Death.’

  ‘Thus…no breath.’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘Beru’s mercy?’

  ‘She has no mercy.’

  ‘Mowri fend?’

  ‘The Lady of the Poor fends off nothing.’

  Redmask regarded the foreigner. ‘Your people have a strange relationship with your gods.’

  ‘I suppose we do. Some decry it as cynical and they may have a point. It’s all to do with power, Redmask, and what it does to those who possess it. Gods not excepted.’

  ‘If they are so unhelpful, why do you worship them?’

  ‘Imagine how much more unhelpful they’d be if we didn’t.’ At whatever Anaster Toc saw in Redmask’s eyes, he then laughed.

  Annoyed, Redmask said, ‘You fought as an army devoted to the Lord and Lady of the Wolves.’

  ‘And see where it got us.’

  ‘The reason your force was slaughtered is because my people betrayed you. Such betrayal did not come from your wolf gods.’

  ‘True, I suppose. We accepted the contract. We assumed we shared the meaning of the words we had exchanged with our employers—’ At that he offered Redmask a wry smile. ‘We marched to war believing in honour. So. Togg and Fanderay are not responsible – especially for the stupidity of their followers.’

  ‘Are you now godless, Anaster Toc?’

  ‘Oh, I heard their sorrowful howls every now and then, or at least I imagined I did.’

  ‘Wolves came to the place of slaughter and took the hearts of the fallen.’

  ‘What? What do you mean?’

  ‘They broke open the chests of your comrades and ate their hearts, leaving everything else.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t know that.’

  ‘Why did you not die with them?’ Redmask asked. ‘Did you flee?’

  ‘I was the best rider among the Grey Swords. Accordingly, I was acting to maintain contact between our forces. I was, unfortunately, with the Awl when the decision was made to flee. They dragged me down from my horse and beat me senseless. I don’t know why they didn’t kill me there and then. Or just leave me for the Letherii.’

  ‘There are levels to betrayal, Anaster Toc; limits to what even the Awl can stomach. They could run from the battle, but they could not draw a blade across your throat.’

  ‘Well, that’s a comforting relief. Apologies. I have always been prone to facetious commentary. I suppose I should be thankful, b
ut I’m not.’

  ‘Of course you’re not,’ Redmask said. They were approaching the broad hide awning protecting the rodara-skin maps the war leader had drawn – mostly from what he could recall of Letherii military maps he had seen. These new maps had been stretched out on the ground, pegged down, arrayed like pieces of a puzzle to create a single rendition of a vast area – one that included the south border kingdoms. ‘But you are a soldier, Anaster Toc, and I have need of soldiers.’

  ‘So, you seek an agreement between us.’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘A binding of words.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And what if I choose to leave? To walk away?’

  ‘You will be permitted and given a horse and supplies. You may ride east or southeast or indeed north, although there is nothing to be found to the north. But not west, not southwest.’

  ‘Not to the Lether Empire, in other words.’

  ‘Correct. I do not know what vengeance you hold close to your wounded soul. I do not know if you would betray the Awl – to answer their betrayal of you. For which I would not blame you in the least. I have no desire to have to kill you and this is why I forbid you to ride to Lether.’

  ‘I see.’

  Redmask studied the map in the crepuscular light. The black lines seemed to be fading into oblivion before him. ‘It is my thought, however, to appeal to your desire for vengeance against the Letherii.’

  ‘Rather than the Awl.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You believe you can defeat them.’

  ‘I shall, Anaster Toc.’

  ‘By preparing fields of battle well in advance. Well, as a tactic I would not gainsay it. Assuming the Letherii are foolish enough to position themselves precisely where you want them.’

  ‘They are arrogant,’ Redmask said. ‘Besides, they have no choice. They wish to avenge the slaughter of settlements and the theft of herds they call their property – even though they stole them from us. They wish to punish us, and so will be eager to cross blades.’

  ‘Using cavalry, infantry, archers and mages.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How do you intend to negate those mages, Redmask?’