A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 2

left his hands on the tabletop, their tremble would have been obvious.
    Behind him, the Mortal Sword paced.
    Itkovian and two wings rode the plain to the west, and something had happened. Concern echoed in every restless step at the Destriant's back.
    The prince of Capustan's eyes were squeezed shut, fingers kneading his temples beneath the circlet of cold-hammered copper that was his crown. Twenty-two years old, his lined, drawn face could have belonged to a man of forty. His shaved pate revealed the scatter of moles that marked his royal line, as if he had been sprayed in blood that had since dried and grown dark. After a long sigh, the prince spoke. 'The Mask Council will not be swayed, Mortal Sword. They insist that their Gidrath occupy the outlying strongpoints.'
    'Those fortifications will become isolated once the siege begins, Prince,' Brukhalian rumbled.
    'I know. We both know. Isolated, dismantled, every soldier within slaughtered ... then raped. The priests fancy themselves master strategists in warfare. A religious war, after all. The temples' own elite warriors must strike the first blows.'
    'No doubt they will,' Brukhalian said. 'And little else.'
    'And little else. Perhaps corridors, a series of sorties to effect a withdrawal—'
    'Costing yet more lives, Prince, and likely to fail. My soldiers will not be party to suicide. And please, do not attempt to impose your will on me in this. We are contracted to hold the city. In our judgement, the best means of doing so are with maintaining the walls. The redoubts have always been a liability – they will serve the enemy better than they will serve us, as headquarters, defensible rallying positions. The Gidrath will be handing them fortifications in the killing ground. Once siege weapons are stationed there, we shall suffer ceaseless bombardment.'
    'The Mask Council does not expect the strongpoints to fall, Mortal Sword. Nailed to that particular belief, all your stated fears are irrelevant, as far as they are concerned.'
    There was silence, apart from Brukhalian's uncharacteristic pacing. The prince looked up finally, brown eyes following the Mortal Sword's catlike padding. Jelarkan frowned, then sighed and pushed himself to his feet. 'I need leverage, Mortal Sword. Find it for me, and quickly.' He swung about and strode to the chamber's doors, where waited his two bodyguards.
    As soon as the massive doors closed behind the prince, Brukhalian spun to Karnadas. 'Do they continue to draw on your powers, sir?'
    The Destriant shook his head. 'Not for some time, now, since shortly after the prince's unexpected visit. In any case, sir, they have taken all I possess, and it will be days before I fully recover.'
    Brukhalian released a long, slow breath. 'Well, the risk of a skirmish was recognized. From this, we must conclude that the Pannion has sent forces across the river. The question is, how many?'
    'Sufficient to maul two wings, it seems.'
    'Then Itkovian should have avoided engagement.'
    Karnadas studied the Mortal Sword. 'Unworthy, sir. The Shield Anvil understands caution. If avoidance was possible, he would have done so.'
    'Aye,' Brukhalian growled. 'I know.'
    Voices at the compound's outer gates reached through to the two men. Hooves clapped on the cobbles.
    Sudden tension filled the chamber, yet neither man spoke.
    The doors swung open and they turned to see Itkovian's outrider, Sidlis. The soldier took two steps into the room, then halted and tilted her head. 'Mortal Sword. Destriant. I bring word from the Shield Anvil.'
    'You have seen battle, sir,' Brukhalian murmured.
    'We have. A moment, sirs.' Sidlis swung about and softly shut the doors. She faced the commander and priest. 'Demonic servants of the Pannion Seer are present on the plain,' she said. 'We came upon one and closed with it. The tactics employed should have sufficed, and the damage we delivered was severe and flawlessly executed. The beast, however, was undead – an animated corpse, and this discovery came too late for disengagement. It was virtually impervious to the wounds we delivered. Nevertheless, we succeeded in destroying the demon, though at great cost.'
    'Outrider Sidlis,' Karnadas said, 'the battle you describe must have occurred some time past – else you would not be here – yet the demands on my powers of healing have but just ended.'
    Sidlis frowned. 'The survivors of the engagement did not require a drawing of your powers, sir. If I may, I will complete the tale, and