‘Do not bait him,’ Seren Pedac said to the slave. ‘Rhulad is accursed. By the sword in his hand, by the god who made that sword.’
‘Rhulad was young,’ Fear said, unconsciously wringing his hands as he stared at the chamber’s worn floor. ‘There was so much still to teach him. He sought to become a great warrior, a heroic warrior. He was discomfited in the shadows of his three older brothers, and this made him precipitate.’
‘I think the god chose him…over Hannan Mosag,’ said Udinaas. ‘Rhulad had no choice.’
Fear studied Udinaas for a long moment, then he nodded. ‘If that is your belief, then you are far more generous towards Rhulad than any Tiste Edur. Again and again, Udinaas, you leave me unbalanced.’
Udinaas closed his eyes as he leaned back against the rough wall. ‘He spoke to me, Fear, because I listened. Something the rest of you never bothered doing – which isn’t that surprising, since your vaunted family order had just been shattered. Your precious hierarchy was in disarray. Shocking. Terrible. So, while he could not speak to you, you in turn were unwilling to hear him. He was silent and you were deaf to that silence. A typical mess – I don’t regret having no family.’
‘You lay all the blame at the foot of the chaotic god.’
Udinaas opened his eyes, blinked for a moment, then smiled. ‘Too convenient by far. Now, if I was seeking redemption, I’d leap on the back of that one, and ride the beast all the way – to the cliff’s edge, then right over, amen.’
‘Then…what?’
‘What to blame? Well, how should I know? I’m just a worn-out slave. But if I had to guess, I’d look first at that rigid hierarchy I mentioned earlier. It traps everyone, and everyone makes sure it traps everyone else. Until none of you can move, not side to side, not up either. You can move down, of course – just do something no-one else likes. Disapproval kicks out every rung of the ladder, and down you go.’
‘So it is the way of living among the Tiste Edur.’ Fear snorted, looked away.
‘All right,’ Udinaas said, sighing, ‘let me ask you this. Why wasn’t that sword offered to some Letherii – a brilliant officer of an army, a cold-blooded merchant prince? Why not Ezgara himself? Or better still, his son, Quillas? Now there was ambition and stupidity in perfect balance. And if not a Letherii, then why not a Nerek shaman? Or a Fent or a Tarthenal? Of course, all those others, well, those tribes were mostly obliterated – at least, all the taboos, traditions and rules of every sort that kept people in line – all gone, thanks to the Letherii.’
‘Very well,’ Seren Pedac said, ‘why not a Letherii?’
Udinaas shrugged. ‘The wrong fatal flaws, obviously. The Chained One recognized the absolute perfection of the Tiste Edur – their politics, their history, their culture and their political situation.’
‘Now I understand,’ Fear murmured, his arms crossed.
‘Understand what?’
‘Why Rhulad so valued you, Udinaas. You were wasted scraping fish scales all day when by the measure of your intelligence and your vision, you could sit tall on any kingdom’s throne.’
The slave’s grin was hard with malice. ‘Damn you, Fear Sengar.’
‘How did that offend you?’
‘You just stated the central argument – both for and against the institution of slavery. I was wasted, was I? Or of necessity kept under firm heel. Too many people like me on the loose and no ruler, tyrant or otherwise, could sit assured on a throne. We would stir things up, again and again. We would challenge, we would protest, we would defy. By being enlightened, we would cause utter mayhem. So, Fear, kick another basket of fish over here, it’s better for everyone.’
‘Except you.’
‘No, even me. This way, all my brilliance remains ineffectual, harmless to anyone and therefore especially to myself, lest my lofty ideas loose a torrent of blood.’
Seren Pedac grunted, ‘You are frightened by your own ideas, Udinaas?’
‘All the time, Acquitor. Aren’t you?’
She said nothing.
‘Listen,’ Fear said. ‘The chanting has stopped.’
As usual, the debate ended with everyone losing. The clash of intractable views produced no harmony, just exhaustion and an ache in the back of the skull. Clip, seated with his legs propped up on the back of the next lower bench, in the gloom of the uppermost tier overlooking the absurdly named Disc of Concordance on which stood five glowering Onyx Wizards, struggled to awaken his mind as the wizards turned as one to face Silchas Ruin.
Ordant Brid, Reve of the Rock, who had sent Clip to retrieve these fell wanderers, was the first to speak. ‘Silchas Ruin, brother of blood to our Black-Winged Lord, we know what you seek.’
‘Then you also know not to get in my way.’
At these cold words, Clip sat straighter.
‘It is as I warned!’ cried Rin Varalath, Reve of the Night, in his high-pitched, grating voice. ‘He arrives like a leviathan of destruction! Which of the brothers was gifted the greater share of deliberation and wisdom? Well, the answer is clear!’
‘Calm down,’ said Penith Vinandas.
Clip smiled to himself, wondering yet again if the Reve aspects created the personalities of their masters – or, in the case of Penith, mistress – or was it the other way round? Of course the Mistress of the Root would advise calm, a settling of wild wills, for she was so assuredly…rooted.
