The Complete Malazan Book of the Fallen (1192 page)

Aranict arrived, reining in. ‘Prince, it pleases me to see you smiling. What so amuses you?'

‘Nothing, Atri-Ceda. That is, nothing of import. We have been found by the K'Chain Che'Malle – such a motley collection of allies we make, don't you think? No matter. Ride with me. I would become acquainted with our new commanders.'

The woman frowned. ‘Are they not two common marines, sire? Anyone can acquire a title – it hardly makes them fit to demand the obedience of a prince, not to mention the queen of the Bolkando.'

‘Gesler and Stormy are far more than just Malazan marines, Aranict. And I am not referring to their new titles.'

‘I don't recall meeting them.'

‘I will be pleased to introduce you, if you like.'

With the standard-bearer twenty paces ahead, they set out side by side, horse hoofs thumping as if on hollow ground. ‘Brys, do you hear that?'

‘We ride across an ancient lake bed,' he said. ‘Often the lake remains, but only beneath the surface, and I think that must have been the case here, once. But now…'

‘The water's gone.'

‘Yes. Gone.'

‘Might we all fall through?'

He shrugged.

‘So now even the ground under us is uncertain.'

‘I am sorry, Aranict. I have been neglecting you.'

‘Yes, you have.'

The flying wing was swinging in behind them, thirty Bluerose lancers in perfect formation. Brys thought about the soldier he'd lost –
to love, no less.
Henar Vygulf now marched with the Bonehunters.
And if I have sent him to his death…I do not think he will curse my name.
‘I am not very good with grief, Aranict. When our parents died, well, without Tehol and Hull I don't think I would have made it through. Kuru Qan once told me that grieving had nothing to do with the ones gone, and everything to do with the ones left behind. We feel the absences in our life like open wounds, and they never really close, no matter how many years pass.'

‘Do you grieve then for the Adjunct and the Bonehunters?'

‘It makes no sense, does it? She…well…she is a difficult woman to like. She views a human gesture as if it was some kind of surrender, a weakness. Her responsibilities consume her, because she will allow herself nothing else.'

‘It was said she had a lover,' said Aranict. ‘She died saving Tavore's life.'

‘Imagine the wound that made.'

‘No one wants to be un-liked, Brys. But if it must be so, one can strive for other things. Like respect. Or even fear. Choices fall away, without you even noticing, until there are very few left, and you realize that you are nothing but what you are.'

Brys thought about that, and then sighed. ‘I should have liked her. I should have found something – beyond her competence, beyond even her stubbornness. Something…'

‘Brys, what is it that you grieve over? Is it your own failure to find in Tavore the reasons you need for following her?'

He grunted. ‘I should have talked to you days ago.'

‘You were too busy saying nothing.'

‘I stayed close, as long as I could. Like a man dying of thirst – was she my salvation? Or just a mirage?' He shook his head.

‘We won't turn back, will we?'

‘No, we won't.'

‘We'll see this through.'

‘Yes, and so I must hide my uncertainty – from my officers, from my soldiers—'

‘But not from me, Brys.'

He turned to study her face, was shocked to see tears streaking her dusty cheeks. ‘Aranict?'

‘Never mind this,' she said, as if angry with herself. ‘Do you want to be like her, Brys? Do you want your responsibilities to consume you?'

‘Of course not.'

‘And since we began marching with the Bonehunters, what has the Adjunct given you?'

‘Not much—'

‘Nothing,' she snapped. ‘Nothing but silence. Every time you needed something else, she gave you silence. Brys, you've said little to anyone for days. Don't take on someone else's wounds. Don't.'

Chastened, he looked ahead. The dark stain of legions in the hazy distance, and a nearer group, humans and lizards both, drawing closer.

When the Guardian of the Names came for me, the sea ran from him like tears. But I was dead by then. I saw none of that. Only upon my rebirth did these visions find me. I see poor Rhulad Sengar lying cut and broken on the blood-spattered floor, crying out to his brothers. I see them turn away. I see my body slumping down against the dais. I see my king sitting lifeless on his throne.

