Where is the darkness In the days gone past When the sun bathed everything In godling light And we were burnished bright In our youthful ascendancy Delighted shrieks and Distant laughter Carried on the gilden stream Of days that did not pause For night with every shadow Burned through By immortal fire Where then is the darkness Arrived at sun’s death Arrived creeping and low To growl revelations Of the torrid descent That drags us down Onto this moment.
Immortal fire Fisher kel Tath
A VOICE SPOKE FROM THE DARKNESS, ‘I WOULDN’T GO DOWN THAT street, old man.’
Bugg glanced over. ‘I thank you for the warning,’ he replied, walking on.
Ten paces into the narrow alley he could smell spilled blood. Footsteps behind him told him the look-out had moved into his wake, presumably to block his avenue of retreat.
‘I warned you.’
‘I’m the one you sent for,’ Bugg said.
Four more figures appeared from the gloom in front of him, cutthroats one and all. They looked frightened.
The look-out came round and stepped close to peer at Bugg’s face. ‘You’re the Waiting Man? You ain’t what I ’spected.’
‘What has happened here? Who’s dead and who killed him?’
‘Not “who” killed ’im,’ one of the four standing before Bugg muttered. ‘More like “what”. An’ we don’t know. Only it was big, skin black as canal water, with spikes on its arms. Eyes like a snake’s, glowing grey.’
Bugg sniffed the air, seeking something beyond the blood.
‘It ripped Strong Rall to pieces, it did, then went into that building.’
The manservant swung his gaze to where the man pointed. A derelict temple, sunken down at one corner, the peaked roof tilted sharply on that side. Bugg grunted. ‘That was the last temple of the Fulcra, wasn’t it?’
‘Don’t ask us.’
‘That cult’s been dead a hundred years at least,’ the manservant continued, scowling at the dilapidated structure. The entranceway, wide and gaping, capped in a solid lintel stone, was once three steps higher than street level. Back when this alley had been a street. He could just make out the right corner of the top step. There seemed to be a heap of rubbish piled up just within, recently disturbed. Bugg glanced back at the five thugs. ‘What were you doing skulking around here, anyway?’
An exchange of looks, then the look-out shrugged. ‘We was hiding.’
‘Hiding?’
‘This little girl… well, uh…’
‘Ah. Right.’ Bugg faced the entrance once again.
‘Hold on, old man,’ the man said. ‘You ain’t goin’ in there, are you?’
‘Well, why else did you call for me?’
‘We expected you to, uh, to get the city guards or something. Maybe a mage or three.’
‘I might well do that. But first, better to know what we’re dealing with.’ Bugg then clambered into the ruined temple. Thick, damp air and profound darkness. A smell of freshly turned earth, and then, faintly, the sound of breathing. Slow and deep. The manservant fixed his gaze on the source of that sound. ‘All right,’ he said in a murmur, ‘it’s been some time since you last breathed the night air. But that doesn’t give you the right to kill a hapless mortal, does it?’
A massive shape shuffled to one side near the far wall. ‘Don’t hurt me. I’m not going back. They’re killing everyone.’
Bugg sighed. ‘You’ll have to do better than that.’
The shape seemed to break apart, and the manservant saw motion, fanning out. At least six new, smaller forms, each low and long. The gleam of reptilian eyes fixed on him from all along the back wall.
‘So that is why you chose this temple,’ Bugg said. ‘Alas, your worshippers are long gone.’
‘You may think so.’ A half-dozen voices now, a whispered chorus. ‘But you are wrong.’
‘Why did you kill that mortal?’
‘He was blocking the doorway.’
‘So, now that you’re here…’
‘I will wait.’
Bugg considered this, and the implications inherent in that statement. He slowly frowned. ‘Very well. But no more killing. Stay in here.’
‘I will agree to that. For now.’
‘Until what you’re waiting for… arrives.’
‘Yes. Then we shall hunt.’
Bugg turned away. ‘That’s what you think,’ he said under his breath.
He reappeared outside the temple. Studied the five terrified faces in the gloom. ‘Spread the word that no-one is to enter that temple.’
‘That’s it? What about the guards? The mages? What about Strong Rall?’
‘Well, if you’re interested in vengeance, I suggest you find a few thousand friends first. There will be a reckoning, eventually.’
The look-out snorted. ‘The Waiting Man wants us to wait.’
Bugg shrugged. ‘The best I can do. To oust this beast, the Ceda himself would have to come down here.’
‘So send for him!’
‘I’m afraid I don’t possess that sort of clout. Go home, all of you.’
Bugg moved past them and made his way down the alley. Things were getting decidedly complicated. And that was never good. He wondered how many more creatures were escaping the barrows. From the Pack’s words, not many. Which was a relief.
Even so, he decided, he’d better see for himself. The rendezvous awaiting him would have to wait a little longer. That would likely earn him an earful, but it couldn’t be helped. The Seventh Closure was shaping up to be eventful. He wondered if that prophecy, of empire reborn, was in some way linked to the death of the Azath tower. He hoped not.
The night was surprisingly quiet. The usual crowds that appeared once the day’s heat was past were virtually absent as Bugg made his way down the length of Quillas Canal. He came within sight of the Eternal Domicile. Well, he reminded himself, at least that had been a success.
The Royal Engineer, aptly named Grum, had been a reluctant, envious deliverer of a royal contract, specifying Bugg’s Construction to assume control of shoring up the compromised wings of the new palace. He had been even less pleased when Bugg ordered the old crews to vacate, taking their equipment with them. Bugg had then spent most of the following day wading flooded tunnels, just to get a feel of the magnitude of the task ahead.
True to Tehol’s prediction, Bugg’s modest company was climbing in the Tolls, frighteningly fast. Since the list of shares was sealed, Bugg had managed to sell four thousand and twenty-two per cent of shares, and still hold a controlling interest. Of course, he’d be headlining the Drownings if the deceit was ever discovered. ‘But I’m prepared to take that risk,’ Tehol had said with a broad smile. Funny man, his master.
Nearing the old palace, then into the wending alleyways and forgotten streets behind it. This part of the city seemed virtually lifeless, no-one venturing outside. Stray dogs paused in their scavenging to watch him pass. Rats scurried from his path.
He reached the wall of the square tower, walked along it until he was at the gateway. A pause, during which he wilfully suppressed his nervousness at entering the grounds. The Azath was dead, after all. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, he strode forward.