‘I am calm!’ snarled Rin Varalath. He jabbed a finger at Silchas Ruin. ‘We must not yield to this one, else all that we have achieved will be brought down upon our very heads. The balance is all that keeps us alive, and each of you knows that. And if you do not, then you are more lost than I ever imagined.’
Draxos Hulch, Reve of the Dark Water, spoke in his depthless baritone. ‘The issue, my fellow wizards, is less open to debate than you would hope. Unless, of course, we can explain to this warrior the nature of our struggle and the uneasy balance we have but recently won.’
‘Why should he be interested?’ Rin Varalath asked. ‘If this all collapses it is nothing to him. He will move on, uncaring – our deaths will be meaningless as far as he is concerned.’
Silchas Ruin sighed. ‘I am not insensitive to the battle you have waged here, wizards. But your success is due entirely to the inevitable disintegration of the Jaghut’s ritual.’ He scanned the faces before him. ‘You are no match for Omtose Phellack, when its wielder was none other than Gothos. In any case, the balance you believe you have achieved is illusory. The ritual fails. Ice, which had been held in check, held timeless, has begun to move once more. It falters in the warmth of this age, yet its volume is so vast that, even melted, it will effect vast change. As for the glaciers bound in the highest reaches of the mountains of Bluerose – those to the north – well, they have already begun their migration. Unmindful of the distant ocean’s assault, they draw power from a wayward flow of cold air. These glaciers, wizards, still hold the spear of the ritual, and soon it will drive for your heart. The Andara is doomed.’
‘We care nothing for the Andara,’ said Gestallin Aros, Reve of the Air. ‘The balance you speak of is not the one that matters to us. Silchas Ruin, the Jaghut’s ritual was of ice only in the manner that fire is of wood – it was the means of achieving a specific goal, and that goal was the freezing in place of time. Of life, and of death.’
Clip’s gaze narrowed on Silchas Ruin, as the albino Andii slowly cocked his head, then said, ‘You speak of a different failing, yet the two are linked—’
‘We are aware of that,’ cut in Ordant Brid. Then, with a faint smile, ‘Perhaps more so than you. You speak of a spear of ice, of Omtose Phellack’s very core, still living, still powerful. That spear, Silchas Ruin, casts a shadow, and it is within that shadow that you will find what you seek. Although not, I think, in the way you desire.’
‘Explain.’
‘We will not,’ snapped Rin Varalath. ‘If you wish to understand, then look to your kin.’
‘My kin? Are you then able to summon
Anomander?’
‘Not him,’ replied Ordant Brid. He hesitated, then continued. ‘We were visited, not so long ago, by an ascendant. Menandore. Sister Dawn—’
If anything, Ruin’s voice grew even colder as he demanded, ‘What has she to do with this?’
‘Balance, you ignorant fool!’ Rin Varalath’s shriek echoed in the chamber.
‘Where is she now?’ Silchas Ruin asked.
‘Alas,’ replied Draxos Hulch, ‘we do not know. But she is close, for reasons that are entirely her own. She will, I fear, oppose you, should you decide to force your way past us.’
‘I seek the soul of Scabandari Bloodeye. I do not understand that you would object to such a goal.’
‘We see the truth of that,’ said Ordant Brid.
A long moment of silence. The five Onyx Wizards faced a nonplussed Silchas Ruin, who seemed at a loss for words.
‘It is,’ said Penith Vinandas, ‘a question of…compassion.’
‘We are not fools,’ said Ordant Brid. ‘We cannot oppose you. Perhaps, however, we can guide you. The journey to the place you seek is arduous – the path is not straight. Silchas Ruin, it is with some astonishment that I tell you that we have reached something of a consensus on this. You have no idea how rare such a thing is – granted, I speak of a compromise, one which sits uneasier with some of us than with others. Nonetheless, we have agreed to offer you a guide.’
‘A guide? To lead me on this crooked path, or tug me ever astray from it?’
‘Such deceit would not work for very long.’
‘True; nor would I be merciful upon its discovery.’
‘Of course.’
Silchas Ruin crossed his arms. ‘You will provide us with a guide. Very well. Which of you has volunteered?’
‘Why, none of us,’ said Ordant Brid. ‘The need for us here prevents such a thing. As you said, a spear of ice is directed at us, and while we cannot shatter it, perhaps we can…redirect it. Silchas Ruin, your guide shall be the Mortal Sword of the Black-Winged Lord.’ At that, the wizard gestured.
Clip rose to his feet, then began his descent to the Disc of Concordance. The chain and its rings appeared in his hand, whirring, then snapping, then whirring out again.
‘He is Anomander’s Mortal Sword?’ Silchas Ruin asked in obvious disbelief as he stared up at this meeting’s audience of one.
Clip smiled. ‘Do you think he would be displeased?’
After a moment, the brother of Rake grimaced, then shook his head. ‘Probably not.’
‘Come the morrow,’ Ordant Brid said, ‘we will begin preparing the way for the continuation of your journey.’
