The woman studied him for a moment, then it seemed she reached a decision. ‘Fist Keneb, the Empress awaits me in Mock’s Hold. I expect she will not wait until morning to issue her summons.’ A flicker of emotion in her face. ‘The soldiers of the Fourteenth Army do not return as heroes, it would appear. I will not expose their lives to unnecessary risks. In particular I speak of the Wickans and the Khundryl Burned Tears. As for the Perish, the nature of their alliance depends upon my conversation with the Empress. Unless circumstances warrant a change, I assume their disposition rests with Laseen, but I must await her word on that. Ultimately, Fist, it is for Mortal Sword Krughava – do the Perish disembark and present to the Empress as they did with us, or, if events turn unfortunate, do they leave? My point is this, Keneb, they must be free to choose.’
‘And Admiral Nok’s view on that?’
‘We are agreed.’
‘Adjunct,’ said Keneb, ‘if the Empress decides to attempt to stay the Perish, we could end up with a battle in Malaz Harbour. Malazan against Malazan. This could start a damned civil war.’
Tavore frowned. ‘I do not anticipate anything so extreme, Fist.’
But Keneb persisted. ‘Forgive me, but I believe it is you who misunderstands. The Perish swore service to you, not the Empress.’
‘She will not listen to that,’ T’amber said, with an unexpected tone of frustration in her voice, even as she walked to where Bottle slept. A kick elicted a grunt, then a cough. ‘Up, soldier,’ T’amber said, seemingly unmindful of the glare the Adjunct had fixed upon her.
No you fool, Keneb, hardly unmindful.
‘You have your orders, Fist,’ Tavore said.
‘Aye, Adjunct. Do you wish me to drag this marine here out with me?’
‘No. I must speak with Bottle in private. Go now, Keneb. And thank you for attending this night.’
I’m fairly certain I had no choice. At the doorway he looked back once more at the cards. Lord of Wolves, Spinner of Death, Queens of Dark and Life, and the King in Chains. Lord of Wolves… that has to be the Perish.
Gods below, I think it’s begun.
On the harbour-facing wall of Mock’s Hold, Pearl stood at the parapet, watching the dark shapes of the imperial fleet slowly swing round into the calm waters of the bay. Huge transports, like oversized bhederin, and the dromon escorts on the flanks lean as wolves. The Claw’s eyes narrowed as he attempted to make out the foreign ships in the midst of the others. Enormous, twin-hulled… formidable. There seemed to be a lot of them.
How had they come here so quickly? And how did the Empress know that they would? The only possibility in answer to the first question was: by warren. Yet, who among the Adjunct’s retinue could fashion a gate of such power and breadth? Quick Ben? Pearl did not think that likely. That bastard liked his secrets, and he liked playing both a weakling and something considerably deadlier, but neither conceit impressed Pearl. No, Tavore’s High Mage didn’t have what was necessary to open such a massive rift.
Leaving those damned foreigners. And that was very troubling indeed. Perhaps it might prove a propitious moment for some kind of pre-emptive, covert action. Which would, now that the Empress had arrived, be possible after all. And expedient – for we have no idea who has now come among us, right to the heart of the empire. A foreign navy, arriving virtually unopposed… within striking distance of the Empress herself.
It was going to be a busy night.
‘Pearl.’
The voice was low, yet he did not need to turn round to know who had spoken. He knew, as well, that Empress Laseen would frown disapprovingly should he turn to face her. Odd habits, that way. No, just paranoia. ‘Good evening, Empress.’
‘Does this view please you?’
Pearl grimaced. ‘She has arrived. In all, well timed for everyone concerned.’
‘Do you look forward to seeing her again?’
‘I travelled in her company for some time, Empress.’
‘And?’
‘And, to answer your question, I am… indifferent.’
‘My Adjunct does not inspire loyalty?’
‘Not with me, Empress. Nor, I think, with the soldiers of the Fourteenth Army.’
‘And yet, Pearl, has she failed them? Even once?’
‘Y’Ghatan—’
The seemingly disembodied voice interrupted him. ‘Do not be a fool. This is you and I, Pearl, speaking here. In absolute private. What occurred at Y’Ghatan could not have been anticipated, by anyone. Given that, Adjunct Tavore’s actions were proper and, indeed, laudable.’