The barrows to either side were strangely crumpled, but he could see no gaping holes. Yet. He left the path. Insects crunched or squirmed underfoot. The tufts of grass looked macerated and were crawling with life.
Bugg arrived at one barrow where the near side was gone, in its place a black pit across which was the toppled bole of a dead tree. There was the sound of scrabbling from within.
Then Kettle clambered into view. Clumps of white worms writhed in her straggly, matted hair, rode seething on her shoulders. She pulled herself up using a branch of the tree, then paused to brush the worms off, the gesture dainty and oddly affecting. ‘It’s gone,’ she said. ‘Uncle Bugg, this one’s gone.’
‘I know.’
‘I didn’t see it. I should have seen it.’
He shook his head. ‘It is very stealthy, Kettle. And fast. All it needed was a moment when your back was turned. A single moment, no more. In any case, I’ve met it, and, for now at least, it won’t be bothering anyone.’
‘Nothing’s working, Uncle Bugg. I need the one below. I need to get him out.’
‘What is impeding him, do you know?’
She shook her head, the motion shedding more worms. ‘At least he’s got swords now. Uncle Brys brought them. I pushed them into the barrow.’
‘Brys Beddict? Lass, you are finding worthy allies. Has the Ceda visited?’
‘I don’t know any Ceda.’
‘I am surprised by that. He should come soon, once he finds out about you.’
‘Me?’
‘Well, more specifically, your heart.’
She cocked her head. ‘I hear thumps. In my chest. Is that my heart?’
‘Yes. How often are the thumps coming?’
‘Maybe eight a day. Now. Before, maybe four. To start, once. Loud, hurting my head.’
‘Hurting? You are feeling pain, lass?’
‘Not so much any more. Aches. Twinges. That’s how I know something’s wrong with me. Used to be I didn’t feel anything.’
Bugg ran a hand through his thinning hair. He looked up, studied the night sky. Cloud-covered, but the clouds were high, flat and un-wrinkled, a worn blanket through which stars could be seen here and there. He sighed. ‘All right, lass, show me where you buried the swords.’
He followed her to a barrow closer to the tower.
‘He’s in this one.’
But the manservant’s gaze was drawn to an identical barrow beside the one she indicated. ‘Now, who does that one belong to, I wonder.’
‘She’s always promising me things. Rewards. The five who are killing all the others won’t go near her. Sometimes, her anger burns in my head like fire. She’s very angry, but not at me, she says. Those bitches, she says, and that tells me she’s sleeping, because she only says that when she’s sleeping. When she’s awake, she whispers nice things to me.’
Bugg was slowly nodding. ‘It sounds absurd,’ he said, mostly to himself. ‘Absurd and mundane.’
‘What does, Uncle?’
‘She’s got him by the ankles. I know. It’s ridiculous, but that’s why he’s having trouble getting out. She’s got him by the ankles.’
‘To keep him where he is?’
‘No. To make sure she follows him out.’
‘She’s cheating!’
Despite his unease, Bugg smiled. ‘So she is, lass. Of course, she may only end up keeping both of them trapped.’
‘Oh no, he’s got the swords now. He just has to work them down. That’s what he said. I didn’t understand before, but I do now. He said he was going to do some sawing.’
Bugg winced.
Then he frowned. ‘The five, how close are they to escaping?’
Kettle shrugged. ‘They’ve killed most everything else. I don’t know. Soon, I guess. They are going to do terrible things to me, they say.’
‘Be sure to call for help before they get out.’
‘I will.’
‘I have to be going now.’
‘Okay. Goodbye, Uncle.’
Awakened by one of the Preda’s corporals, Brys quickly dressed and followed the young soldier to the Campaigns Room, where he found King Ezgara Diskanar, the Ceda, Unnutal Hebaz and the First Concubine Nisall. The king and his mistress stood at one side of a map table, opposite the Preda. Kuru Qan paced a circle around the entire ensemble, removing his strange eye-lenses for a polish every now and then.
‘Finadd,’ Unnutal Hebaz said, ‘join us, please.’
‘What has happened?’ Brys asked.
‘We are, it seems, at war,’ the Preda replied. ‘I am about to inform the king of the disposition of our forces at present.’
‘I apologize for interrupting, Preda.’
Ezgara Diskanar waved a hand. ‘I wanted you here, Brys. Now, Unnutal, proceed.’
‘Divisions, battalions and brigades,’ she said. ‘And garrisons. Our land forces. I will speak of the fleets later. Thus, from west to east along the frontier. On the Reach, First Maiden Fort, its defences still under construction and nowhere near complete. I have judged it indefensible and so am sending the garrison to reinforce Fent Reach. Second Maiden Fort has a garrison of six hundred indicted soldiers, presently being retrained. The island is a penal fortress, as you know. The willingness of the prisoners to fight is of course problematic. None the less, I would suggest we leave them there. Third Maiden Fort will remain active, but with a nominal presence, there to act as forward observers should an Edur fleet round the island and make for the city of Awl.’
‘Where we have an army,’ the king said.
‘Yes, sire. The Snakebelt Battalion, stationed in the city. The Crimson Rampant Brigade is in Tulamesh down the coast. Now, eastward from the Reach, the port of Trate. Cold Clay Battalion and the Trate Legion, with the Riven Brigade and the Katter Legion down in Old Katter. High Fort has, in addition to its rotating garrison forces, the Grass Jackets Brigade. Normally, we would have the Whitefinder Battalion there as well, but they are presently conducting exercises outside First Reach. They will of course be moving north immediately.
‘Further east, the situation is more satisfactory. At Fort Shake is the Harridict Brigade, with the Artisan Battalion encamped outside the Manse – more exercises.’
‘How long will it take the Whitefinders to reach High Fort?’ the king asked.
‘Reach and Thetil Roads are in good repair, sire. Five days. They leave tomorrow. I would emphasize again, the Ceda’s mages are a major tactical advantage. Our communications are instantaneous.’
‘But I want something more,’ Ezgara said in a growl. ‘I want something pre-emptive, Preda. I want them to change their minds on this damned war.’
Unnutal slowly turned to catch Kuru Qan with her gaze. ‘Ceda?’
‘Relevant? Less than we would hope. You want their villages struck? Those just beyond the mountains? Very well.’
‘How soon can you arrange it?’ the king asked.
‘The cadre in Trate is assembling, sire. Dawn, three days from now.’
‘Pray to the Errant that it dissuades them.’ The king managed a wry grin as he watched the Ceda resume his pacing. ‘But you are not confident that it will, are you, Kuru Qan?’
