Reaper's Gale (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #7)

Reaper's Gale (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #7) Page 129

Leave the family residences of the Palace Guard immediately-barring your eldest child who is now Indebted to the estate of the Chancellor.

He despised incompetence-and to be made to suffer its consequences… well, someone paid. Always. Two children, then, yes. Hopefully boys. And now he would need two new bodyguards. From among the married guard, of course. Someone to pay the debt should they fail me.

His broken fingers were growing numb, although a heavy ache throbbed in his wrist and forearm now.

The Chancellor set off for the residence of his private healer.

Her nightgown half torn, Nisall was pushed into a win-dowless room that was lit by a single candle positioned on a small table in the centre. The chill, damp air stank of old fear and human waste. Shivering from the night’s march through the streets, she stood unmoving for a moment, seeking to wrap the gauze-thin material closer about herself.

Two young innocent women were dead. Butchered like criminals. And Tissin is next-as close to a mother as I have ever had. She has done nothing-no, stop that. None of us have. But that doesn’t matter-I cannot think otherwise. 1 cannot pretend that anything 1 say will make a difference, will in any way change my fate. No, this is a death sentence. For me. For Tissin.

The Emperor would not hear of this. She was certain of that. Triban Gnol would announce that she was missing from the palace. That she had fled-just one more betrayal. Rhulad would flinch back in his throne, seeming to shrink in upon himself, as the Chancellor carefully, remorselessly fed the Emperor’s many insecurities, then stood back to observe how his poisoned words stole the life from Rhulad’s tortured eyes.

We cannot win against this. They are too clever, too ruthless. Their only desire is to destroy Rhulad-his mind-to leave him gibbering, beset by unseen terrors, unable to do anything, unwilling to see anyone. Anyone who might help him.

Errant save him-

The door was thrown open, swinging to slam hard against the wall, where old cracks showed that this violent announcement was part of the pattern. But she had noted those, and so did not start at the cracking crunch, but merely turned to face her tormentor.

None other than Karos Invictad himself. A swirl of crimson silks, onyx rings on his fingers, the sceptre of his office held in one hand and resting between right shoulder and clavicle. A look of faint dismay in the mundane features. ‘Dearest woman,’ he said in his high voice, ‘let us be quick about this, so that I can be merciful. I’ve no wish to damage you, lovely as you are. Thus, a signed statement outlining your treason against the empire, then a quick, private execution. Your handmaiden has already complied, and has been mercifully decapitated.’

Oh, well done, Tissin. Yet she herself struggled, seeking similar courage-to accept things as they were, to recognize that no other recourse was possible. ‘Decapitation is not damage?’

An empty smile. ‘The damage I was referring to, of course, concerned wresting from you your confession. Some advice: compose your features in the moment before the blade descends. It is an unfortunate fact that the head lives on a few moments after it has been severed from the neck. A few blinks, a roll or two of the eyes, and, if one is not… mindful, a rash of unpleasant expressions. Alas, your handmaiden was disinclined to heed such advice, too busy as she was with a pointless tirade of curses.’

‘Pray the Errant heard her,’ Nisall said. Her heart was thudding hard against her ribs.

‘Oh, she did not curse me in the Errant’s name, sweet whore. No, instead she revealed a faith long believed to be extinct. Did you know her ancestry was Shake? By the Holds, I cannot even recall the name of the god she uttered.’ He shrugged and smiled his empty smile once more. ‘No matter. Indeed, even had she called upon the Errant, I would have no cause to panic. Coddled as you are-or, rather, were-in the palace, you are probably unaware that the handful of temples in the city purportedly sanctified in the Errant’s name are in truth private and wholly secular-businesses, in fact, profiting from the ignorance of citizens. Their priests and priestesses are actors one and all. I sometimes wonder if Ezgara Diskanar even knew-he seemed oddly devoted to the Errant.’ He paused, then sighed. The sceptre began tapping in place. ‘You seek to delay the inevitable. Understandable, but I have no wish to remain here all night. I am sleepy and desire to retire at the earliest opportunity. You look chilled, Nisall. And this is a dreadful room, after all. Let us return to my office. I have a spare robe that is proof against any draught. And writing materials at hand.’ He gestured with the sceptre and turned about.

The door opened and Nisall saw two guards in the corridor.