A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 2

to see, standing ten paces behind him, a huge Barghast warchief in coin-threaded armour.
    'They can wait a while longer,' Humbrall Taur growled. 'I would witness this.'
    Paran grimaced. 'Nosy bastard—'
    'Aye.'
    The Malazan returned his attention to Itkovian and made to speak, but the Shield Anvil interrupted him: 'A moment, sir.' He stepped past the two men.
    Rath'Fener jerked and twisted in the grip of his fellow priests. His mask was awry, wisps of grey hair pulled free of the leather strapping. 'Shield Anvil!' he cried upon seeing Itkovian's approach. 'In the name of Fener—'
    'In his name, aye, sir,' Itkovian cut in. 'To my side, Captain Norul. The Reve's law is invoked.'
    'Sir,' the grizzled woman replied, stepping forward.
    'You can't!' Rath'Fener screamed. 'For this, only the Mortal Sword can invoke the Reve!'
    Itkovian stood motionless.
    The priest managed to pull one arm forward to jab a finger at the Shield Anvil. 'My rank is as Destriant! Unless you've one to make claim to that title?'
    'Destriant Karnadas is dead.'
    'That man was no Destriant, Shield Anvil! An Aspirant, perhaps, but my rank was and remains pre-eminent. Thus, only a Mortal Sword can invoke the Reve against me, and this you know.'
    Gruntle snorted. 'Itkovian, Paran here told me there was a betrayal. Your priest sold Brukhalian's life to the Pannions. Not only disgusting, but ill-advised. So.' He paused. 'Will any Mortal Sword do? If so, I invoke the Reve.' He bared his teeth at Rath'Fener. 'Punish the bastard.'
    We are replaced. The Lord of Battle is transformed indeed.
    'He cannot!' Rath'Fener shrieked.
    'A bold claim,' Itkovian said to the masked priest. 'In order to deny this man's right to the title, sir, you must call upon our god. In your defence. Do so, sir, and you shall walk from here a free man.'
    The eyes within the mask went wide. 'You know that is impossible, Itkovian!'
    'Then your defence is over, sir. The Reve is invoked. I am become Fener's hand of justice.'
    Rath'Trake, who had been standing nearby in watchful silence, now spoke, 'There is no need for any of this, Shield Anvil. Your god's absence changes ... everything. Surely, you understand the implications of the traditional form of punishment. A simple execution – not the Reve's law—'
    'Is denied this man,' Itkovian said. 'Captain Norul.'
    She strode to Rath'Fener, reached out and plucked him from the hold of the priests and priestesses. He seemed like a rag doll in her large, scarred hands as she swung him round and threw him belly down on the flagstones. She then straddled him, stretching his arms out forward yet side by side. The man shrieked with sudden comprehension.
    Itkovian drew his sword. Smoke drifted from the blade. 'The Reve,' he said, standing over Rath'Fener's outstretched arms. 'Betrayal, to trade Brukhalian's life for your own. Betrayal, the foulest crime to the Reve's law, to Fener himself. Punishment is invoked, in accordance with the Boar of Summer's judgement.' He was silent for a moment, then he said, 'Pray, sir, that Fener finds what we send to him.'
    'But he won't!' Rath'Trake cried. 'Don't you understand? His realm – your god no longer waits within it!'
    'He knows,' Paran said. 'This is what happens when it gets personal, and believe me, I'd rather have had no part in this.'
    Rath'Trake swung to the captain. 'And who are you, soldier?'
    'Today. Right now. I am the Master of the Deck, priest. And it seems I am here to negotiate ... on you and your god's behalf. Alas,' he added wryly, 'the Shield Anvil is proving admirably ... recalcitrant...'
    Itkovian barely heard the exchange. Eyes holding on the priest pinned to the ground before him, he said, 'Our Lord is ... gone. Indeed. So ... best pray, Rath'Fener, that a creature of mercy now looks kindly upon you.'
    Rath'Trake whirled back to the Shield Anvil at those words, 'By the Abyss, Itkovian – there is no crime so foul to match what you're about to do! His soul will be torn apart! Where they will go, there are no creatures of mercy! Itkovian—'
    'Silence, sir. This judgement is mine, and the Reve's.'
    The victim shrieked.
    And Itkovian swung down the sword. Blade's edge cracked onto the flagstones. Twin gouts of blood shot out from the stumps of Rath'Fener's wrists. The hands ... were nowhere to be seen.
    Itkovian jammed the flat of his blade against the stumps. Flesh sizzled. Rath'Fener's screams ceased abruptly as unconsciousness took him. Captain Norul moved away from the man, left