‘I am not, sire. Fortunately, I do not believe even Hull would suspect that we would attack the Edur villages.’
Brys felt his blood grow cold. ‘Ceda? Has my brother…?’
A sorrowful nod. ‘This is a path Hull Beddict has been walking on for a long time. No-one here is surprised, Finadd.’
Brys swallowed, then struggled to speak, ‘I would have… thought… given that knowledge-’
‘That he would have been assassinated?’ Ezgara asked. ‘No, Brys. His presence is to our tactical advantage, not this damned upstart emperor’s. We are well aware he is advising the Edur on our manner of waging war, and we mean to make use of that.’ The king paused, looked up. ‘Hull’s actions in no way impugn you in our eyes, Brys. Be assured of that.’
‘Thank you, sire.’ And to prove your word, you invite me to this meeting. ‘It is unfortunate that Nifadas failed in his mission. What do we know of this new “upstart” emperor you mentioned?’
‘He has vast magic at his command,’ Kuru Qan replied distractedly. ‘We can discern little more than that.’
The First Concubine moved from the king’s side, seemingly distracted.
‘The most relevant detail for us,’ Unnutal Hebaz added, ‘is that he is in possession of absolute loyalty among the Edur tribes. And, although Hannan Mosag has been usurped, the Warlock King now stands at the emperor’s side as his principal adviser.’
Brys was startled by that. ‘The Warlock King simply stepped aside? That is… extraordinary.’
The Preda nodded. ‘Sufficient to give us pause. Our forward posts have reported sightings along the frontier. Shadows moving at night.’
‘The wraiths,’ the Ceda said, his expression souring. ‘We have dealt with them before, of course, and effectively so. None the less, they are an irritant.’
‘Do the Tiste Edur have sacred sites?’ Nisall asked from where she now stood, close to the far wall. Faces turned towards her. Arms crossed, she shrugged. ‘Sorcery that annihilates those sites might well weaken their hold on these wraiths. Wasn’t something similar done to the Nerek and the Tarthenal?’
The Ceda seemed saddened by the suggestion, but he nodded and said, ‘An interesting notion, First Concubine. The Edur are very secretive regarding their sacred sites. Although it does appear to be the case that the very ground beneath their villages is sanctified. Thus, when we destroy those villages, the result may well prove more profound than we imagine. This is a relevant consideration. As for the hidden groves and such, we should make use of the various Acquitors who are familiar with that territory.’
‘How soon will the delegation reach the Mouth at Gedry?’ Brys asked the Preda.
She nodded towards Kuru Qan. ‘The return journey is being hastened. A week, no more.’
Then three days up the river to arrive here. The war would be well under way by then. ‘Sire, may I ask a question of you?’
‘Of course, Brys.’
‘Where is the Queen’s Battalion?’
A momentary silence, then the Preda cleared her throat. ‘If I may, sire…’
Thin-lipped, the king nodded.
‘Finadd, the queen has taken personal command of her forces, along with the Quillas Brigade. She insists on independence in this matter. Accordingly, we are not factoring those assets into our discussion.’
‘My dear wife has always held them to be her own, private army,’ Ezgara Diskanar said. ‘So be it. Better to have them pursuing her ambitions in the field than here in Letheras.’
‘That being said,’ Unnutal Hebaz added, ‘we believe they are less than a league south of High Fort, marching northward to meet the Edur in the pass. Her doctrine seems to be one of striking first and striking hard. She will set her mages to clearing the wraiths from her path, which will no doubt be telling enough to eliminate the element of surprise.’
‘Is she leading them in person?’
‘She and her retinue departed four days ago,’ the king said.
Brys thought back to that time. ‘The royal visit to her keep at Dissent?’
‘That was the pretext.’
‘Then will Prince Quillas make an effort to join her?’
‘My son has separated his ship from the delegation and now makes for Trate.’
‘To what extent,’ Brys asked, ‘has her battalion made use of the caches in the region?’
‘Knowing her,’ the king snapped, ‘she’s damn near emptied them.’
‘We are hastening to replace the depleted stocks,’ Unnutal Hebaz said. ‘Obviously, we are forced to adjust our tactics as a consequence. We will fight defensively, in keeping with our doctrine, and, yes, the Edur will be expecting that. But we will not roll back. We will not retreat. Once engaged, we intend to maintain that contact. This will be, I believe, a brutal war – perhaps the most vicious war we have fought since conquering Bluerose’s League of Duchies.’
‘Now,’ the king said, ‘I would hear details on the defence of our frontier cities and the Sea of Katter. As well, the disposition of the fleets…’
Brys found the words that followed drifting into a formless murmur somewhere in the background. He was thinking of his brother, marching with the Tiste Edur to wage war on his homeland. On the kingdom that had so cruelly betrayed him. The queen and the prince would want him, desperately… or, at the very least, his head. And through Hull’s crimes, they would seek to strike at Brys, at his position as the king’s protector. They might well send soldiers to round up Tehol as well, on some fabricated pretext. The added pleasure of avenging financial losses incurred as a result of Tehol’s brilliant chaos. They would, in fact, waste little time.
Brys needed to warn Tehol.
The Rat Catchers’ Guild Chief Investigator sat at a courtyard table beneath torchlight. A small heap of delicate bones sat in the centre of the large plate before her. Within reach was a crystal carafe of white wine. An extra goblet waited in front of the empty chair opposite her.
‘You’re not Tehol,’ she said as Bugg arrived and sat down. ‘Where’s Tehol and his immodest trousers?’
‘Not here, alas, Chief Investigator, but you can be certain that, wherever they are, they are together.’
‘Ah, so he has meetings with people more important than me? After all, were he sleeping, he would not be wearing the trousers, would he?’
‘I wouldn’t know, Rucket. Now, you requested this meeting?’
‘With Tehol.’
‘Ah, so this was to be romantic?’
She sniffed and took a moment to glare at the only other occupants of this midnight restaurant, a husband and wife clearly not married to each other who were casting suspicious glances their way, punctuated with close leaning heads and heated whispers. ‘This place serves a specific clientele, damn you. What’s your name again?’
‘Bugg.’
‘Oh yes. I recall being unsurprised the first time it was mentioned. Well, you kept me waiting, you little worm, and what’s that smell?’
Bugg withdrew a blackened, wrinkled strip, flat and slightly longer than his hand. ‘I found an eel in the fish market. Thought I’d make soup for myself and the master.’
