A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

into it.
    'Is that for your eel soup?'
    'Indeed.'
    'What happens now that I've decided to like you? Not just like you, I freely admit, but lust after you, Bugg.'
    'I have no idea, Rucket. May I take the rest of these bones?'
    'You certainly may. Would you like me to regurgitate my meal for you as well? I will, you know, for the thought that you will take into you what was previously in me—'
    Bugg was waving both hands in the negative. 'Please, don't put yourself out for me.'
    'No need to look so alarmed. Bodily functions are a wonderful, indeed sensual, thing. Why, the mere blowing clear of a nose is a potential source of ecstasy, once you grasp its phlegmatic allure.'
    'I'd best be going, Rucket.' He quickly rose. 'Have a nice night, Chief Investigator.' And was gone.
    Alone once more, Rucket sighed and leaned back in her chair. 'Well,' she sighed contentedly, 'it's always been a sure-fire way of getting rid of unwanted company.' She raised her voice. 'Servant! More wine, please!' That bit about clearing the nose was especially good, she decided. She was proud of that one, especially the way she disguised the sudden nausea generated by her own suggestion.
    Any man who'd cook that ... eel had surely earned eternal celibacy.
    Outside the restaurant, Bugg paused to check the contents of his shirt's many hidden pockets. Flask, eel, cat bones. A successful meeting, after all. Moreover, he was appreciative of her performance. Tehol might well and truly like this one, I think. It was worth considering.
    He stood for a moment longer, then allowed himself a soft laugh.
    In any case, time to head home.
    Tehol Beddict studied the three sad, pathetic women positioned variously in the chamber before him: Shand slumped behind the desk, her shaved pate looking dull and smudged; Rissarh lying down on a hard bench as if meditating on discomfort, her red hair spilled out and hanging almost to the floor; and Hejun, sprawled in a padded chair, refilling her pipe's bowl, her face looking sickly and wan. 'My,' Tehol said with a sigh, his hands on his hips, 'this is a tragic scene indeed.'
    Shand looked up, bleary-eyed. 'Oh, it's you.'
    'Hardly the greeting I was anticipating.' He strode into the room.
    'He's gone,' Hejun said, face twisting as she jabbed a taper into the coals of the three-legged brazier at her side. 'And it's Shand's fault.'
    'As much yours as mine,' Shand retorted. 'And don't forget Rissarh! "Oh, Ublala! Carry me around! Carry me around!" Talk about excess!'
    'Ublala's departure is the cause for all this despond?' Tehol shook his head. 'My dears, you did indeed drive him away.' He paused, then added with great pleasure, 'Because none of you was willing to make a commitment. A disgusting display of self-serving objectification. Atrocious behaviour by each and every one of you.'
    'All right, all right, Tehol,' Shand muttered. 'We could have been more ... compassionate.'
    'Respectful,' Rissarh said.
    'Yes,' Hejun said. 'How could one not respect Ublala's—'
    'See?' Tehol demanded, then flung up his hands. 'I am led to despair!'
    'You'll have company here,' Shand said.
    'He was to have been your bodyguard. That was the intent. Instead, you abused him—'
    'No we didn't!' Hejun snapped. 'Well, only a little. All in good fun, anyway.'
    'And now I have to find you a new bodyguard.'
    'Oh no you don't,' Shand said, sitting straighter. 'Don't even think it. We've been corrupted enough—'
    Tehol's brows rose. 'In any case,' he said, 'Ublala has now found someone who cares deeply for him—'
    'You idiot. She's dead. She's incapable of caring.'
    'Not true. Or, rather, there's something inside her that does care. A lot. My point is, it's time to get over it. There's work to be done.'
    'We tried following up on that list you gave us. Half those companies don't even exist. You tricked us, Tehol. In fact, we think this whole thing is a lie.'
    'What an absurd accusation. Granted, I padded the list somewhat, but only because you seemed to need to stay busy. Besides which, you're now rich, right? Wealthy beyond your wildest dreams. My investment advice has been perfect thus far. How many money-lending institutions do you now hold interest in?'
    'All the big ones,' Shand admitted. 'But not controlling interest—'
    'Wrong. Forty per cent is sufficient and you've acquired that.'
    'How is forty per cent enough?'
    'Because I hold twenty. Or, if not me, then my agents, Bugg included. We are poised, dear ladies, to loose chaos upon the