A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 2

the Thrall – will they have no say in the disposition of the prisoners? Sir, troubled times might await us.'
    'Thank you for the warning, Wizard.'
    After a moment, Quick Ben shrugged, then sighed. 'See you in Capustan, Whiskeyjack.'
    'Aye.'
    The apparition faded.
    Korlat turned to the commander. 'Malazan military law.'
    He raised his brows. 'My sense of Caladan Brood is that he's not the vengeful type. Do you anticipate a clash?'
    'I know what Kallor will advise.' A hint of tension was present in her tone.
    'So do I, but I don't think the warlord's inclined to listen. Hood knows, he hasn't thus far.'
    'We have not yet seen Capustan.'
    He released a long breath, drew off his gauntlets. 'Horrors to answer in kind.'
    'An unwritten law,' she said in a low voice. 'An ancient law.'
    'I don't hold to it,' Whiskeyjack growled. 'We become no better, then. Even simple execution...' He faced her. 'Over two hundred thousand starving peasants. Will they stand about like sheep? Not likely. As prisoners? We couldn't feed them if we tried, nor have we sufficient soldiers to spare guarding them.'
    Korlat's eyes were slowly widening. 'You are proposing we leave them, aren't you?'
    She's leading up to something here. I've caught glimmers before, the whisper of a hidden wedge, poised to drive itself between us. 'Not all of them. We'll take their leaders. This Anaster, and his officers – assuming there are any. If the Tenescowri walked a path of atrocity, then the First Child led the way.' Whiskeyjack shook his head. 'But the real criminal awaits us within the Domin itself – the Seer – who would starve his followers into cannibalism, into madness. Who would destroy his own people. We'd be executing the victims – his victims.'
    The Tiste Andii frowned. 'By that token, we should absolve the Pannion armies as well, Whiskeyjack.'
    The Malazan's grey eyes hardened. 'Our enemy is the Seer. Dujek and I agree on this – we're not here to annihilate a nation. The armies that impede our march to the Seer, we will deal with. Efficiently. Retribution and revenge are distractions.'
    'And what of liberation? The conquered cities—'
    'Incidental, Korlat. I'm surprised at your confusion on this. Brood saw it the same as we did – at that first parley when tactics were discussed. We strike for the heart—'
    'I believe you misunderstood, Whiskeyjack. For over a decade, the warlord has been waging a war of liberation – from the rapacious hunger of your Malazan Empire. Caladan Brood has now shifted his focus – a new enemy – but the same war. Brood is here to free the Pannions—'
    'Hood's breath! You can't free a people from themselves !'
    'He seeks to free them from the Seer's rule.'
    'And who exalted the Seer to his present status?'
    'Yet you speak of absolving the commonalty, even the soldiers of the Pannion armies, Whiskeyjack. And that is what is confusing me.'
    Not entirely. 'We speak at cross-purposes here, Korlat. Neither I nor Dujek will willingly assume the role of judge and executioner – should we prove victorious. Nor are we here to put the pieces back together for the Pannions. That's for them to do. That responsibility will turn us into administrators, and to effectively administrate, we must occupy .'
    She barked a harsh laugh. 'And is that not the Malazan way, Whiskeyjack?'
    'This is not a Malazan war!'
    'Isn't it? Are you sure?'
    He studied her through slitted eyes. 'What do you mean? We're outlawed, woman. Onearm's Host is...' He fell silent, seeing a flatness come to Korlat's gaze, then realized – too late – that he had just failed a test. And with that failure had ended the trust that had grown between them. Damn, I walked right into it. Wide-eyed stupid.
    She smiled then, and it was a smile of pain and regret. 'Dujek approaches. You might as well await him here.'
    The Tiste Andii turned and strode from the tent.
    Whiskeyjack stared after her, then, when she'd left, he flung his gauntlets on the map table and sat down on Dujek's cot. Should I have told you, Korlat? The truth? That we've got a knife at our throats. And the hand holding it – on Empress Laseen's behalf – is right here in this very camp, and has been ever since the beginning.
    He heard a horse thump to a halt outside the tent. A few moments later Dujek Onearm entered, his armour sheathed in dust. 'Ah, wondered where you'd got to—'
    'Brood knows,' Whiskeyjack cut in, his voice low and raw.
    Dujek paused but a moment. 'He does, does he? What,