‘Our financial adviser eats discarded eels?’
‘Frugality is a virtue among financiers, Chief Investigator.’ He tucked the dried strip back into his shirt. ‘How is the wine? May I?’
‘Well, why not? Here, care to pick the bones?’
‘Possibly. What was it originally?’
‘Cat, of course.’
‘Cat. Oh yes, of course. Well, I never liked cats anyway. All those hair balls.’ He drew the plate over and perused it to see what was left.
‘You have a fascination for feline genitalia? That’s disgusting, although I’ve heard worse. One of our minor catchers once tried to marry a rat. I myself possess peculiar interests, I freely admit.’
‘That’s nice,’ Bugg said, popping a vertebra into his mouth to suck out the marrow.
‘Well, aren’t you curious?’
‘No,’ he said around the bone. ‘Should I be?’
Rucket slowly leaned forward, as if seeing Bugg for the first time. ‘You… interest me now. I freely admit it. Do you want to know why?’
‘Why you freely admit it? All right.’
‘I’m a very open person, all things considered.’
‘Well, I am considering those things, and so consequently admit to being somewhat surprised.’
‘That doesn’t surprise me in the least, Bugg. What are you doing later tonight, and what’s that insect? There, on your shoulder?’
He pulled the vertebra out and reached for another. ‘It’s of the two-headed variety. Very rare, for what I imagine are obvious reasons. I thought my master would like to see it.’
‘So you permit it to crawl all over you?’
‘That would take days. It’s managed to climb from halfway up my arm to my shoulder and that’s taken over a bell.’
‘What a pathetic creature.’
‘I suspect it has difficulty making up its minds.’
‘You’re being funny, aren’t you? I have a thing for funny people. Why don’t you come home with me after you’ve finished there.’
‘Are you sure you don’t have any business to discuss with me? Perhaps some news for Tehol?’
‘Well, there’s a murderous little girl who’s undead, and she’s been killing lots of people, although less so lately. And Gerun Eberict has been far busier than it would outwardly seem.’
‘Indeed? But why would he hide that fact?’
‘Because the killings do not appear to be politically motivated.’
‘Oh? Then what are his motivations?’
‘Hard to tell. We think he just likes killing people.’
‘Well, how many has he killed this past year?’
‘Somewhere between two and three thousand, we think.’
Bugg reached with haste for his goblet. He drank the wine down, then coughed. ‘Errant take us!’
‘So, are you coming home with me or not? I have this cat-fur rug-’
‘Alas, my dear, I have taken a vow of celibacy.’
‘Since when?’
‘Oh, thousands of years… it seems.’
‘I am not surprised. But even more intrigued.’
‘Ah, it’s the lure of the unattainable.’
‘Are you truly unattainable?’
‘Extraordinary, but yes, I am.’
‘What a terrible loss for womanhood.’
‘Now you are being funny.’
‘No, I am being serious, Bugg. I think you are probably a wonderful lover.’
‘Aye,’ he drawled, ‘the very oceans heaved. Can we move on to some other subject? You want any more wine? No? Great.’ He collected the carafe, then drew a flask from under his shirt and began the delicate task of pouring the wine into it.
‘Is that for your eel soup?’
‘Indeed.’
‘What happens now that I’ve decided to like you? Not just like you, I freely admit, but lust after you, Bugg.’
‘I have no idea, Rucket. May I take the rest of these bones?’
‘You certainly may. Would you like me to regurgitate my meal for you as well? I will, you know, for the thought that you will take into you what was previously in me-’
Bugg was waving both hands in the negative. ‘Please, don’t put yourself out for me.’
‘No need to look so alarmed. Bodily functions are a wonderful, indeed sensual, thing. Why, the mere blowing clear of a nose is a potential source of ecstasy, once you grasp its phlegmatic allure.’
‘I’d best be going, Rucket.’ He quickly rose. ‘Have a nice night, Chief Investigator.’ And was gone.
Alone once more, Rucket sighed and leaned back in her chair. ‘Well,’ she sighed contentedly, ‘it’s always been a sure-fire way of getting rid of unwanted company.’ She raised her voice. ‘Servant! More wine, please!’ That bit about clearing the nose was especially good, she decided. She was proud of that one, especially the way she disguised the sudden nausea generated by her own suggestion.
Any man who’d cook that… eel had surely earned eternal celibacy.
Outside the restaurant, Bugg paused to check the contents of his shirt’s many hidden pockets. Flask, eel, cat bones. A successful meeting, after all. Moreover, he was appreciative of her performance. Tehol might well and truly like this one, I think. It was worth considering.
He stood for a moment longer, then allowed himself a soft laugh.
In any case, time to head home.
Tehol Beddict studied the three sad, pathetic women positioned variously in the chamber before him: Shand slumped behind the desk, her shaved pate looking dull and smudged; Rissarh lying down on a hard bench as if meditating on discomfort, her red hair spilled out and hanging almost to the floor; and Hejun, sprawled in a padded chair, refilling her pipe’s bowl, her face looking sickly and wan. ‘My,’ Tehol said with a sigh, his hands on his hips, ‘this is a tragic scene indeed.’
Shand looked up, bleary-eyed. ‘Oh, it’s you.’
‘Hardly the greeting I was anticipating.’ He strode into the room.
‘He’s gone,’ Hejun said, face twisting as she jabbed a taper into the coals of the three-legged brazier at her side. ‘And it’s Shand’s fault.’
‘As much yours as mine,’ Shand retorted. ‘And don’t forget Rissarh! “Oh, Ublala! Carry me around! Carry me around!” Talk about excess!’
‘Ublala’s departure is the cause for all this despond?’ Tehol shook his head. ‘My dears, you did indeed drive him away.’ He paused, then added with great pleasure, ‘Because none of you was willing to make a commitment. A disgusting display of self-serving objectification. Atrocious behaviour by each and every one of you.’
‘All right all right, Tehol,’ Shand muttered. ‘We could have been more… compassionate.’
‘Respectful,’ Rissarh said.
‘Yes,’ Hejun said. ‘How could one not respect Ublala’s-’
‘See?’ Tehol demanded, then flung up his hands. ‘I am led to despair!’
‘You’ll have company here,’ Shand said.
‘He was to have been your bodyguard. That was the intent. Instead, you abused him-’
‘No we didn’t!’ Hejun snapped. ‘Well, only a little. All in good fun, anyway.’