Reaching the edge of the lowest tier, Clip dropped lightly onto the polished stone of the Disc, then approached Silchas Ruin, the chain in his hand spinning and clacking.
‘Must you always do that?’ Silchas Ruin demanded.
‘Do what?’
Silchas Ruin walked into the chamber, followed a moment later by the Tiste Andii, Clip.
Seren Pedac felt a sudden chill, although she could not determine its source. Clip was smiling, but it was a cynical smile, and it seemed his eyes held steady on Fear Sengar, as if awaiting some kind of challenge.
‘Acquitor,’ said Silchas Ruin, releasing the clasp of his cloak as he walked over to the stone table against a far wall, where waited wine and food, ‘at least one mystery has been answered.’
‘Oh?’
‘The preponderance of wraiths here in the Andara, the countless ghosts of dead Tiste Andii – I know why they are here.’
‘I am sorry, I did not know this place was crowded with wraiths. I’ve not even seen Wither lately.’
He glanced across at her, then poured himself a goblet of wine. ‘It is extraordinary,’ he murmured, ‘how something as basic as the absence of a taste on the tongue can prove the most excruciating torture…when one is buried for thousands of years.’
She watched him take a mouthful of the watery wine, watched him savour it. Then he said, ‘Time, Acquitor. The Omtose Phellack ritual, which froze all in place, defied Hood himself – apologies, Hood is the Lord of Death. The ghosts – they had nowhere to go. Easily captured and enslaved by the Tiste Edur, but many others managed to evade that fate, and they are here, among their mortal kin. The Onyx Wizards speak of compassion and balance, you see…’
No, I do not, but I think that is of no matter. ‘Will the wizards help us?’
A wry grimace from Silchas Ruin, then he shrugged. ‘Our fell party now has a new member, Acquitor, who is charged with guiding us to what we seek.’
Fear Sengar, suddenly tense, stepped close to Clip. ‘Tiste Andii,’ he said, ‘know this, please. I possess no enmity towards you or your people. If indeed you will lead us to where the soul of Scabandari is bound, I will be in your debt – indeed, all of the Edur will be in your debt.’
Clip grinned. ‘Oh, you don’t want that, warrior.’
Fear seemed taken aback.
‘You,’ said Silchas Ruin to the Tiste Edur, ‘pose the gravest threat to these Andii. Your kind has good reason to hunt down every last one of them; nor are the Letherii well disposed to them, given their resistance to the annexation – a resistance that continues to this day. Bluerose does not appreciate being occupied; nor do the humans who lived in peace alongside those possessing Andii blood in their veins hold any loyalty to the Letherii conquerors. When the Onyx Order ruled, it was a distant sort of rule, reluctant to interfere in daily activities and making few demands on the populace. And now, Fear Sengar, your kind rule the Letherii, compounding the resentment seething in Bluerose.’
‘I cannot speak for the empire,’ Fear said. ‘Only for myself. Yet I believe that, should events transpire in the manner I desire, then true liberation may be the reward granted by the Edur for their assistance – to the entire province of Bluerose and all its inhabitants. Certainly, I would argue for that.’
Clip’s laugh was sardonic.
The chain spun to wrap tight around his right hand, yet that served as his only comment to these grave pronouncements and bold promises.
Seren Pedac felt sick inside. Clip, this maddening pup with his chain and rings, his ever-mocking expression…
Oh, Fear Sengar, do not trust this one. Do not trust him at all.
‘Are you certain you want to do this, Overseer?’
Brohl Handar glanced across at the Atri-Preda. ‘This expedition is to be punitive, Bivatt. No formal proclamation of war has been made – the missive from Letheras is very clear on this. Apparently, it falls under my duties as Overseer to ensure that the engagement does not exceed its parameters. You march to hunt down and destroy those who slaughtered the settlers.’
Her eyes remained on the columns of Letherii and Edur troops marching along the road. Dust hung in the air, staining the sky’s bright blue. The sound from the army reminded Brohl Handar of broken ice groaning and crunching its way down a river. Bivatt spoke. ‘That is precisely my intention, Overseer. That and nothing more, as I have been commanded.’
He studied her for a moment longer, then shifted on the saddle to ease the strain on his lower back – he preferred admiring horses from afar to perching atop the damned things. It seemed they understood his distaste and reciprocated in kind, and this one was in the habit of tossing its head as it drew up from every canter, clearly seeking to crack Brohl’s chin. The Atri-Preda told him he leaned too far forward, and the horse knew it and saw the error as an opportunity to inflict damage. The Tiste Edur was not looking forward to this journey. ‘Nonetheless,’ he finally said, ‘I will accompany you.’
He knew she was unhappy with the prospect. Yet he had his own bodyguards, from his own tribe. His own carriage and driver and team of oxen. More than enough supplies to ensure they were not a burden on the military train.
‘I remain concerned for your safety,’ she said.
‘No need. I have every confidence in my Arapay—’
‘Forgive me, Overseer, but hunting seals i
s not the same as—’
‘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.’
The Malazan Empire Page 602