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

Gardens of the Moon (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #1) Page 171

The man wore a massive two-handed sword strapped to his back. He stood before the Hounds, making no move towards the weapon.

The seven had now arrayed themselves before them, but they shifted restlessly, warily eyeing the newcomer.

The Tiste And? glanced at Paran. “Whatever you've done to draw the attention of gods, it was unwise,” he said, in Malazan.

“It seems I never learn,” Paran replied.

The Tiste And? smiled. “Then we are much alike, mortal.”

Mortal?

The Hounds paced back and forth, growling and snapping the air. The Tiste And? watched them, then spoke. “Enough meddling. I see you Rood,” he said to one Hound, mangy brown, scarred and yellow-eye “Take your kin and leave. Tell Shadowthrone I won't tolerate his interference. My battle with Malaz is my own. Darujhistan is not for him.”

Rood was the only Hound not growling. Its glowing eyes bore steadily into the Tiste And?” s.

“You have heard my warning, Rood.”

Paran watched as the Tiste And? cocked his head. Slowly he returned his attention to the captain. “Gear wishes you dead.”

“It's the price I pay for showing mercy.”

The Tiste And? raised an eyebrow.

Paran shrugged. “See the scar he carries?”

“That was your mistake, mortal. You must finish what you set out to do.”

“Next time. What happens now?”

“For the moment, mortal, they find the thought of killing me more desirable than that of killing you.”

“And what are their chances?”

“The answer to that is evident in how long they've been hesitating, wouldn't you think, mortal?”

The Hounds attacked faster than anything Paran could have imagined.

His heart lurched as a flurry of motion closed in around the other man.

As the captain stepped back an invisible fist of darkness exploded behind his eyes, a snapping of massive chains, the groan of huge wooden wheels.

He squeezed shut his eyes against the staggering pain, then forced them open again to see that the fight was over. The Tiste And? had his sword in his hands, its black blade slick with blood-blood that boiled and swiftly became ash. Two Hounds lay unmoving, one to either side of him. A wayward wind drew a wintry breath across the scene with a sound like a gasp, shivering the grasses.

Paran saw that one Hound had been nearly decapitated, while the other had been sliced across its broad chest-it did not look like a killing wound, but the creature's eyes, one blue the other veilow, stared sightlessly skyward.

Rood yelped and the others backed away.

Paran tasted blood in his mouth. He spat, then raised a hand to find blood trickling from his ears. The pain in his head was ebbing. He looked up just as the Tiste And?” s head came round to face him. Seeing death in the man's eyes, Paran stepped back and half raised his sword, though the effort took all his strength. He watched, uncomprehending, as the Tiste And? shook his head. “For a moment I thought: No, I see nothing now:”

Paran blinked stinging tears from his eyes, then wiped his cheeks. He started on seeing that the stain of those tears on his forearm was pink.

“You just killed two Hounds of Shadow.”

“The others withdrew.”

“Who are you?”

The Tiste And? did not answer, his attention once more on the Hounds.

Behind them a cloud of shadow was forming in the air, deepening and thickening in its centre. A moment later it dissipated, and a black, shrouded, translucent figure stood in its place, hands tucked into its sleeves. Shadows commanded whatever face lay hidden beneath the hood.

The Tiste And? lowered his sword's point to the ground. “They were warned, Shadowthrone. I want one thing understood. You may prove my match here, especially if your Rope is about. But I promise you, it will be messy, and there are those who will avenge me. Your existence, Shadowthrone, could become uncomfortable. Now, I've yet to lose my temper. Withdraw your Realm's influence from the proceedings, and I will leave it at that.”

“I am not involved,” Shadowthrone said quietly. “My Hounds found the quarry I sought. The hunt is over.” The god's head tilted to observe the two dead creatures. “Over for all time, for Doan and Ganrod.”

Shadowthrone looked up. “There is no release for them?”

“None. Nor for any who would pursue vengeance.”

A sigh issued from the hooded darkness of the god's face. “Ah, well. As I said, I am not involved. However, the Rope is.”

“Recall him,” the Tiste And? commanded. “Now.”