‘Very well,’ Pearl said, remembering that night of flames… the distant screams he could hear from inside his tent – when in my anger and hurt, I hid, like some child. ‘Facts aside, Empress, the matter hinges upon how one is perceived.’
‘Assuredly so.’
‘Adjunct Tavore rarely emerges from an event – no matter how benign or fortuitous – untarnished. And no, I do not understand why this should be so.’
‘The legacy of Coltaine.’
Pearl nodded in the darkness. Then, he frowned. Ah, Empress, now I see… ‘And so, the dead hero is… unmanned. His name becomes a curse. His deeds, a lie.’ No, damn you, I was close enough to know otherwise. No. ‘Empress, it will not work.’
‘Will it not?’
‘No. Instead, we all are tainted. Faith and loyalty vanish. All that gifts us with pride becomes stained. The Malazan Empire ceases to have heroes, and without heroes, Empress, we will self-destruct.’
‘You lack faith, Pearl.’
‘In what, precisely?’
‘The resilience of a civilization.’
‘The faith you suggest seems more a wilful denial, Empress. Refusing to acknowledge the symptoms because it’s easier that way. Complacency serves nothing but dissolution.’
‘I may be many things,’ Laseen said, ‘but complacent is not one of them.’
‘Forgive me, Empress, I did not mean to suggest that.’
‘That fleet of catamarans,’ she said after a moment, ‘looks rather ominous. Can you sense the power emanating from it?’
‘Somewhat.’
‘Does it not follow, given their appearance, Pearl, that in allying themselves with Adjunct Tavore, these foreigners perceived in her something we do not? I wonder what it might be.’
‘I cannot imagine their motives, Empress, for I have yet, to meet them.’
‘Do you wish to, Pearl?’
As I anticipated. ‘In truth, those motives are of little interest to me.’
‘It would seem that not much is these days, Pearl. With you.’
And who has made that particular report, Empress? He shrugged, said nothing.
‘The fleet is anchoring in the bay,’ the Empress suddenly said, and she stepped up to stand beside Pearl, her gloved hands resting on the battered stone. ‘There, two ships only, sliding forward to dock. What does she believe, to have issued such orders? And, perhaps more significantly, why has Admiral Nok not countermanded her – the signal flags are lit, after all. There can be no mistaking my command.’
‘Empress,’ said Pearl, ‘there are not enough berths for this fleet in the entire harbour. It may be that the ships will dock in a particular order—’
‘No.’
He fell silent, but he could feel sweat prickling beneath his clothes.
‘Her first move,’ the Empress whispered, and there was something like excitement – or dark satisfaction – in her tone.
A squeal sounded from the weather vane atop the tower behind them, and Pearl shivered. Aye, on a night with no wind… He looked down upon the city, and saw torchlight in the streets. Sparks to tinder, the word of the arrival in the hay races from mouth to mouth, eager as lust. The Wickans have returned, and now the mob gathers… the rage awakens.
Thus, Empress – you need those ships to close, you need the lines drawn fast.
You need the victims to disembark, to bring the flames to a roar.
She turned abo
ut then. ‘Follow me.’
Back along the watch-mount, across the causeway span to the keep itself. Her strides sure, almost eager. Beneath the arched entranceway, between the two cloaked, hooded forms of Claws – he felt their warrens held open, power roiling invisibly from their unseen hands.
A long, poorly lit corridor, the pavestones humped where subsurface settling had occurred, marking where an enormous crack was riven through the entire fortress. One day, this whole damned place will tumble into the bay, and good riddance. Of course, the engineers and mages had assured everyone that such a risk was half a century away, or longer. Too bad.
An intersection, the Empress leading him to the left – oh yes, she was familiar with this place. Where she had, years ago, assassinated the Emperor and Dancer. Assassination. If you could call it that. More like inadvertently aided and abetted. Along another canted corridor, and finally to the doors of a meeting chamber. Where stood two more Claws, the one on the left turning upon sighting them and tugging open the left door, in time for the Empress to pass within without change of pace.
