Return of the Crimson Guard (76 page)

Jhest bowed. ‘I trust you slept well and are refreshed. Please do not be alarmed by the presence of our soldiers. They are here to help load your vessel. You must find them somewhat familiar, yes? They are inspired by the many insights gained by those Malazan allies, the Moranth.’

‘Yes,’ Traveller answered curtly. Thank you for the food and water. We
will
be leaving now.’

‘If you must. But I must ask that you reconsider your goal.’

Traveller, who had bent to a cask, straightened to face Jhest. ‘Yes?’ Ereko picked up two casks, one under each arm, and began loading the
Kite.
Kyle and the Lost brothers all spread out around Traveller.

‘You really do not expect to succeed, do you? It is impossible. You would only be throwing away your existence in a futile gesture. Your presumption is beyond arrogance. It is a sad waste.’

Traveller was silent for some time. Kyle, his back to them and eyes fixed on the soldiers, could only hear their exchange. He adjusted his footing – the sand was strangely loose and yielding now, unlike earlier when they had landed the
Kite.
Traveller finally answered, his voice so low Kyle barely caught it, ‘Do not come between me and my vengeance, Jhest. My response will be felt not just by you, but by all those who speak with you as well – and who are no doubt listening at this very moment. Think on that!’ he suddenly yelled, startling Kyle.

‘That is the question, is it not?’ Jhest answered, his voice still eerily
flat, unperturbed. ‘Are we interposing ourselves when said goal is then abandoned? An interesting philosophical point, yes? Room enough, perhaps, for the risk.’

‘Finished,’ Ereko called. Kyle and Stalker, on one side, began edging backwards.

‘You risk far more than you comprehend,’ Traveller said, sounding almost regretful.

‘It would not be a risk otherwise.’

Beneath Kyle's sandals the beach shook, churning. A hissing flow of sands sank his feet to the calves. He jumped, staggering, to keep his footing. A shocked yell from Ereko snapped his head around. Traveller was gone. Kyle gaped at Ereko who stared at the empty sand.

‘No,’
the giant mouthed, appalled.

‘You fools!’
the giant roared at Jhest. ‘You have no idea who –
what
– you are interfering with!’

‘What may, or may not, happen far away in another land is of no interest to us,’ said the mage and he gestured. As one, weapons slid from the soldiers’ wooden and leather sheaths. Ereko sank to his knees, pressed his hands to the sands.

‘Get him on board,’ Stalker snarled, drawing his curved blade. Kyle grasped an arm, but he might as well have been pulling at a tree trunk. The giant dug at the yielding sand, yanking free of Kyle's grip.

‘You really did not think we would be so foolish as to cross swords with
him,
did you?’ Jhest said – his voice still as flat as when they exchanged pleasantries last night.

‘Oh, just kill the bastard, will you?’ Stalker said over his shoulder. Kyle ignored him, a hand at Ereko's arm.

‘We must go – please!’

The soldiers advanced, swinging, and the Lost cousins parried once, twice, holding their ground, ripostes gouging scatterings of the small stones to the sands.

Jhest's bland smile drew down and his smooth brow furrowed. ‘What is this?’ he murmured.

Ereko raised his head and Kyle was shocked by the rage roiling in his molten eyes. ‘You and your cabal have erred, Jhest. You should not have chosen D'riss. Any Warren but that. For you seem to have forgotten who, in truth, / am.’

‘You are Thel Akai, yes. An ancient race of this land – a useless remnant of a sad past.’

‘And who were we before we named ourselves, before any other sentient kind arose? Our forebears were the children of the earth!’

‘Kyle!’ A yell from Stalker. One of the soldiers had caught Badlands in a bearhug. The man stitched the armoured giant in thrusts of his long-knives but to no visible effect. Kyle darted forward, drawing. He swung at a shoulder and the tulwar slid through the stones with a grating screech. The arm hung half-dismembered, accompanied by a gout of black blood as thick as tar. Badlands fell to the sand and lay stunned. Kyle stared. He was so amazed that a ponderous attack from another of the armoured giants almost decapitated him. He ducked, swung two-handed at the leading leg and severed it at the knee. The soldier collapsed to lie flailing in the sands like an upturned beetle.

‘What?
How is this?’ Jhest gaped his disbelief.

Kyle leapt to one of three soldiers Stalker had kept at bay, severing an arm at the elbow and crippling a leg on the backswing.

‘
No
!’ Jhest bellowed. ‘You are not of the
Isturé
!’

Unhesitating, Kyle continued hacking the lumbering giants – none of whom uttered a sound or even flinched from their attack though it was obvious they were doomed. Once down, the brothers finished them off.

After the last, Kyle spun on Jhest. He was exhausted, his arms numb and tingling from the jarring impacts of swings that he'd had to give every ounce of his strength. The Jacuruku mage eyed him in turn. ‘You should not have been able to do that,’ he said flatly. ‘It is therefore the blade. Allow me to examine it.’

‘Allow
me
to kill
him,’
Stalker said to Kyle, panting his own weariness.

‘Not yet.’ He crouched beside Ereko who still knelt on his hands and knees, his arms sunk to his elbows. ‘What should we do?’ he asked, pleading.

Ereko did not answer. His eyes were screwed shut, his teeth clenched, lips drawn back in a rictus of effort. ‘Almost,’ he hissed on a breath.
‘Almost
…’

Jhest clapped his hands, barking an order. Stalker raised his sword. ‘Wait!’ Kyle yelled.