‘And now I have to find you a new bodyguard.’
‘Oh no you don’t,’ Shand said, sitting straighter. ‘Don’t even think it. We’ve been corrupted enough-’
Tehol’s brows rose. ‘In any case,’ he said, ‘Ublala has now found someone who cares deeply for him-’
‘You idiot. She’s dead. She’s incapable of caring.’
‘Not true. Or, rather, there’s something inside her that does care. A lot. My point is, it’s time to get over it. There’s work to be done.’
‘We tried following up on that list you gave us. Half those companies don’t even exist. You tricked us, Tehol. In fact, we think this whole thing is a lie.’
‘What an absurd accusation. Granted, I padded the list somewhat, but only because you seemed to need to stay busy. Besides which, you’re now rich, right? Wealthy beyond your wildest dreams. My investment advice has been perfect thus far. How many money-lending institutions do you now hold interest in?’
‘All the big ones,’ Shand admitted. ‘But not controlling interest-’
‘Wrong. Forty per cent is sufficient and you’ve acquired that.’
‘How is forty per cent enough?’
‘Because I hold twenty. Or, if not me, then my agents, Bugg included. We are poised, dear ladies, to loose chaos upon the Tolls.’
He had their attention now, he saw. Even Rissarh sat up. Eyes fixed upon him, eyes in which the gleam of comprehension was dawning.
‘When?’ Hejun asked.
‘Ah, well. That is entirely another matter. There is news on the wind, which, had any of you been in a proper state, would already be known to you. It seems, my sweet friends, that Lether is at war.’
‘The Tiste Edur?’
‘Indeed.’
‘Perfect!’ Shand barked, thumping the desktop with a fist. ‘We strike now and it’ll all come down!’
‘Likely,’ Tehol said. ‘And also, disastrous. Do you want the Edur to march in and burn everything to the ground?’
‘Why not? It’s all corrupt anyway!’
‘Because, Shand, bad as it is – and we’re all agreed it’s bad – matters can get a whole lot worse. If, for example, the Tiste Edur win this war.’
‘Hold on, Tehol! The plan was to bring about a collapse! But now you’re going back on it. You must be a fool to think the Edur would win this war without our help. No-one wins against Lether. Never have, never will. But if we strike now…’
‘All very well, Shand. For myself, however, I am not convinced the Edur will prove ideal conquerors. As I said, what is to stop them from putting every Letherii to the sword, or enslaving everyone? What’s to stop them from razing every city, every town, every village? It’s one thing to bring down an economy, and so trigger a reformation of sorts, a reconfiguring of values and all that. It’s entirely another to act in a way that exposes the Letherii to genocide.’
‘Why?’ Rissarh demanded. ‘They’ve not hesitated at committing genocide of their own, have they? How many Tarthenal villages were burned to the ground? How many children of the Nerek and the Faraed were spitted on spears, how many dragged into slavery?’
‘Then you would descend to their level, Rissarh? Why emulate the worst behaviours of a culture, when it is those very behaviours that fill you with horror? Revulsion at babes spitted on spears, so you would do the same in return?’ He looked at each of them in turn, but they made no reply. Tehol ran a hand through his hair. ‘Consider the opposite. A hypothetical situation, if you will. Letheras declares a war in the name of liberty and would therefore assert the right of the moral high ground. How would you respond?’
‘With disgust,’ Hejun said, relighting her pipe, face disappearing behind blue clouds.
‘Why?’
‘Because it’s not liberty they want, not the kind of liberty that serves the people in question. Instead, it’s the freedom of Letherii business interests to profit from those people.’
‘And if they act to prevent genocide and tyranny, Hejun?’
‘Then no moral high ground at all, for they have committed their own acts of genocide. As for tyranny, tyrannies are only reprehensible to the Letherii when they do not operate in collusion with Letherii business interests. And, by that definition, they make their claims of honour suspect to everyone else.’
‘All very well. Now, I have considered each and every one of those arguments. And could only conclude one thing: the Letherii, in that situation, are damned if they do and damned if they don’t. In other words, the issue is one of trust. In the past lies the evidence leading one to mistrust. In the present may be seen efforts to reacquire trust, whilst in the future awaits the proof of either one or the other.’
‘This is a hypothetical situation, Tehol,’ Shand said wearily. ‘What is your point?’
‘My point is, nothing is as simple as it might at first seem. And paradigms rarely shift through an act of will. They change as a consequence of chaos, in stumbling over a threshold, and all that is most reprehensible in our nature waits in the wings, eager to invade and so give shape to the reforging of order. It falls to every one of us to be mindful.’
‘What in the Errant’s name are you talking about?’ Shand demanded.
‘What I am saying, Shand, is that we cannot in good conscience trigger a collapse of the Letherii economy right now. Not until we determine how this war is going to play out.’
‘Good conscience? Who cares about that? Our motive was revenge. The Letherii are poised to annihilate yet another people. And I want to get them!’
‘Do not dismiss the Tiste Edur just yet, Shand. Our priority right now must be the secret evacuation of destitute and Indebted Nerek, Faraed and Tarthenal. Out to the islands. To my islands. The rest can wait, should wait, and will wait. Until I say otherwise.’
‘You’re betraying us.’
‘No, I’m not. Nor am I having second thoughts. I am not blind to the underlying motives of greed upon which my civilization is founded, for all its claims of righteous destiny and unassailable integrity.’
‘What makes you think,’ Hejun asked, ‘the Tiste Edur might succeed where everyone else has failed?’
‘Succeed? That word makes me uneasy. Might they prove a difficult and at times devastating enemy? I think they will. Their civilization is old, Hejun. Far older than ours. Their golden age was long, long ago. They exist now in a state of fear, seeing the influence and material imposition of Letheras as a threat, as a kind of ongoing unofficial war of cultures. To the Edur, Lether is a poison, a corrupting influence, and in reaction to that the Edur have become a people entrenched and belligerent. In disgust at what they see ahead of them, they have turned their backs and dream only of what lay behind them. They dream of a return to past glories. Even could the Letherii offer a helping hand, they would view it as an invitation to surrender, and their pride will not permit that. Or, conversely, that hand represents an attack on all they hold dear, and so they will cut it and dance in the blood. The worst scenario I can imagine, for the Edur, is if they win this war. If they somehow conquer us and become occupiers.’
‘Won’t happen, and what if it did? They couldn’t be worse.’
