A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 2

were rewarded in a single night. And the First Child of the Dead Seed was gifted to the mortal world nine months later. That child has now come of age, an event that has triggered a renewed burgeoning of the Faith – a second Embrasure has occurred, under the command of the First Child, Anaster. You shall see him now – his mother at his side – leading his newfound Tenescowri. A war awaits them far to the north – the faithless city of Capustan must be rewarded.'
    'Holy ones,' Lady Envy said, raising her voice to be heard over the growing roar of chanting voices, 'please forgive my ignorance. A Child of the Dead Seed – what precisely is that?'
    'The moment of reward among the male unbelievers, mistress, is often marked by an involuntary spilling of life-seed ... and continues after life has fled. At this moment, with a corpse beneath her, a woman may ride and so take within her a dead man's seed. The children that are thus born are the holiest of the Seer's kin. Anaster is the first to reach his age.'
    'That is,' Lady Envy said, 'extraordinary ...'
    Toc saw her face sickly pale for the first time in his memory.
    'The Seer's gift, mistress. A Child of the Dead Seed bears the visible truth of death's kiss of life – proof of the Reward itself. We know that foreigners fear death. The Faithful do not.'
    Toc cleared his throat, leaned close to the priest. 'Once these Tenescowri leave Bastion ... is there anyone else still breathing in the city?'
    'Embrasure is absolute, sir.'
    'In other words, those who did not succumb to the fever have been ... rewarded.'
    'Indeed.'
    'And then eaten.'
    'The Tenescowri have needs.'
    Conversation ended then as the leading edge of a mass of humanity poured from the main avenue and began spreading to fill the square. A young man was in the lead, the only person mounted, his horse an aged roan draught animal with a bowed spine and botfly sores on its neck. As the youth rode forward, his head whipped suddenly to where Toc and the others stood. He stabbed a long, thin arm in their direction and shrieked.
    The cry was wordless, yet it was understood by his followers. Hundreds of faces swung to look upon the strangers, then surged towards them.
    'Oh,' Lady Envy said.
    The second priest flinched back. 'Alas, our protection is insufficient. Prepare for your reward, strangers!' And with that, the three acolytes fled.
    Lady Envy raised her hands, and was suddenly flanked by two huge beasts. Both flowed in a blur to greet the mob. Suddenly, blood and bodies spilled onto the flagstones.
    The Seguleh pushed past Toc. Senu stopped at Envy's side. 'Awaken our brother!' he shouted.
    'Agreed,' she said. 'No doubt Tool is about to appear as well, but I suspect they will find themselves too busy to contest each other.'
    Leather straps snapped as Mok seemed to fling himself upright, weapons already in his hands.
    And here I am, all but forgotten. Toc reached a decision. 'Have fun, all of you,' he said, backing up the side street.
    As the ay and the hound chewed through the screaming mass, Lady Envy spun, eyes wide. 'What? Where are you going?'
    'I've embraced the Faith,' he called out. 'This mob's heading straight for the Malazan Army – though it doesn't know it yet! And I'm going with it!'
    'Toc, listen! We shall obliterate this pathetic army and that pale runt leading them! There is no need—'
    'Don't wipe them out! Please, Envy. Carve your way clear, yes, but I need them.'
    'But—'
    'No time! I've decided. With Oponn's luck we'll meet again – go find your answers, Envy. I've got friends to find!'
    'Wait—'
    With a final wave, Toc whirled and ran down the street.
    A concussive blast of sorcery threw him forward, but he did not turn. Envy was letting loose. Hood knows, she might even have just lost her temper. Gods, leave some of them standing, lass...
    He swung right at the first intersection he came to, and found himself plunging into the midst of screaming peasants, pushing like him towards the city's main artery, where flowed the mass of the Faithful. He added his screams – wordless, the sounds that a mute man might make – and clawed with mindless zeal.
    Like a leaf on a wide, deep river . . .

CHAPTER TEN
    Mother Dark begat three children,
the First, Tiste Andii, were her dearest,
dwellers of the land before Light.
Then were birthed in pain the Second, Tiste Lians,
the burning glory of Light itself,
and so the First denied their Mother,
in their fury, and so were cast out,
doomed