‘Why is this shit still alive?’ Stalker demanded.

‘Damn right,’ Badlands added.

‘Because we may need him.’

‘For
what?’

‘To retrieve Traveller.’

Hesitating, Stalker slammed home his blade. ‘Damn the Dark Hunter!’

Jhest, however, appeared utterly unconcerned. His gaze was directed far off to the jungle-line beyond. A one-sided smile crooked
up his thick lips. Kyle, a cold presentiment shivering his flesh, slowly turned following the mage's gaze.

‘Trouble,’ Coots said laconically, spitting.

Movement shivered the treeline all up and down the beachfront for as far as Kyle could see in either direction. Armoured soldiers identical to those dismembered around them stepped forth. Tens, hundreds.
‘Ereko!’

But still enmeshed in his efforts the giant did not answer.

‘You have no choice but to abandon him,’ Jhest observed blandly.

Snarling, Stalker drew and thrust in one movement. The mage did not flinch. Instead, he looked down calmly at the sword impaling his abdomen and cocked one brow. ‘You will find me a great deal more difficult to kill than my servants.’

Stalker stepped back. His blade sucked free, glistening with a clear, thick ichor.
‘Kyle
…’

‘Wait!’

Ereko, grunting his effort, was withdrawing his arms from the sands. His hands came free, clasped in a shared wristlock with another's arm – Traveller's. Up and down the shore, the beach shuddered, rippling beneath everyone. Even the mage, Jhest, was rocked. ‘No!’ he bellowed. ‘Impossible!’

Beneath Ereko was revealed a gap, a wound into darkness. Sands disappeared, sucked in a growing vortex that appeared to lead to … dark nothingness. Kyle leaned forward to lend a hand.

‘No!’ Ereko gasped. ‘It will take you.’

Traveller's other hand appeared, pushed down against the surface. Gasping, Ereko straightened his legs, drawing the man free. The gaping void disappeared with an explosion like the burst of a Moranth munition. The report of its closure echoed from the tree-line. Traveller lay supine while Ereko straightened, drawing in great bellowing breaths.

‘They're still comin’,’ Coots drawled into the silence.

The swordsman pushed himself to his feet. Jhest watched, his face eager, almost avid, lustful. ‘You live,’ he breathed, awed.

Traveller rolled his shoulders, wincing. ‘My life is now my own, magus. It can no longer be taken by anyone.’

The statement seemed to transport the mage. His eyes lit up and open glee twisted his mouth into a frog-like leer. ‘Then it is true! It can be done!’

Traveller seemed merely to gesture and the mage's head flew from his shoulders to roll to the sands. ‘Not by you.’ He sheathed his sword.

‘Time to run away,’ Coots suggested.

Blinking, Kyle stared at the headless torso of the mage that remained standing, immobile. He had the unnerving impression that should he touch it a hand would leap up to grab him. Glancing away he saw the army of armoured soldiers almost within reach.
‘Run!’
They leaned their shoulders to the
Kite,
pushed it out into the surf. The Lost brothers pulled themselves in. Ereko, Kyle saw, glanced back and cursed, slogging away. Traveller had remained on the shore.

Cursing as well, Kyle threw himself back into the surf. When he arrived Ereko was pleading with the swordsman. ‘It is of no use!’

‘Go,’ Traveller said. ‘I will deal with all of these and their masters as well.’

‘There is no need!’ Ereko was fairly weeping.

‘They came between myself and my vengeance.’

‘Traveller!’ Kyle called sharply.

The dark-skinned swordsman pulled his gaze from the relentless advance of the soldiers. He glanced to Kyle, puzzled, ‘Yes?’

‘Your vengeance is elsewhere, isn't it?’

A hand rose from his sword grip to massage his brow. He clenched his eyes shut, pinching them.

‘Well?’

The front ranks of soldiers met and trampled the body of Jhest. They drew their weapons in a clash of iron that echoed all up and down the treeline. Traveller allowed Ereko to drag him backwards into the surf. ‘Yes. Elsewhere …’ he murmured, sounding confused.

The waves buoyed them, darkening Traveller's leathers. Ereko continued pulling the man backwards. Kyle forced himself out against the waves. Glancing back, his chest clenched at the sight of the statue-like soldiers marching on, not even hesitating, to push into the surf. ‘Don't stop!’

The cousins reached for them over the side of the
Kite,
Ereko slapped their hands aside. ‘Trim the sail!’

Springing up, Kyle grasped hold of a rope. Ereko had an arm around Traveller who still held his head, his eyes closed. The sail snapped, filling. The
Kite
pulled on Kyle. Behind them the soldiers marched on, disappearing beneath the waves rank after rank. Hanging from the side, Kyle could not help but raise his legs as tightly as he could from the water.

* * *

Impatient strikes on the tunnel wall next to his alcove brought Ho from his meal of stewed vegetables and unleavened bread. He swept aside the rag hanging across the opening, a retort on his lips, to meet no one. Peering down he found the bent double shape of Su, an aged Wickan witch whom gossip in the tunnels had as once member of the highest circles of tribal councils. ‘What is it, Su?’

She closed her dark knotted hands on a walking stick no longer than his foreleg. Her fingers were twisted by the swelling of the joints that afflicts the aged – those who cannot afford the Denul treatments or have access to them – and she cocked her head to examine him with one eye black and beady like the proverbial crow's. ‘Just thought you might want to know. They caught those two newcomers. The Malazan spies. Caught them poking around down at the excavation. I do believe Yath intends to kill them.’