A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 2

warrior struggled within the ever-tightening net,
and in moments was rendered helpless.
    The wounded soldier's screams continued, until a hard voice rumbled a command and eerie light flashed in the room. The shrieks abruptly stopped.
    Figures closed in around Karsa, one crouching down near his head. A dark-skinned, scarred face beneath a bald, tattoo-stitched pate. The man's smile was a row of gleaming gold. 'You understand Nathii, I take it. That's nice. You've just made Limp's bad leg a whole lot worse, and he won't be happy about that. Even so, you stumbling into our laps will more than make up for the house arrest we're presently under—'
    'Let's kill him, Sergeant—'
    'Enough of that, Shard. Bell, go find the slavemaster. Tell him we got his prize. We'll hand him over, but not for nothing. Oh, and do it quietly – I don't want the whole town outside with torches and pitchforks.' The sergeant looked up as another soldier arrived. 'Nice work, Ebron.'
    'I damned near wet my pants, Cord,' the man named Ebron replied, 'when he just threw off the nastiest I had.'
    'Just shows, don't it?' Shard muttered.
    'Shows what?' Ebron demanded.
    'Well, only that clever beats nasty every time, that's all.'
    Sergeant Cord grunted, then said, 'Ebron, see what you can do for Limp, before he comes round and starts screaming again.'
    'I'll do that. For a runt, he's got some lungs, don't he just.'
    Cord reached down and carefully slid his hand between the burning strands to tap a finger against the bloodsword. 'So here's one of the famed wooden swords. So hard it breaks Aren steel.'
    'Look at the edge,' Shard said. 'It's that resin they use that makes that edge—'
    'And hardens the wood itself, aye. Ebron, this web of yours, is it causing him pain?'
    The sorcerer's reply came from beyond Karsa's line of sight. 'If it was you in that, Cord, you'd be howling to
shame the Hounds. For a moment or two, then you'd be dead and sizzling like fat on a hearthstone.'
    Cord frowned down at Karsa, then slowly shook his head. 'He ain't even trembling. Hood knows what we could do with five thousand of these bastards in our ranks.'
    'Might even manage to clean out Mott Wood, eh, Sergeant?'
    'Might at that.' Cord rose and stepped away. 'So what's keeping Bell?'
    'Probably can't find no-one,' Shard replied. 'Never seen a whole town take to the boats like that before.'
    Boots sounded in the antechamber, and Karsa listened to the arrival of at least a half-dozen newcomers.
    A soft voice said, 'Thank you, Sergeant, for recovering my property—'
    'Ain't your property any more,' Cord replied. 'He's a prisoner of the Malazan Empire, now. He killed Malazan soldiers, not to mention damaging imperial property by kicking in that door there.'
    'You cannot be serious—'
    'I'm always serious, Silgar,' Cord quietly drawled. 'I can guess what you got in mind for this giant. Castration, a cutout tongue, hobbling. You'll put him on a leash and travel the towns south of here, drumming up replacements for your bounty hunters. But the Fist's position on your slaving activities is well enough known. This is occupied territory – this is part of the Malazan Empire now, like it or not, and we ain't at war with these so-called Teblor. Oh, I'll grant you, we don't appreciate renegades coming down and raiding, killing imperial subjects and all that. Which is why this bastard is now under arrest, and he'll likely be sentenced to the usual punishment: the otataral mines of my dear old homeland.' Cord moved to settle down beside Karsa once more. 'Meaning we'll be seeing a lot of each other, since our detachment's heading home. Rumours of rebellion and such, though I doubt it'll come to much.'
    Behind him, the slavemaster spoke. 'Sergeant, the
Malazan hold upon its conquests on this continent is more than precarious at the moment, now that your principal army is bogged down outside the walls of Pale. Do you truly wish for an incident here? To so flout our local customs—'
    'Customs?' Still gazing down at Karsa, Cord bared his teeth. 'The Nathii custom has been to run and hide when the Teblor raid. Your studious, deliberate corruption of the Sunyd is unique, Silgar. Your destruction of that tribe was a business venture on your part. Damned successful it was, too. The only flouting going on here is yours, with Malazan law.' He looked up, his smile broadening. 'What in Hood's name do you think our company's doing here, you perfumed piece of scum?'
    All at once tension filled