Pearl followed, his steps suddenly slowing as soon as he stepped into the room.
Before him, a long T-shaped table. A tribunal arrangement. He found himself at its intersection. A raised chair marked the head, up the length of the axis, and that modest throne was flanked by figures already seated, although they both rose with Laseen’s arrival.
Mallick Rel.
And Korbolo Dom.
Pearl struggled to keep the disgust from his face. Immediately before him were the backs of three chairs along the horizontal span. He hesitated. ‘Where, Empress,’ he asked, ‘shall I sit?’
Settling into the throne, she regarded him for a moment, then one thin brow rose. ‘Pearl, I do not expect you to be present. After all, you indicated you had no particular interest in seeing the Adjunct again, and so I shall relieve you of that burden.’
‘I see. Then what would you have me do?’
The Jhistal priest on her right cleared his throat, then said, ‘A burdensome but essential mission, Pearl, falls upon you. Organization is required, yes? The dispatch of a Hand, which you will find assembled at the Gate. A solitary killing. A drunkard who frequents Coop’s Hanged Man Inn. His name: Banaschar. Thereafter, you may return to your quarters to await further instruction.’
Pearl’s eyes remained fixed on the Empress, locked with her own, but she gave nothing away, as if daring him to ask what he so longed to: Does a Claw take his orders from a Jhistal priest of Mael now? A man delivered here in chains not so long ago? But, he knew, her silence gave him his answer. He broke his gaze from her and studied Korbolo Dom. The Napan bastard was wearing the regalia of a High Fist. Seeing the man’s smug, contemptuous expression, Pearl’s palms itched. Two knives, my favourite ones, slowly slicing that face away – all of it – gods, never mind that – I could bury a blade in his damned throat right now – maybe I’d be fast enough, maybe not. That’s the problem. The hidden Claw in this room will take me down, of course, but maybe they’re not anticipating… no, don’t be a fool, Pearl. He glanced once more at the Empress and something in her look told him she had comprehended, in full, the desires with which he struggled… and was amused.
Still, he hesitated. Now was the time, he realized, to speak out against this. To seek to convince her that she’d invited two vultures, perched now on each shoulder, and what they hungered for was not the ones who would in a short time be seated before them – no, they wanted the throne they flanked. And they will kill you, Laseen. They will kill you.
‘You may now go,’ Mallick Rel said in a sibilant voice.
‘Empress,’ Pearl forced himself to say, ‘please, consider well Tavore’s words this night. She is your Adjunct, and nothing has changed that. No-one can change that—’
‘Thank you for the advice, Pearl,’ Laseen said.
He opened his mouth to add more, then closed it again. He bowed to his Empress, turned about and strode from the chamber. And so, Pearl, you fling it into Tavore’s lap. All of it. You damned coward.
Still, who killed Lostara Yil? Well, Adjunct, such disregard ever comes home to roost.
So be it. Tonight belonged to them. Korbolo Dom he could take another night, at his leisure, and yes indeed, he would do just that. And maybe that grinning lizard of a priest as well. Why not? Topper was missing, probably dead. So, Pearl would act, in the name of the empire. Not in Laseen’s name, but in the empire’s, and this was one instance – clearer than any other he could think of – where the two loyalties clashed. But, as ever with the Claw, as with you once, long ago, Empress, the choice is obvious. And necessary.
For all the bravado of his thoughts, as he made his way down to the courtyard, another voice whispered over and over, cutting through again and again. One word, burning like acid, one word…
Coward.
Scowling, Pearl descended the levels of the keep. A Hand was waiting, to be given the task of assassinating a drunk ex-priest. And in this, as well, Pearl had waited too long. He could have forced things into the open, reached through to Tayschrenn – that bastard had virtually entombed himself, never mind that nest of hidden helpers. Oh, the Imperial High Mage wanted to be close to things. Just not involved.
Poor Banaschar, a haunted, befuddled scholar who simply wanted to talk to an old friend. But Mallick Rel did not want Tayschrenn disturbed. Because the Jhistal priest has plans.
