Toll the Hounds (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #8)

Toll the Hounds (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #8) Page 358

They reached the slope leading to the mouth of the tunnel. Three grown-ups were trying to fix the axle of a cart and they looked up when Venaz arrived.

‘Where’s Bainisk? Venaz asked.

‘New vein,’ one of them replied. ‘He in trouble again?’

‘He got his moles with him?’ It felt good being so important he didn’t have to answer the man’s question.

Shrugs all round.

Venaz scowled. ‘Has he got his moles with him?’

The one who’d spoken slowly straightened. His backhanded slap caught Venaz by surprise, and was hard enough to knock the boy back. He was then grabbed and thrown on to the stony ground. The man stood over him. ‘Watch your mouth.’

Venaz sat up, glaring. ‘You ain’t seen what just happened? Up on the ridge?’

Another grunted. ‘We heard ‘bout something.’

‘A duel-the Big Man killed someone!’

‘So what?’

‘And then he called for Harllo! He wants Harllo! And I come to get him and you’re stopping me and when he hears-’

He got no further as the man who had struck him now grasped him by the throat and dragged him to his feet. ‘He won’t hear nothing, Venaz. You think we give a fuck about Vidikas having a fuckin’ duel? Killin’ some poor bastard for what? Our entertainment?’

‘He’s turnin’ blue, Haid. Better loosen yer grip some.’

Venaz gasped an agonizing lungful of air.

‘Get it right, lad,’ Haid went on, ‘Vidikas owns us. We’re pieces of meat to him, right? So he puts out a call for one of us and for what? Why, to chew it up, that poor piece of meat. And what, you think that’s a fuckin’ good idea? Get outa my sight, Venaz, but you can count on me rememberin’ this.’

The pack was huddled together now, white-faced, but among some of them there was something rather more calculating. Was this the moment to usurp Venaz?

The three men went back to working on the axle. Venaz, his colour returning to normal, dusted himself off and then set out in a stiff-legged march towards the tunnel mouth. His pack fell in behind him.

As they plunged into the cool gloom Venaz wheeled. ‘That was Haid and Favo and Dule, right? Remember them names. They’re on my list now, all three of them. They’re on my list.’

Faces nodded.

And those who had been weighing their chances each realized that the moment had passed. They’d been too slow. Venaz had a way of recovering, and fast, scary fast. He was, they reminded themselves yet again, going places, without a doubt.

Harllo slid along the vein, feeling with his bared stomach the purity of the black silver and, yes, it was silver and where had it come from when all they’d been working for so long was copper up on the skins and iron down deep? But it felt so beautiful, this silver. Better than gold, better than anything.

Wait till he told Bainisk and Bainisk told the foreman! They’d ho heroes, They might even get extra portions at supper, or a cup of watered wine!

The chute was narrow, so small they’d need moles for weeks before it got worked out big enough to take the pickers, so there was a good chance that Har-llo would be seeing-and feeling-a lot more of this silver, every day, maybe.

And all that trouble from before would go, away, just like that-he knew it would-,

‘Harllo!’

The voice whispered up from somewhere behind his feet, reminding him that he was still head down and that could be dangerous. He-might pass out and not even know it. ‘I’m all right, Bainisk! I found-’

‘Harllo! Get back here right now!’

A shiver ran through Harllo. Bainisk’s voice didn’t sound right. It sounded… scared.

But that wouldn’t last, would it? Not with the silver-

‘Hurry!’

Moving backwards was never easy. He pushed with his hands, squirmed and pressed his toes against the hard stone and then extended his heels. There were leather pads tied to his feet for this purpose, but it still hurt. Like a caterpillar, gathering up and then pushing, bit by bit, working his way back up the chute.

All at once hands grasped his ankles and he was being roughly dragged.

Harllo cried out as his chin struck an obstruction and when he lifted his head up the top crunched on rock, scraping away skin and hair. ‘Bainisk! What-’

He fell free of the chute, thumping down. The hands released his ankles and now grasped his upper arms, lifting him to his feet.

‘Bainisk-’

‘Shhh! Word’s come down-someone came to find you-from the city.’