A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 1

with iron bars wrapped in a cage around the skullcap. Chain camails protected their necks and shoulders. The other footmen consisted of marines and sappers, the former a combination of heavy infantry and shock troops – the old Emperor's invention and still unique to the Empire. They were armed with crossbows and short swords as well as long swords. They wore blackened chain beneath grey leathers. Every third soldier carried a large, round shield of thick, soft wood that would be soaked for an hour before battle. These shields were used to catch and hold enemy weapons ranging from swords to flails. They would be discarded after the first few minutes of a fight, usually studded with an appalling array of edged and spiked iron. This peculiar tactic of the Seventh had proved effective against the Semk and their undisciplined, two-handed fighting methods. The marines called it puffing teeth.
    The sappers' encampment was set somewhat apart from the others – as far away as possible when they carried Moranth munitions. Though he looked, Duiker could not see its location, but he knew well what he'd find. Look for the most disordered collection of tents and foul-smelling vapours aswarm with mosquitoes and gnats and you'll have found Malazan Engineers. And in that quarter you'll find soldiers shaking like leaves, with splash-bum pockmarks, singed hair and a dark, manic gleam in their eyes.
    Corporal List stood with Captain Lull at one end of the Marine encampment, close to the attachment of loyal Hissari Guards – whose soldiers were readying their tulwars and round shields in grim silence. Coltaine held them in absolute trust, and the Seven Cities natives had proved themselves again and again with fanatic ferocity – as if they had assumed a burden of shame and guilt and could only relieve it by slaughtering every one of their traitorous kin.
    Captain Lull smiled as the historian joined them. 'Got a cloth for your face? We'll be eating dust today, old man, in plenty.'
    'We will be the back end of the wedge, sir,' List said, looking none too pleased.
    'I'd rather swallow dust than a yard of cold iron,' Duiker said. 'Do we know what we're facing yet, Lull?'
    'That's "Captain" to you.'
    'As soon as you stop calling me "old man", I'll start calling you by your rank.'
    'I was jesting, Duiker,' Lull said. 'Call me what you like, and that includes pig-headed bastard if it pleases you.'
    'It just might.'
    Lull's face twisted sourly. 'Didn't get any sleep, did you?' He swung to List. 'If the old codger starts nodding off, you've my permission to give him a clout on that bashed-up helmet of his, Corporal.'
    'If I can stay awake myself, sir. This good cheer is wearing me out.'
    Lull grimaced at Duiker. 'The lad's showing spark these days.'
    'Isn't he just.'
    The sun was burning clear of the horizon. Pale-winged birds flitted over the humped hills to the north. Duiker glanced down at his boots. The morning dew had seeped through the worn leather. Strands of snagged spiderwebs made a stretched, glittering pattern over the toes. He found it unaccountably beautiful. Gossamer webs . . . intricate traps. Yet it was my thoughtless passage that left the night's work undone. Will the spiders go hungry this day because of it?
    'Shouldn't dwell on what's to come,' Lull said.
    Duiker smiled, looked up at the sky. 'What's the order?'
    'The Seventh's marines are the spear's point. Crow riders to either side are the flanking barbs. Foolish Dog – now a Toggthundering heavy cavalry – are the weight behind the marines. Then come the wounded, protected on all sides by the Seventh's infantry. Taking up the tail are the Hissari Loyals and the Seventh's cavalry.'
    Duiker was slow to react, then he blinked and faced the captain.
    Lull nodded. 'The refugees and herds are being held back, this side of the valley but slightly south, on a low shelf of land the maps call the Shallows, with a ridge of hills south of that. The Weasel Clan guards them. It's the safest thing to do – that clan's turned dark and nasty since Sekala. Their horse-warriors have all filed their teeth, if you can believe that.'
    'We go to this battle unencumbered,' the historian said.
    'Excepting the wounded, aye.'
    Captains Sulmar and Chenned emerged from the infantry encampment. Sulmar's posture and expression radiated outrage, Chenned's was mocking if slightly bemused.
    'Blood and guts!' Sulmar hissed, his greased moustache bristling. 'Those damned sappers and their Hood-spawned