A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 2

behind you, crossbows cocked and fixed on your back.'
    The huge man tilted his head. 'Nine of you. In less than a quarter-bell several hundred looters and murderers will come calling.' He slowly looked around, as if gauging the estate's walls, the modest defences, then returned his steady gaze to Gamet.
    The captain scowled. 'No doubt you would have made it even easier for them. As it is, we might bloody their noses enough to encourage them to seek somewhere else.'
    'No, you won't, Captain. Things will simply get ... messier.'
    'Is this how the Empress simplifies matters, Kollen? An unlocked gate. Loyal guards cut down from behind. Have you honed your knife for my back?'
    'I am not here at the behest of the Empress, Captain.'
    Gamet's eyes narrowed.
    'No harm is to come to her,' the man went on after a moment. 'Provided I have your full co-operation. But we are running out of time.'
    'This is Tavore's answer? What of her parents? There was nothing to suggest that their fate would be any different from that of the others who'd been rounded up.'
    'Alas, the Adjunct's options are limited. She is under some . . . scrutiny.'
    'What is planned for Felisin, Kollen – or whoever you are?'
    'A brief stint in the otataral mines —'
    'What!?'
    'She will not be entirely alone. A guardian will accompany her. Understand, Captain, it is this, or the mob outside.'
    Nine loyal guards cut down, blood on the floors and walls, a handful of servants overwhelmed at flimsy barricades outside the child's bedroom door. Then, for the child ... no-one. 'Who is this "guardian", then, Kollen?'
    The man smiled. 'Me, Captain. And no, my true name is not Kollen.'
    Gamet stepped up to him, until their faces were but a hand's width apart. 'If any harm comes to her, I will find you. And I don't care if you're a Claw —'
    'I am not a Claw, Captain. As for harm coming to Felisin, I regret to say that there will be some. It cannot be helped. We must hope she is resilient –it is a Paran trait, yes?'
    After a long moment, Gamet stepped back, suddenly resigned. 'Do you kill us now or later?'
    The man's brows rose. 'I doubt I could manage that, given those crossbows levelled behind me. No, but I am to ask that you now escort me to a safe house. At all costs, we must not permit the child to fall into the mob's hands. Can I rely upon your help in this, Captain?'
    'Where is this safe house?'
    'On the Avenue of Souls . . .'
    Gamet grimaced. Judgement's Round. To the chains. Oh, Beru guard you, lass. He strode past Kollen. 'I will awaken her.'
     
    Pearl stood at the round table, leaning on both hands, his head lowered as he studied the scroll. The Adjunct had departed half a bell past, her Fist on her heels like a
misshapen shadow. Lostara waited, arms crossed, with her back against the door through which Tavore and Gamet had left. She had held silent during the length of Pearl's perusal of the scroll, her anger and frustration growing with each passing moment.
    Finally, she'd had enough. 'I will have no part of this. Return me to Tene Baralta's command.'
    Pearl did not look up. 'As you wish, my dear,' he murmured, then added: 'Of course I will have to kill you at some point – certainly before you report to your commander. It's the hard rules of clandestine endeavours, I regret to say.'
    'Since when are you at the Adjunct's beck and call, Pearl?'
    'Why,' he glanced up and met her gaze, 'ever since she unequivocally reasserted her loyalty to the Empress, of course.' He returned his attention to the scroll.
    Lostara scowled. 'I'm sorry, I think I missed that part of the conversation.'
    'Not surprising,' Pearl replied, 'since it resided in between the words actually spoken.' He smiled at her. 'Precisely where it belonged.'
    With a hiss, Lostara began pacing, struggled against an irrational desire to take a knife blade to these damned tapestries and their endless scenes of past glories. 'You will have to explain, Pearl,' she growled.
    'And will that relieve your conscience sufficiently to return you to my side? Very well. The resurgence of the noble class in the chambers of imperial power has been uncommonly swift. Indeed, one might say unnaturally so. Almost as if they were receiving help – but who? we wondered. Oh, absurd rumours of the return of the Talons persisted. And every now and then some poor fool who'd been arrested for something completely unrelated went and confessed to being a Talon, but they were young, caught up in romantic notions and the