Tehol studied Hejun briefly, then he shrugged. ‘All of this awaits resolution. In the meantime, remain vigilant. There are still things that need doing. What happened to that Nerek mother and her children I sent you?’
‘We shipped them to the islands,’ Shand said. ‘They ate more than she cooked. Started getting fat. It was all very sad.’
‘Well, it’s late and I’m hungry, so I will take my leave now.’
‘What about Ublala?’ Rissarh demanded.
‘What about him?’
‘We want him back.’
‘Too late, I’m afraid. That’s what happens when you won’t commit.’
Tehol quickly made his way out.
Walking the quiet streets back to his abode, Tehol considered his earlier words. He had to admit to himself that he was troubled. There was sufficient mystery in some of the rumours to suggest that the impending war would not be like all the others Letherii had waged. A collision of wills and desires, and beneath it a host of dubious assumptions and suspect sentiments. In that alone, no different from any other war. But in this case, the outcome was far from certain, and even the notion of victory seemed confused and elusive.
He passed through Burl Square and came to the entrance to the warehouse storage area, beyond which was the alley leading to his home. Pausing to push up his lopsided sleeves and cinch tight his trousers, he frowned. Was he losing weight? Hard to know. Wool stretched, after all.
A figure stepped from the nearby shadows of an alley mouth. ‘You’re late.’
Tehol started, then said, ‘For what?’
Shurq Elalle came to within two paces of him. ‘I’ve been waiting. Bugg made soup. Where have you been?’
‘What are you doing out?’ Tehol asked. ‘You’re supposed to be holed up right now. This is dangerous-’
‘I needed to talk to you,’ she cut in. ‘It’s about Harlest.’
‘What about him?’
‘He wants his sharp teeth and talons. It’s all we ever hear. Fangs and talons, fangs and talons. We’re sick of it. Where’s Selush? Why haven’t you made arrangements? You’re treating us like corpses, but even the dead have needs, you know.’
‘Well, no, I didn’t know that. In any case, tell Harlest that Selush is working on this, probably right now in fact. Sharp solutions are forthcoming.’
‘Don’t make me laugh.’
‘Sorry. Are you in need of a refill?’
‘A what?’
‘Well, uh, more herbs and stuff, I mean.’
‘I don’t know. Am I? Do I smell or something?’
‘No. Only of sweet things, Shurq. I assure you.’
‘I am less inspired by your assurances as time goes on, Tehol Beddict.’
‘What a terrible thing to say! Have we stumbled yet?’
‘When is Gerun Eberict returning?’
‘Soon, it turns out. Things should get exciting then.’
‘I am capable of excitement regarding one thing and one thing only, and that has nothing to do with Gerun Eberict. However, I want to steal again. Anything, from whomever. Point me in a direction. Any direction.’
‘Well, there is of course the Tolls Repository. But that’s impregnable, obviously. Or, let’s see, the royal vaults, but again, impossible.’
‘The Tolls. Yes, that sounds challenging.’
‘You won’t succeed, Shurq. No-one ever has, and that includes Green Pig who was a sorceror nearly to rival the Ceda himself-’
‘I knew Green Pig. He suffered from overconfidence.’
‘And was torn limb from limb as a result.’
‘What do you want stolen from the Tolls Repository?’
‘Shurq-’
‘What?’
Tehol glanced round. ‘All right. I want to find out which lender holds the largest royal debt. The king has been borrowing prodigiously, and not just to finance the Eternal Domicile. So, who and how much. Same for Queen Janall. And whatever she’s done in her son’s name.’
‘Is that all? No gold? No diamonds?’
‘That’s right. No gold, no diamonds, and no evidence left behind that anyone was ever in there.’
‘I can do that.’
‘No you can’t. You’ll get caught. And dismembered.’
‘Oh, that will hurt.’
‘Maybe not, but it’ll prove inconvenient.’
‘I won’t get caught, Tehol Beddict. Now, what did you want from the royal vaults?’
‘A tally.’
‘You want to know the present state of the treasury.’
‘Yes.’
‘I can do that.’
‘No you can’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because you’ll have been dismembered by then.’
‘Thus permitting me to slip into places where I otherwise wouldn’t fit.’
‘Shurq, they take your head off too, you know. It’s the last thing they do.’
‘Really? That’s barbaric’
‘Like I said, you would be greatly inconvenienced.’
‘I would at that. Well, I shall endeavour to be careful. Mind you, even a head can count.’
‘What would you have me do, break in and lob your head into the vaults? Tied to a rope so I can pull you out again when you’re done?’
‘That sounds somewhat problematic.’
‘It does, doesn’t it?’
‘Can’t you plan any better than that, Tehol Beddict? My faith in you is fast diminishing.’
‘Can’t be helped, I suppose. What’s this I hear about you purchasing a seagoing vessel?’
‘That was supposed to be a secret. Bugg said he wouldn’t tell-’
‘He didn’t. I have my own sources of intelligence, especially when the owner of the vessel just sold happens to be me. Indirectly, of course.’
‘All right. Me and Ublala and Harlest, we want to be pirates.’
‘Don’t make me laugh, Shurq.’
‘Now you’re being cruel.’
‘Sorry. Pirates, you say. Well, all three of you are notoriously hard to drown. Might work at that.’
‘Your confidence and well-wishing overwhelms me.’
‘And when do you plan on embarking on this new venture?’
‘When you’re done with us, of course.’
Tehol tugged up his trousers again. ‘Yet another edifying conversation with you, Shurq. Now, I smell something that might well be soup, and you need to go back to your crypt.’
‘Sometimes I really hate you.’
He led her by the hand down the shallow, crumbling steps. She liked these journeys, even though the places he took her were strange and often… disturbing. This time, they descended an inverted stepped pyramid – at least that was what he called it. Four sides to the vast, funnelled pit, and at the base there was a small square of darkness.
The air was humid enough to leave droplets on her bare arms. Far overhead, the sky was white and formless. She did not know if it was hot – memories of such sensations had begun to fade, along with so many other things.
They reached the base of the pit and she looked up at the tall, pale figure at her side. His face was becoming more visible, less blurred. It looked handsome, but hard. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said after a moment, ‘that she’s got you by the ankles.’
‘We all have our burdens, Kettle.’
‘Where are we?’
‘You have no recognition of this place?’
‘No. Maybe.’
‘Let us continue down, then.’
Into the darkness, three rungs to a landing, then a spiral staircase of black stone.
‘Round and round,’ Kettle said, giggling.
