A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 2

rubbed his eyes. 'Let's hear it, then, Kruppe.'
    'An impartial and exquisitely competent manager of said supply is required, of course. Not on the Council and therefore possessing nothing of the internal pressures so afflicting its honourable members. Skilled, as well, in mercantile matters. A vast capacity for organizing. In all, a superior—'
    Coll's fist thumped down on the table, startling everyone. He rounded on Kruppe. 'If you imagine yourself in such a role – you, a middling fence to middling pickpockets and warehouse thieves—'
    But the small, round man raised his hands and leaned back. 'Dear friend Coll! You flatter me with such an offer! However, poor Kruppe is far too busy with his own middling affairs to tackle such an endeavour. Nay, in close consultation with his loyal and wise servant Kruppe, Master Baruk proposes a different agent entirely—'
    'What is all this?' Coll hissed dangerously. 'Baruk doesn't even know you're here!'
    'A minor breakdown in communication, nothing more. The alchemist's desire was plain to Kruppe, he assures you one and all! Whilst Kruppe may well and with some justification claim sole credit for the impending proposal, alas, he must bow to the virtue of truthfulness and therefore acknowledge Master Baruk's minor – yet vital – contribution. Why, it was only yesterday that he mused on the peculiar talents of the agent in question, and if this was not a hint as to his desires, then what, dear Coll, could it have been?'
    'Get on with it, sir,' Estraysian D'Arle grated.
    'Kruppe delights in doing so, friend Councillor – and by the way, how fares your daughter, Challice? Has she indeed partaken of marriage nuptials with that hero of the fete? Kruppe so regrets his missing that no doubt sumptuous event—'
    'Which has yet to occur,' D'Arle snapped. 'She is well, sir. My patience with you is growing very thin, Kruppe—'
    'Alas, I can only dream of thin. Very well, the agent in question is none other than the newly arrived mercantile enterprise known as the Trygalle Trade Guild.' Beaming, he sat back, lacing his fingers together over his belly.
    Brood turned to Coll. 'An enterprise I have never heard of...'
    The councillor was frowning. 'As Kruppe said, newly arrived in Darujhistan. From the south – Elingarth, I believe. We used them but once – a singularly difficult delivery of funds to Dujek Onearm.' He looked to Estraysian D'Arle, who shrugged, then spoke.
    'They have made no bids regarding the contracts to supply the combined armies. Indeed, they have sent no representative to the meetings – that single use of them Coll mentioned was a sub-contract, I believe.' He swung a scowl on Kruppe. 'Given their obvious lack of interest, why would you – or, rather, Master Baruk – believe that this Trygalle Trade Guild is amenable to participating, much less acting as mitigator?'
    Kruppe poured himself another tankard of ale, sipped, then smacked his lips appreciatively. 'The Trygalle Trade Guild does not offer bids, for every other enterprise would be sure to greatly underbid them without even trying. In other words, they are not cheap. More exactly, their services demand a king's ransom generally. One thing you can be sure of, however, is that they will do precisely what they have been hired to do, no matter how ... uh, nightmarish ... the logistics.'
    'You've invested in them, haven't you, Kruppe?' Coll's face had darkened. 'So much for impartial advice – and Baruk has absolutely nothing to do with you being here. You're acting on behalf of this Trygalle Trade Guild, aren't you?'
    'Kruppe assures, the conflict of interest is a matter of appearance only, friend Coll! The truth is more precisely a convergence. The needs are evident here before us all, and so too is the means of answering them! Happy coincidence! Now, Kruppe would partake of more of these delicious Rhivi cakes, whilst you discuss the merits of said proposal and no doubt reach the propitious, inevitable conclusion.'
     
    Crone could smell sorcery in the air. And it doesn't belong. No, not Tiste Andii, not the Rhivi spirits awakened either ... She circled over the encampment, questing with all her senses. The afternoon had drawn into dusk, then night, as the meeting within Caladan Brood's command tent stretched on, and on. The Great Raven was quickly bored by interminable discussions of caravan routes and how many tons of this and that were required on a weekly basis to keep two armies fed and content on