A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 2

credence to the tales, then,' Gruntle said. 'If such an event occurred, then what in Hood's name happened to it?'
    'We wondered the same, Captain. We are strangers to this continent. Until recently, we'd never heard of the Malazan Empire, nor the wondrous city called Darujhistan. During our all too brief stay there, however, we heard stories of events just past. Demons, dragons, assassins. And the Azath house named Finnest, which cannot be entered yet, seems to be occupied none the less – we paid that a visit, of course. More, we'd heard tales of a floating fortress, called Moon's Spawn, that once hovered over the city—'
    'Aye, I'd seen that with my own eyes. It left a day before I did.'
    Bauchelain sighed. 'Alas, it appears we have come too late to witness for ourselves these dire wonders. A Tiste Andii lord rules Moon's Spawn, I gather.'
    Gruntle shrugged. 'If you say so. Personally, I dislike gossip.'
    Finally, the man's eyes hardened.
    The captain smiled inwardly.
    'Gossip. Indeed.'
    'This is what you wanted to show me, then? This ... hole?'
    Bauchelain raised an eyebrow. 'Not precisely. This hole is but the entrance. We intend to visit the Jaghut tomb that lies below it.'
    'Oponn's blessing to you, then,' Gruntle said, turning away.
    'I imagine,' the man said behind him, 'that your master would urge you to accompany us.'
    'He can urge all he likes,' the captain replied. 'I wasn't contracted to sink in a pool of mud.'
    'We've no intention of getting covered in mud.'
    Gruntle glanced back at him, crooked a wry grin. 'A figure of speech, Bauchelain. Apologies if you misunderstood.' He swung round again and made his way towards the trail. Then he stopped. 'You wanted to see Moon's Spawn, sirs?' He pointed.
    Like a towering black cloud, the basalt fortress stood just above the south horizon.
    Boots crunched on the ragged gravel, and Gruntle found himself standing between the two men, both of whom studied the distant floating mountain.
    'Scale,' Bauchelain muttered, 'is difficult to determine. How far away is it?'
    'I'd guess a league, maybe more. Trust me, sirs, it's close enough for my tastes. I've walked its shadow in Darujhistan – hard not to for a while there – and believe me, it's not a comforting feeling.'
    'I imagine not. What is it doing here?'
    Gruntle shrugged. 'Seems to be heading southeast—'
    'Hence the tilt.'
    'No. It was damaged over Pale. By mages of the Malazan Empire.'
    'Impressive effort, these mages.'
    'They died for it. Most of them, anyway. So I heard. Besides, while they managed to damage Moon's Spawn, its lord remains hale. If you want to call kicking a hole in a fence before getting obliterated by the man who owns the house "impressive", go right ahead.'
    Korbal Broach finally spoke, his voice reedy and high-pitched. 'Bauchelain, does he sense us?'
    His companion frowned, eyes still on Moon's Spawn, then shook his head. 'I detect no such attention accorded us, friend. But that is a discussion that should await a more private moment.'
    'Very well. You don't want me to kill this caravan guard, then?'
    Gruntle stepped away in alarm, half drawing his cutlasses. 'You'll regret the attempt,' he growled.
    'Be calmed, Captain.' Bauchelain smiled. 'My partner has simple notions—'
    'Simple as an adder's, you mean.'
    'Perhaps. None the less, I assure you, you are perfectly safe.'
    Scowling, Gruntle backed away down the trail. 'Master Keruli,' he whispered, 'if you're watching all this – and I think you are – I trust my bonus will be appropriately generous. And, if my advice is worth anything, I suggest we stride clear and wide of these two.'
    Moments before he moved beyond sight of the crater, he saw Bauchelain and Korbal Broach turn their backs on him – and Moon's Spawn. They stared down into the hole for a brief span, then began the descent, disappearing from view.
    Sighing, Gruntle swung about and made his way back to the camp, rolling his shoulders to release the tension that gripped him.
    As he reached the road his gaze lifted once more, south-ward to find Moon's Spawn, hazy now with distance. 'You there, lord, I wish you had caught the scent of Bauchelain and Korbal Broach, so you'd do to them what you did to the Jaghut Tyrant – assuming you had a hand in that. Preventative medicine, the cutters call it. I only pray we don't all one day come to regret your disinterest.'
    Walking down the road, he glanced over to see Emancipor Reese, sitting atop the carriage, one hand stroking