Was Laseen truly a fool? There was no possible way she trusted them. So, what was the value in placing those two men in that chamber? To unbalance Tavore? Unbalance? More like a slap in the face. Is that really necessary, Empress? Never mind Tavore, you cannot just use men like Mallick Rel and Korbolo Dom. They will turn on you, like the vipers they are.
The risk in unleashing false rumours was when they proved too successful, trapping the liar in the lie, and Pearl began to realize something… a possibility. To ruin the name of Coltaine, that of his enemy must be raised. Korbolo Dom, from traitor to hero. Somehow… no, I don’t want to know the details. Laseen could not then execute or even imprison a hero, could she? Indeed, she’d have to promote him. Empress, you have trapped yourself. Now, I cannot believe you are not aware of it…
His steps slowed. He had reached the main floor, was ten paces from the postern door that would take him out along the base of the wall, a path of shadows leading him to the Gate.
What do you seek to tell your Adjunct, then? The extremity of the danger you are in? Do you ask Tavore… for help? Will she, upon walking into that chamber, be in any condition to see and understand your plea? For Hood’s sake, Laseen, this could go very, very wrong.
Pearl halted. He could do what was necessary, right now. Walk to the east tower and kick down Tayschrenn’s door. And tell the fool what he needed to hear. He could—
Two hooded figures stepped into view before him. Claws. Both bowed, then the one on the left spoke. ‘Claw, we are informed that our target is ensconced in the Hanged Man Inn. There is a piss trough in the alley behind it, which he will frequent throughout the night.’
‘Yes,’ Pearl said, suddenly exhausted. ‘That would be ideal.’
The two cowled figures before him waited.
‘There is more?’ Pearl asked.
‘Such matters are for you to command.’
‘What matters?’
‘Sir, killing undesirables.’
‘Yes. Go on.’
‘Just that, sir. This target was delivered to us… from elsewhere. From one who expected unquestioned compliance.’
Pearl’s eyes narrowed, then he said, ‘This assassination tonight… you would not accede to it without my direct command.’
‘We seek… affirmation.’
‘Did not the Empress herself confirm the Jhistal’s words?’
‘Sir, she did not. She… said nothing.’
‘Yet she was present.’
‘She was.’
Now what am I to make of that? Was she just feeding out enou
gh rope? Or was she, too, frightened of Tayschrenn and so was pleased to unleash Mallick Rel on Banaschar? Damn! I don’t know enough about all of this. No choice, then, for now. ‘Very well. The command is given.’
The Claw, Mallick Rel, are not yours. And the Empress has… abstained. No, it seems that, until – or if – Topper returns, the Claw are mine. Convenient as well, Laseen, that you brought six hundred with you…
The two assassins bowed, then departed through the postern door.
Then again, why did it feel as if he was the one being used? And worse, why did it seem that he no longer cared? No, it was well. Tonight he would not think, simply obey. Tomorrow, well, that was another matter, wasn’t it? Tomorrow, then, I will kick through what’s left. And decide what needs to be decided. There you have it, Empress. Tomorrow, the new Clawmaster once more cleans house. And maybe… maybe that is what you ask from me. Or you have asked it already, for it wasn’t just the Adjunct for whom you assembled that tribunal, was it? You just gave me command of six hundred assassin-mages, didn’t you? What else would they be for?
The truth was, he could not guess the mind of Empress Laseen, and in that he most certainly was not alone.
Nerves slithered awake in his stomach, born of sudden fears he could not comprehend. Six hundred…
Face it, Pearl. The Adjunct did not kill Lostara. You did. You sent her away, and she died. And that’s that.
But that changes nothing. It makes no real difference what I do now.
Let them all die.
Pearl turned about and made his way to his rooms. To await more orders. Six hundred killers to unleash… but upon whom?
Hellian decided she hated rum. She wanted something else, something not so sweet, something better suited to her nature. It was dark, the wind warm and humid but falling off, and the harbourfront of Malaz seemed to whisper an invitation, like a lover’s breath on the back of her neck.
The sergeant stood watching as the Froth Wolf moved ahead of the rest of the ships, the Silanda following in its wake. Yet, from all around now came the liquid rattle of anchor chains sliding down, and the craft beneath her was tugged to a halt. Staring wildly about, Hellian cursed. ‘Corporal,’ she said.
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