A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 1

His gaze slid across to a man sitting at Kruppe's table. He almost had to take a second look, so nondescript was he. Then Rallick strode straight for him, the crowd parting as he went – something he'd never noticed before. Amused, he held his eyes on the stranger until he was noticed. They locked gazes, though the man made no move other than to take a sip from his tankard then set it down carefully on the table.
    Rallick pulled out a chair and dragged it opposite. 'I'm Rallick Nom.'
    There was something solid about this person, a kind of assurance that was calming. Rallick felt himself relaxing in spite of his habitual caution. The man's first words changed that, however.
    'The Eel has a message for you,' he said quietly. 'Direct, by word of mouth only. Before I deliver it, though, I'm to give you some background – as only I can.' He paused to drink from the tankard, then resumed. 'Now, Turban Orr has hired another dozen hunters. What are they hunting? Well, me, for one. Your problem is that he's going to be harder to reach. The Eel approves of your efforts concerning Lady Simtal. Coil's return is desired by all who value integrity and honour within the Council. If you require anything, ask now and it's yours.'
    Rallick's eyes had hardened. 'Never knew Murillio had such a big mouth,' he said.
    The man shook his head. 'Your compatriot has revealed nothing. Nor have you. It is the Eel's business. Now, what do you require?'
    'Nothing.'
    'Good.' The stranger nodded, as if he'd expected that reply and was pleased. 'Incidentally, Turban Orr's efforts to pass the proclamation have been ... impeded. Indefinitely. The Eel wishes to thank you for your unwitting role in that. Nevertheless, the councilman explores other options. He has been watched closely. Hence our fortunate discovery that is at the heart of the Eel's message to you. Last night, beneath Despot's Barbican, Turban Orr met with a representative of the Assassins' Guild – how he managed that was quite a feat, considering how difficult your comrades have been to find. In any case, a contract was tendered by Turban Orr.' The man waited for the shock to wear off Rallick's face, then continued. 'Tendered by Turban Orr, as I said, but not on his own behalf. Rather, Lady Simtal has decided that Coil's death should be a fact in the real world as it is on paper.'
    'Who?' Rallick rasped. 'Who was the contact?'
    'I'm coming to that. First, it was accepted, for the payment was substantial. They are aware that Coll is presently outside Darujhistan. They simply await his return.'
    'The assassin's name.'
    'Ocelot.' The man rose. 'The Eel wishes you success in all your ventures, Rallick Nom. Thus the message ends. Good evening.' He turned to leave.
    'Wait.'
    'Yes?'
    'Thank you,' Rallick said.
    The stranger smiled, then left.
    The assassin took the man's seat, and leaned against the wall. He waved at Sulty, who had a pitcher of ale and a tankard waiting. She hurried over. Behind her strode, at a more leisurely pace, Irilta and Meese. They sat down without preamble, each with her own tankard.
    'Everybody's still breathing,' Irilta said, raising her drink. 'And here's t' that.'
    Meese lifted hers as well and the two women drank deep. Then Meese bent forward. 'Any word of Kruppe and the boy?'
    Rallick shook his head. 'I may not be here when they come back,' he said. 'Tell Murillio to go ahead if I don't show, and if other ... events occur. And, if that happens, tell him our man's eyes are open.' Rallick filled his tankard and drained it immediately. Then he rose. 'Don't wish me luck,' he said.
    'How about success?' Meese asked, a worried expression on her broad face.
    Rallick jerked his head in a nod. Then he left the inn.
     
    Anomander Rake was hiding something. Baruk was certain of it as he stared moodily into the fireplace. In his right hand was a goblet of goat's milk, and in his left a large fragment of Daru flatbread. Why had the Tiste Andii permitted the Imass to enter the barrow? He'd asked that question already of the Lord sitting beside him, but an answer didn't seem forthcoming. Instead, all the alchemist got from Rake was that irritating smugness. Baruk took a bite from the flatbread, the crack loud between them.
    Rake stretched out his legs and sighed. 'An odd hour to dine,' he said.
    'All my hours have been odd, lately,' Baruk said, around the bread. He drank a mouthful of milk.
    'I'd no idea that both the Shadow Lord and Oponn had become involved in affairs,'