The Crippled God (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #10)

The Crippled God (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #10) Page 424

‘It may be as you say,’ acknowledged Brother Aloft. ‘But what if our eyes deceive us? What if what we are seeing is in fact precisely what our opponent wants us to see?’

‘Now you are too generous by far,’ Sister Freedom admonished him. ‘This is a breakdown in timing, perhaps precipitated by our detecting this western threat almost the instant it stepped out from the Glass Desert, and already being in perfect position to strike them with little delay.’

‘I accept the wisdom of your words, Sister.’

‘I will not castigate you, Brother, for listening to your instincts. Although, as we all know, if left unrestrained instincts have a way of encouraging panic – as they lie beyond the control of the intellect to begin with, theirs is the shorter path to fear.’

The three Forkrul Assail were silent then, each preoccupied with their own thoughts.

And then Sister Freedom said, ‘I shall seek to enslave the soldiers we face. They could prove useful.’

‘But not the hundred I hunt,’ said Brother Grave.

‘No,’ she agreed. ‘Kill them all, Brother.’

Ben Adaephon Delat reined in hard, his horse’s hoofs skidding through the parched grasses.

Cursing, Kalam wheeled his mount round, the beast pitching beneath him in its exhaustion. He glared back his friend. ‘What is it now, Quick?’

But the wizard held up a hand, shaking his head.

Settling back to ease his aching spine, Kalam looked round, seeing nothing but empty, rolling land. The taint of green from the jade slashes overhead made the world look sickly, but already he was growing used to that.

‘Never mind the Adjunct,’ Quick Ben said.

Kalam shot him a startled look. ‘What? Her brother—’

‘I know – you think this was easy? I felt them pulling apart. I’ve been thinking about that all morning. I know why Ganoes wants us to find her – I know why he sent us ahead. But it’s no good, Kalam. I’m sorry. It’s no good.’

The assassin stared at his friend for a moment longer, and then he sagged, spat to clear the taste of ashes from his mouth. ‘She’s on her own, then.’

‘Aye. Her choice.’

‘No – don’t even try that, Quick. This is your choice!’

‘She’s forced my hand, damn you!’

‘How? What has she done? What’s all this about pulling apart? What in Hood’s name does that even mean?’

Quick Ben’s horse must have picked up some of its rider’s agitation, for it now shied beneath him and he fought to regain control for a moment. As the animal backed in a half-circle, the wizard swore under his breath. ‘Listen. It’s not with her any more. She’s made herself the sacrifice – how do you think I can even know this? Kalam, she’s given up her sword .’

Kalam stared. ‘What?’

‘But I can feel it – that weapon. It’s the blank place in my vision. That’s where we have to go.’

‘So she dies, does she? Just like that?’

Quick Ben rubbed at his face. ‘No. We’ve been doing too much of this – all of us. From the very start.’

‘Back to the fucking riddles.’

‘Underestimating her! From damned near the first day I ended up with the Bonehunters, I’ve listened to us all second-guessing her, every damned step she took. I did my share, Hood knows. But it wasn’t just me, was it? Her officers. The marines. The fucking camp cook – what did you tell me a while back? About that moment in Mock’s Hold, when she asked you to save her? You did it, you said, because she just asked you – no bargaining, no reasons or explanations. She just went and asked you, Kalam. Was it hard saying yes? Tell me the truth. Was it?’

Slowly, Kalam shook his head. ‘But I sometimes wondered … did I just feel sorry for her?’

Quick Ben reacted as if he’d been slapped. In a soft voice he asked, ‘Do you still think that, Kalam?’

The assassin was silent, thinking about it. Then he sighed. ‘We know where Ganoes wants us. We even know why – he’s her brother, for Hood’s sake.’

‘We know where she wants us, too, Kalam.’

‘Do we?’

Quick Ben slowly nodded.

‘So which of the fucking Parans do we obey here?’

‘Which one would you rather face – here or other side of the Gates – to tell ’em you failed, that you made the wrong choice? No, I don’t mean brazening it out, either. Just standing there, saying what needs saying?’