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

Reaper's Gale (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #7) Page 270

Anyway, his heart had slowed its wild run, and he lifted his head and glanced over at the captain. She sat her horse in the deep shadow, unmoving just as he had been, and yet, in an instant, he thought he caught from her a sound-the hammering of waves against stone, the screams of soldiers in battle, swords and slaughter, lances like ice piercing hot flesh, and the waves-and then all of that was gone.

She must have sensed his attention, for she asked in a low voice: ‘Are they well past, Beak?’

‘Aye.’

‘Caught no scent of us?’

‘None, Captain. I hid us with grey and blue. It was easy. That mage she kneels in front of the Holds. She knows nothing about the grey and blue warrens.’

‘The Letherii were supposed to join us,’ Faradan Sort muttered. ‘Instead, we find them riding with Tiste Edur, doing their work for them.’

All stirred up, aye. Especially round here.’

‘And that’s the problem,’ she replied, gathering her reins and nudging her mount out from beneath the heavy branches where they had hidden-fifteen paces off the trail-while the war-party rode past. ‘We’re well ahead of the other squads. Either Hellian or Urb has lost their mind, or maybe both of them.’

Beak followed on his own horse, a gentle bay he’d named Lily. ‘Like a hot poker, Captain, pushing right to the back of the forge. Do that and you burn your hand, right?’

‘The hand, yes. Keneb. You and me. All the other squads.’

‘Um, your hand, I meant.’

‘I am learning to tell those moments,’ she said, now eyeing him.

‘What moments?’ Beak asked.

‘When you’ve convinced yourself how stupid you are.’

‘Oh.’ Those moments. ‘I ain’t never been so loyal, Captain. Never.’

She gave him a strange look then, but said nothing.

They rode up onto the trail and faced their mounts east. ‘They’re up there somewhere ahead,’ the captain said. ‘Causing all sorts of trouble.’

Beak nodded. They’d been tracking those two squads for two nights now. And it was truly a trail of corpses. Sprung ambushes, dead Letherii and Tiste Edur, the bodies dragged off into cover, stripped down and so naked Beak had to avert his eyes, lest evil thoughts sneak into his mind. All the places his mother liked him to touch that one night-no, all that was evil thinking, evil memories, the kind of evil that could make him hang himself as his brother had done.

‘We have to find them, Beak.’

He nodded again.

‘We have to rein them in. Tonight, do you think?’

‘It’s the one named Balgrid, Captain. And the other named Bowl-who’s learned magic real fast. Balgrid’s got the white candle, you see, and this land ain’t had no white candle for a long time. So he’s dragging the smell off all the bodies they’re leaving and that’s muddying things up-those ears they’re cutting off, and the fingers and stuff that they’re tying to their belts. That’s why we’re going from ambush to ambush, right? Instead of straight to them.’

‘Well,’ she said after a moment and another long, curious look, ‘we’re on damned horses, aren’t we?’

‘So are they now, Captain.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I think so. Just tonight. It’s the Holds. There’s one for beasts. And if the Letherii mages figure things out, they could turn with that and find them real fast.’

‘Hood’s breath, Beak. And what about us?’

‘Us too. Of course, there’s plenty of people riding horses round here, bad stirrups or no. But if they get close, then maybe even grey and blue candles won’t work.’

‘You might end up having to show a few more, then.’

Oh, he didn’t like that idea. ‘I hope not. I really hope not.’

‘Let’s get going then, Beak.’

Don’t burn me down to the core, Captain. Please. It won’t he nice, not for anyone. I can still hear their screams and there’s always screams and I start first. My screams scare me the most, Captain. Scare me stupid, aye.

‘Wish Masan Gilani was with us,’ Scant said, pulling up clumps of moss to wash the blood from his hands.

Hellian blinked at the fool. Masan who?

‘Listen, Sergeant,’ Balgrid said again.

He was always saying that and so she’d stopped listening to him. It was like pissing in the fire, the way men could do when women couldn’t. Just a hiss into sudden darkness and then that awful smell. Listen, Sergeant and hiss, she stopped listening.