Could we but have left him there, so useless to resist the puppet-masters who ever gather to symbols of power – are they all so blind as to not see the absurdity of their ambitions? The pathetic venality of all their petty scheming? Grasp those dead limbs, then, and make him do your will.

I have dreamed the names of a thousand lost gods. Will I ever speak them? Will I break upon this world one last time those names of the fallen? Is that enough, to give remembrance to the dead? A name upon my breath, spoken out loud, a whisper, a bold shout – will a distant soul stir? Find itself once more?

In speaking a god's name, do we conjure it into being?

‘Brys.'

‘Aranict?'

‘Did you hear me?'

‘I did, and I will heed your warning, my love. But you should bear in mind that, sometimes, solitude is the only refuge left. Solitude…and silence.'

He saw how his words left her shaken, and was sorry.
Shall I by name resurrect a god? Force its eyes to open once more? To see what lies all about us, to see the devastation we have wrought?

Am I that cruel? That selfish?

Silence. Tavore, I think I begin to understand you. Must the fallen be made to see what they died for, to see their sacrifice so squandered? Is this what you mean – what you have always meant – by ‘unwitnessed'?

‘Now it is you who weep – Errant's shove, Brys, what a wretched pair we make. Gather yourself, please – we are almost upon them.'

He drew a shaky breath and straightened in his saddle. ‘I could not have stopped her, Aranict.'

‘Did you really expect to?'

‘I don't know. But I think I have figured something out. She gives us silence because she dares not give us anything else. What we see as cold and indifferent is in fact the deepest compassion imaginable.'

‘Do you think that is true?'

‘I choose to believe it, Aranict.'

‘Well enough, then.'

Brys raised his voice. ‘Bearer!'

The young man reined in and swung his mount out to the right. Brys and Aranict drew up alongside him.

The two marines had dismounted, joining a woman, a boy and a girl. The woman was middle-aged, possibly an Awl by birth. The children were Malazans, though clearly unrelated. Had he seen these two before? In the palace? Possibly. Behind them all stood a half-dozen K'Chain Che'Malle, including three of the saddled creatures. Two of the remaining lizards were not as robust, yet bore huge blades instead of hands, while the third one was broader of snout, heavier of girth, and unarmed. Two ragged-looking dogs wandered out from between the legs of the lizards. The humans approached.

‘Aranict,' said Brys under his breath, ‘tell me what you see.'

‘Not now,' she said, her voice hoarse.

He glanced across to see her setting alight a stick of rustleaf, her hands shaking. ‘Tell me this at least. Shall a prince of Lether relinquish command to these ones?'

Smoke hissed out, and then, ‘The marines…yes, for one simple reason.'

‘Which is?'

‘Better them than those two children.'

I see.

At five paces away they halted, and the clean-shaven marine was the first to speak. His eyes on the standard, he said, ‘So it's true.'

Brys cleared his throat. ‘My brother the king—'

‘Has no respect at all for the institutions of the military,' said the marine, nodding. ‘Hood take me, for that reason alone I'd follow him anywhere. What think you, Stormy?'

The man scowled, scratched his red beard, and then grunted. ‘Do I have to?'

‘Do what? You oaf, I was saying—'

‘And I wasn't listening, so how do I know what you was saying, Gesler? And do I even care? If I did, I'd probably have listened, wouldn't I?'

Gesler muttered something, and then said to Brys, ‘Prince, I'd beg you to excuse my companion's boorish manners, but then he ain't five years old and I ain't his dada, so feel welcome to regard him with disgust. We do, all of us here, ain't that right, Stormy?'

‘I ain't listening.'

‘Prince Brys, about the chain of command the Adjunct wants—'

‘I am content, Mortal Sword Gesler, to accede to her wishes.'

‘Well, we ain't.'

‘Y'got that right,' Stormy growled. ‘It's all right Ges handling the Che'Malle – it's all down to smells, y'see? All he needs to do is fart or whatever and all the swords come out, which come to think of it, is just like old times. In the barracks, why—'

‘It's down to trust,' said the boy. The bigger of the two dogs had drawn up next to him. Belligerent eyes glared out from a mangled face.

No one spoke. The silence stretched.

‘You'd better explain that, Grub,' said Gesler, his expression dark.

