A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 2

Moranth munitions, Trull Sengar.'
    The Tiste Edur glanced up. 'I have no knowledge of such things.'
    'Weapons. Explosive when the clay breaks. They are generally thrown. As far as is possible. Have you heard of the Malazan Empire?'
    'No.'
    'Human. From my birth realm. These munitions belong to that empire.'
    'Well, that is troubling indeed – for why are they here?'
    'I do not know.'
    Trull Sengar closed the lid and collected the box. 'While I would prefer a sword, these will have to do. I was not pleased at being unarmed for so long.'
    'There is a structure beyond – an arch.'
    Straightening, the Tiste Edur nodded. 'Aye. It is what we seek.'
    They continued on.
    The arch stood on pedestals in the centre of a cobbled square. Floodwaters had carried silt to its mouth where it had dried in strange, jagged ridges. As the two travellers
came closer, they discovered that the clay was rock hard. Although the gate did not manifest itself in any discernible way, a pulsing heat rolled from the space beneath the arch.
    The pillars of the structure were unadorned. Onrack studied the edifice. 'What can you sense of this?' the T'lan Imass asked after a moment.
    Trull Sengar shook his head, then approached. He halted within arm's reach of the gate's threshold. 'I cannot believe this is passable – the heat pouring from it is scalding.'
    'Possibly a ward,' Onrack suggested.
    'Aye. And no means for us to shatter it.'
    'Untrue.'
    The Tiste Edur glanced back at Onrack, then looked down at the box tucked under his arm. 'I do not understand how a mundane explosive could destroy a ward.'
    'Sorcery depends on patterns, Trull Sengar. Shatter the pattern and the magic fails.'
    'Very well, let us attempt this thing.'
    They retreated twenty paces from the gate. Trull unlatched the box and gingerly drew forth one of the clay spheres. He fixed his gaze on the gate, then threw the munition.
    The explosion triggered a coruscating conflagration from the portal. White and gold fires raged beneath the arch, then the violence settled back to form a swirling golden wall.
    'That is the warren itself,' Onrack said. 'The ward is broken. Still, I do not recognize it.'
    'Nor I,' Trull muttered, closing the munitions box once more. Then his head snapped up. 'Something's coming.'
    'Yes.' Onrack was silent then for a long moment. He suddenly lifted his sword. 'Flee, Trull Sengar – back across the bridge. Flee!'
    The Tiste Edur spun and began running.
    Onrack proceeded to back up a step at a time. He could feel the power of the ones on the other side of the gate, a power brutal and alien. The breaking of the ward had been
noted, and the emotion reaching through the barrier was one of indignant outrage.
    A quick look over his shoulder showed that Trull Sengar had crossed the bridge and was now nowhere in sight. Three more steps and Onrack would himself reach the bridge. And there, he would make his stand. He expected to be destroyed, but he intended to purchase time for his companion.
    The gate shimmered, blindingly bright, then four riders cantered through. Riding white, long-limbed horses with wild manes the colour of rust. Ornately armoured in enamel, the warriors were a match for their mounts – pale-skinned and tall, their faces mostly hidden behind slitted visors, cheek and chin guards. Curved scimitars that appeared to have been carved from ivory were held in gauntleted fists. Long silver hair flowed from beneath the helms.
    They rode directly towards Onrack. Canter to gallop. Gallop to charge.
    The battered T'lan Imass widened his stance, lifted his obsidian sword and stood ready to meet them.
    The riders could only come at him on the narrow bridge two at a time, and even then it was clear that they simply intended their horses to ride Onrack down. But the T'lan Imass had fought in the service of the Malazan Empire, in Falar and in Seven Cities – and he had faced horse warriors in many a battle. A moment before the front riders reached him, Onrack leapt forward. Between the two mounts. Ignoring the sword that whirled in from his left, the T'lan Imass slashed his blade into the other warrior's midsection.
    Two ivory blades struck him simultaneously, the one on his left smashing through clavicle and cutting deep into his shoulder blade, then through in a spray of bone shards. The scimitar on his right chopped down through the side of his face, sheering it off from temple to the base of the jaw.
    Onrack felt his own obsidian blade bite deep into