A short while later they came to the end, the stairs opening out onto a sprawling, high-ceilinged chamber. The gloom was no obstacle to Kettle, nor, she suspected, to her companion. She could see a ragged mound heaped against the far wall to their right, and made to move towards it, but his hand drew her back.
‘No, lass. Not there.’
He led her instead directly ahead. Three doorways, each one elaborately arched and framed with reverse impressions of columns. Between them, the walls displayed deeply carved images.
‘As you can see,’ he said, ‘there is a reversal of perspective. That which is closest is carved deepest. There is significance to all this.’
‘Where are we?’
‘To achieve peace, destruction is delivered. To give the gift of freedom, one promises eternal imprisonment. Adjudication obviates the need for justice. This is a studied, deliberate embrace of diametric opposition. It is a belief in balance, a belief asserted with the conviction of religion. But in this case, the proof of a god’s power lies not in the cause but in the effect. Accordingly, in this world and in all others, proof is achieved by action, and therefore all action – including the act of choosing inaction – is inherently moral. No deed stands outside the moral context. At the same time, the most morally perfect act is the one taken in opposition to what has occurred before.’
‘What do the rooms look like through those openings?’
‘In this civilization,’ he continued, ‘its citizens were bound to acts of utmost savagery. Vast cities were constructed beneath the world’s surface. Each chamber, every building, assembled as the physical expression of the quality of absence. Solid rock matched by empty space. From these places, where they did not dwell, but simply gathered, they set out to achieve balance.’
It seemed he would not lead her through any of the doorways, so she fixed her attention instead on the images. ‘There are no faces.’
‘The opposite of identity, yes, Kettle.’
‘The bodies look strange.’
‘Physically unique. In some ways more primitive, but as a consequence less… specialized, and so less constrained. Profoundly long-lived, more so than any other species. Very difficult to kill, and, it must be said, they needed to be killed. Or so was the conclusion reached after any initial encounter with them. Most of the time. They did fashion the occasional alliance. With the Jaghut, for example. But that was yet another tactic aimed at reasserting balance, and it ultimately failed. As did this entire civilization.’
Kettle swung round to study that distant heap of… something. ‘Those are bodies, aren’t they?’
‘Bones. Scraps of clothing, the harnesses they wore.’
‘Who killed them?’
‘You had to understand, Kettle. The one within you must understand. My refutation of the Forkrul Assail belief in balance is absolute. It is not that I am blind to the way in which force is ever countered, the way in which the natural world strains towards balance. But in that striving I see no proof of a god’s power; I see no guiding hand behind such forces. And, even if one such existed, I see no obvious connection with the actions of a self-chosen people for whom chaos is the only rational response to order. Chaos needs no allies, for it dwells like a poison in every one of us. The only relevant struggle for balance I acknowledge is that within ourselves. Externalizing it presumes inner perfection, that the internal struggle is over, victory achieved.’
‘You killed them.’
‘These ones here, yes. As for the rest, no. I was too late arriving and my freedom too brief for that. In any case, but a few enclaves were left by that time. My draconic kin took care of that task, since no other entity possessed the necessary power. As I said, they were damned hard to kill.’
Kettle shrugged, and she heard him sigh.
‘There are places, lass, where Forkrul Assail remain. Imprisoned for the most part, but ever restless. Even more disturbing, in many of those places they are worshipped by misguided mortals.’ He hesitated, then said, ‘You have no idea, Kettle, of the extremity the Azath tower found itself in. To have chosen a soul such as yours… it was like reaching into the heart of the enemy camp. I wonder if, in its last moments, it knew regret. Misgivings. Mother knows, I do.’
‘What is this soul you are talking about?’
‘Perhaps it sought to use the soul’s power without fully awakening it. We will never know. But you are loose upon the world now. Shaped to fight as a soldier in the war against chaos. Can that fundamental conflict within you be reconciled? Your soul, lass? It is Forkrul Assail.’
‘So you have brought me home?’
His hand betrayed his sudden flinch. ‘You were also a mortal human child, once. And there is a mystery in that. Who birthed you? Who took away your life, and why? Was all this in preparation for your corpse to house the Assail soul? If that is the case, then the Azath tower was either deceived by someone capable of communicating with it, or it had in truth nothing at all to do with the creation of you as you now are. But that makes no sense – why would the Azath lie to me?’
‘It said you were dangerous.’
He was silent for some time. Then, ‘Ah, you are to kill me once I have vanquished the other entombed creatures.’
‘The tower is dead,” Kettle said. ‘I don’t have to do anything it told me. Do I?’ She looked up and found him studying her.
‘What path will you choose, child?’
She smiled. ‘Your path. Unless you’re bad. I’ll be very angry if you’re bad.’
‘I am pleased, Kettle. Best that you stay close to me, assuming we succeed in what we must do.’
‘I understand. You may have to destroy me.’
‘Yes. If I can.’
She gestured with her free hand at the heap of bones. ‘I don’t think you’ll have much trouble.’
‘Let us hope it doesn’t come to that. Let us hope the soul within you does not entirely awaken.’
‘It won’t. That’s why none of this matters.’
‘What makes you so certain, Kettle?’
‘The tower told me.’
‘It did? What did it say to you? Try to recall its exact words.’
‘It never spoke with words. It just showed me things. My body, all wrapped up. People were crying. But I could see through the gauze. I’d woken up. I was seeing everything with two sets of eyes. It was very strange. One set behind the wrappings, the other standing nearby.’
‘What else did Azath show you?’
‘Those eyes from the outside. There were five others. We were just standing in the street, watching the family carrying the body. My body. Six of us. We’d walked a long way, because of the dreams. We’d been in the city for weeks, waiting for the Azath to choose someone. But I wasn’t the same as the five others, though we were here for the same reason, and we’d travelled together. They were Nerek witches, and they’d prepared me. The me on the outside, not the me all wrapped up.’
‘The you on the outside, Kettle, were you a child?’
‘Oh no. I was tall. Not as tall as you. And I had to wear my hood up, so no-one could see how different I was. I’d come from very far away. I’d walked, when I was young, hot sands – the sands that covered the First Empire. Whatever that is.’
‘What did the Nerek witches call you? Had you a name?’
‘No.’
‘A title?’
She shrugged. ‘I’d forgotten all this. They called me the Nameless One. Is this important?’
‘I think it is, Kettle. Although I am not sure in what way. Much of this realm remains unknown to me. It was very young when I was imprisoned. You are certain this “Nameless One” was an actual title? Not just something the Nerek used because they didn’t know your true name?’