Brys started to speak but Aranict stayed him with a hand on his arm.

‘It's down to the people she knows best,' Grub continued. ‘That's all.'

‘We saved their lives!' blurted the standard-bearer, his face flushed.

‘That's enough, soldier,' said Brys. ‘What the boy says makes sense, Gesler. After all, what can she make of our motives? This is her war, it always has been. Why are we here? Why does Queen Abrastal seem intent on making this her cause as well? The Bonehunters brought the Letherii to their knees – might we not harbour resentment over that? Might we not contemplate betrayal? As for Bolkando, well, from all accounts the Khundryl laid waste to vast regions in that kingdom, and spilled the blood of the queen's subjects. Together with the Perish, they effectively subjected Bolkando to outright extortion.'

‘So why should she have any better reason to trust
us
?' Gesler demanded. ‘We got snatched, and now we're commanding our own damned army of lizards. The fact is, we deserted the—'

‘I ain't deserted nothing!' Stormy shouted. The smaller of the two dogs barked.

Brys noted the growing alarm on the face of the Awl woman. He caught her eye and said, ‘You are the Destriant?'

‘I am Kalyth,' she said. ‘I do not understand what is going on. The way you use the trader's tongue – there are words I don't know. I am sorry.' She faced Gesler. ‘He is Mortal Sword of the K'Chain Che'Malle. He is defender of Matron Gunth Mach. We must fight to stay alive. There are old wounds…old…crimes. We cannot escape. Gunth Mach cannot escape. We fight, will fight.'

‘And somehow,' Brys mused, ‘the Adjunct understands the truth of that. How?'

Kalyth shook her head. ‘I do not know her. But' – and she pointed at the girl standing near Grub – ‘where this one goes, there will be fire.'

Gesler rubbed at his face with both hands. ‘Our…Ceda. Sinn. Without her sorcery, and Grub's, the Nah'ruk would have defeated us. Not on the ground, but from the sky keeps. So,' he sighed, ‘Sinn and Grub saved us all. The Adjunct said we'd need them—'

‘No,' corrected Stormy, ‘she said they'd be safer with us than with her.'

Gesler said to Brys, ‘We've been thinking of going after them – into that desert.'

‘She will not be swayed,' said Brys. ‘And she wants none of us to follow her. It is her conviction that we will be needed elsewhere.'

‘I can't assume command,' said Gesler. ‘I'm a Hood-damned marine, a fucking sergeant.'

‘You was a damned
Fist
, Gesler!' Stormy said.

‘For three days—'

‘Till they busted you down, aye! And why was you busted down? No, you don't want to say, do you?'

‘Leave it—'

‘I won't!' Stormy jabbed a finger at his companion. ‘You went and thought you could be another Dassem! You went and got us all to swear our souls to a damned god! This ain't your first time as a Mortal Sword, is it?'

Gesler wheeled on Stormy. ‘How should I know? It's not like Fener reached down and patted me on the head, is it? And what about you,
Adjutant
? You lied to the damned Empress!'

‘I did what Cartheron and Urko asked me to do!'

‘You betrayed the Empire!'

Ceda Sinn was laughing, but it was a cold, cruel laugh.

Kalyth had gone white and had backed up a step, her eyes wide as she looked from Gesler to Stormy and back again.

Sinn said to Gesler. ‘That's why you'll be needed. But you won't like it. Hah! You won't like any of it!'

Gesler made to advance on the girl but Stormy stepped into his path and shoved him back.

‘
Will all of you stop it!
'

Aranict's shout halted everyone.

Swearing under his breath, Gesler turned away from Stormy's challenging glare. ‘Prince, this ain't what I was looking for. I wanted you to take overall command – you or Krughava. Gods, even that queen you talked about. I don't want any of this.'

‘The matter,' said Brys, ‘has proved far more complicated than even I had thought. But I mean to hold to my agreement with the Adjunct. Nor do I expect Queen Abrastal to change her mind, either. Our royal titles are nothing but a product of circumstance. They confer no special talent or ability, and we are both aware of that. Mortal Sword Gesler, it is undeniable that you are in command of the most formidable army in this alliance, and as such, the full weight of command must fall on you.'