Gardens of the Moon (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #1)

Gardens of the Moon (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #1) Page 160

He glared at the Tiste And?. “To you, Darujhistan is just another battle ground for your private war with the Empress. You don't give a damm about how this city survives-how it has managed to survive three thousand years.”

Rake shrugged. “Enlighten me.”

“The City Council has its function, a vital one. They are the & machine. True, Majesty Hall is a place of pettiness, corruption, endless bickering but, despite all that, it's also a place where things get done.”

“What's that got to do with Vorcan and her gang of killers?”

Baruk grimaced. “Like any burdened wagon, the wheels require grease.

Without the option of assassination the noble families would have long since destroyed themselves, taking the city with them, through civil war.

Secondly, the Guild's efficiency provides a measure of control on vendettas, arguments and so forth. It is the guaranteed option of bloodshed, and bloodshed is messy. Usually too messy for the nobility's sensibilities.”

“Curious,” Rake said. “Nevertheless, don't you think that Vorcan would listen very carefully indeed to an offer from the Empress? After all, Laseen has the precedent of handing over the rule of a conquered city to an assassin. In fact, at least a third of her present High Fists come from that profession.”

“You are missing the point!” Baruk's face was dark. “You did not consult us, and that cannot be tolerated.”

“You haven't answered me,” Rake retorted, in a voice quiet and cold.

“Would Vorcan take the contract? Could she manage it? Is she that good, Baruk?”

The alchemist turned away. “I don't know. That's my answer, to all three questions.”

Rake stared hard at Baruk. “If you were indeed nothing more than an alchemist, I might believe you.”

Baruk's smile was wry. “Why would you think me anything but?”

Now it was Rake's turn to smile. “There are few who would argue with me without flinching. I am unused to be addressed as an equal.”

“There are many paths to Ascendancy, some more subtle than others.”

Baruk walked over to the mantel above the fireplace, took a carafe, then went to the shelf behind his desk and retrieved two crystal goblets. “She's a High Mage. We all have magical defences, but against her:” He filled the goblets with wine.

Rake joined the alchemist. He accepted the glass and raised it between them. “I apologize for not informing you. In truth, the thought hadn't crossed my mind as being especially important. Until tonight, I was acting on a theory, nothing more. I didn't consider the ripples a grounded Guild might cause.”

Baruk sipped his wine. “Anomander Rake, tell me something. There was a presence in our city tonight-a conjuring.”

“One of Tayschrenn's Korvalah demons,” Rake answered. “Released by a Claw wizard.” He took a mouthful of the tart liquid, let it roll for a moment, then swallowed with satisfaction. “It's gone.”

“Gone?” Baruk asked quietly. “Where?”

“Out of Tayschrenn's reach,” Rake said, a tight smile on his lips. “Out of anyone's reach.”

“Your sword,” Baruk said, repressing a shiver as the memory of that closing vision returned to him. The creak of wheels, the clank of chains, the groans of a thousand lost souls. And darkness.

“Oh, yes,” Rake said, refilling his goblet. “I received the two Pale wizards” heads. As you promised. I admire your efficiency, Baruk. Did they protest?”

Baruk paled. “I explained to them the options,” he said quietly. “No, they didn't protest.”

Rake's soft laugh chilled the blood in Baruk's veins.

At the distant sound Kruppe rose. The small fire flickered steadily before him, but its heat seemed less. “Ah,” he sighed, “Kruppe's hands are near numb, yet his ears are as sharp as ever. Listen to this faint sound in the very nether regions of his present dream. Does he know its source?”

“Perhaps,” K'rul said beside him.

Startled, Kruppe turned, his eyebrows rising. “Kruppe thought you long gone, Eldering One. None the less, he is thankful for your company.”

The hooded god nodded. “All is well with the child Tattersail. The Rhivi protect her, and she grows swiftly, as is the nature of Soletaken. A powerful warlord now shelters her.”

“Good,” Kruppe said, smiling. The noises in the distance drew his attention again. He stared out into the darkness, seeing nothing.