‘It was a title. They said I’d been prepared from birth. That I was a true child of Eres. And that I was the answer to the Seventh Closure, because I had the blood of kin. “The blood of kin.” What did they mean by that?’
‘When I am finally free,’ he said in a voice revealing strain, ‘I will be able to physically touch you, Kettle. My fingers upon your brow. And then I will have your answer.’
‘I guess this Eres was my real mother.’
‘Yes.’
‘And soon you will know who my father is.’
‘I will know his blood, yes. At the very least.’
‘I wonder if he’s still alive.’
‘Knowing how Eres plays the game, lass, he might not even be your father yet. She wanders time, Kettle, in a manner no-one else can even understand, much less emulate. And this is very much her world. She is the fire that never dies.’ He paused, then said, ‘She will choose – or has chosen – with great deliberation. Your father was, is, or will be someone of great importance.’
‘So how many souls are in me?’
‘Two, sharing the flesh and bone of a child corpse. Lass, we shall have to find a way to get you out of that body, eventually.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you deserve something better.’
‘I want to go back. Will you take me back now?’
‘I’ve given up on the eel itself,’ Bugg said, ladling out the soup. ‘It’s still too tough.’
‘None the less, my dear manservant, it smells wonderful.’
‘That would be the wine. Courtesy of Chief Investigator Rucket, whose request for a meeting with you was for purposes not entirely professional.’
‘And how did you fare on my behalf?’
‘I ensured that her interest in you only deepened, master.’
‘By way of contrast?’
‘Indeed.’
‘Well, is that a good thing? I mean, she’s rather frightening.’
‘You don’t know the half of it. Even so, she is exceptionally clever.’
‘Oh, I don’t like that at all, Bugg. You know, I am tasting something fishy. A hint, anyway. Just how dried up was this eel you found?’
The manservant probed with his ladle and lifted the mentioned object into view. Black, wrinkled and not nearly as limp as it should have been.
Tehol leaned closer and studied it for a moment. ‘Bugg…’
‘Yes, master?’
‘That’s the sole of a sandal.’
‘It is? Oh. I was wondering why it was flatter at one end than the other.’
Tehol settled back and took another sip. ‘Still fishy, though. One might assume the wearer, being in the fish market, stepped on an eel, before the loss of his or her sole.’
‘I am mildly disturbed by the thought of what else he or she might have stepped in.’
‘There are indeed complexities on the palate, suggesting a varied and lengthy history. Now, how was your day and the subsequent evening?’
‘Uneventful. Rucket informs me that Gerun Eberict has killed about three thousand citizens this year.’
‘Three thousand? That seems somewhat excessive.’
‘I thought so, too, master. More soup?’
‘Yes, thank you. So, what is his problem, do you think?’
‘Gerun’s? A taste for blood, I’d wager.’
‘As simple as that? How egregious. We’ll have to do something about it, I think.’
‘And how was your day and evening, master?’
‘Busy. Exhausting, even.’
‘You were on the roof?’
‘Yes, mostly. Although, as I recall, I came down here once. Can’t remember why. Or, rather, I couldn’t at the time, so I went back up.’
Bugg tilted his head. ‘Someone’s approaching our door.’ The sound of boots in the alley, the faint whisper of armour. ‘My brother, I’d hazard,’ Tehol said, then, turning to face the curtained doorway, he raised his voice. ‘Brys, do come in.’
The hanging was pulled aside and Brys entered. ‘Well, that is an interesting smell,’ he said.
‘Sole soup,’ Tehol said. ‘Would you like some?’
‘No, thank you. I have already eaten, it being well after the second bell. I trust you have heard the rumours.’
‘The war?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ve heard hardly a thing,’ Tehol said.
Brys hesitated, glancing at Bugg, then he sighed. ‘A new emperor has emerged to lead the Tiste Edur. Tehol, Hull has sworn his allegiance to him.’
‘Now, that is indeed unfortunate.’
‘Accordingly, you are at risk.’
‘Arrest?’
‘No, more likely assassination. All in the name of patriotism.’
Tehol set his bowl down. ‘It occurs to me, Brys, that you are more at risk than I am.’
‘I am well guarded, brother, whilst you are not.’
‘Nonsense! I have Bugg!’
The manservant looked up at Brys with a bland smile.
‘Tehol, this is not time for jokes-’
‘Bugg resents that!’
‘I do?’
‘Well, don’t you? I would, if I were you-’
‘It seems you just were.’
‘My apologies for making you speak out of turn, then.’
‘Speaking on your behalf, master, I accept.’
‘You are filled with relief-’
‘Will you two stop it!’ Brys shouted, throwing up his hands. He began pacing the small confines of the room. ‘The threat is very real. Agents of the queen will not hesitate. You are both in very grave danger.’
‘But how will killing me change the fact of Hull forsaking our homeland?’
‘It won’t, of course. But your history, Tehol, makes you a hated man. The queen’s investments suffered thanks to you, and she’s not the type to forgive and forget.’
‘Well, what do you suggest, Brys?’
‘Stop sleeping on your roof, for one. Let me hire a few bodyguards-’
‘A few? How many are you thinking?’
‘Four, at least.’
‘One.’
‘One?’
‘One. No more than that. You know how I dislike crowds, Brys.’
‘Crowds? You’ve never disliked crowds, Tehol.’
‘I do now.’
Brys glowered, then sighed. ‘All right. One.’
‘And that will make you happy, then? Excellent-’
‘No more sleeping on your roof.’
‘I’m afraid, brother, that won’t be possible.’
‘Why not?’
Tehol gestured. ‘Look at this place! It’s a mess! Besides, Bugg snores. And we’re not talking mild snoring, either. Imagine being chained to the floor of a cave, with the tide crashing in, louder, louder, louder-’
‘I have in mind three guards, all brothers,’ Brys said, ‘who can spell each other. One will therefore always be with you, even when you’re sleeping on your roof.’
‘So long as they don’t snore-’
‘They won’t be asleep, Tehol! They’ll be standing guard!’
‘All right. Calm down. I am accepting, aren’t I? Now, how about some soup, just to tide you over until you break your fast?’
Brys glanced at the pot. ‘There’s wine in it, isn’t there?’
‘Indeed. Only the best, at that.’
‘Fine. Half a bowl.’
Tehol and Bugg exchanged pleased smiles.