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A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

Titel: A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3 Kostenlos Bücher Online Lesen
Autoren: Steven Erikson
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his cup. 'The blood of kin need not always burn, brothers. There must be times when it simply ... warms us.'
    Fear cleared his throat. 'We have ... missed you as well, Emperor—'
    'Enough! No titles. Rhulad, so our father named me, as he named all his sons, each in turn from the host of ancestors of the Sengar line. It is too easy to forget.'
    Udinaas set a cup into Fear's hand. Fingers closed of their own accord.
    Trull glanced up as the slave approached him with the last cup. He met the Letherii's eyes, was startled by what he saw in them. He reached out and accepted the wine. 'Thank you, Udinaas.'
    A flinch from Rhulad. 'He is mine,' he said in a tight voice.
    Trull's eyes widened. 'Of course, Rhulad.'
    'Good. Yes. Fear, I must tell you of Mayen.'
    Slowly leaning back, Trull studied the wine trembling in the cup in his hands. The slave's gaze, the message it seemed to convey. All is well.
    'I did not,' Fear ventured hesitantly, 'see her earlier ...'
    'No, nor our mother. Mayen has been unwell.' Rhulad shot Fear a nervous glance. 'I am sorry, brother. I should not have ... should not have done that. And now, well, you see ...' He drained his wine in a single motion. 'Udinaas, more. Tell him. Explain, Udinaas, so that Fear understands.'
    The slave refilled the cup, then stepped back. 'She is with child,' he said, meeting Fear's gaze. 'There is no doubt, now, that her heart belongs to you. Rhulad would have wished otherwise. At first, in any case. But not now. He understands. But the child, that has made matters difficult. Complicated.'
    The cup in Fear's hand had not visibly moved, but Trull could see that it was close to spilling, as if a numbness was stealing the strength of the limb. 'Go on,' Fear managed.
    'There is no precedent, no rules among your people,' Udinaas resumed. 'Rhulad would relinquish his marriage to her, he would undo all that has been done. But for the child, do you see, Fear Sengar?'
    'That child will be heir—'
    Rhulad interrupted with a harsh laugh. 'No heir, Fear. Ever. Don't you see? The throne shall be my eternal burden.'
    Burden. By the Sisters, what has awakened you, Rhulad? Who has awakened you? Trull snapped his gaze back to Udinaas, and mentally reeled in sudden realization. Udinaas? This ... this slave?
    Udinaas was nodding, eyes still on Fear's own. 'The warrior that raises that child will be its father, in all things but the naming. There will be no deception. All will know. If there is to be a stigma ...'
    'It will be for me to deal with,' Fear said. 'Should I choose to stand beside Mayen, once wife to the emperor, with a child not my own to raise as my wife's first-born.'
    'It is as you say, Fear Sengar,' Udinaas said. Then he stepped back.
    Trull slowly straightened, reached with one hand and gently righted the cup in Fear's grip. Startled, his brother looked at him, then nodded. 'Rhulad, what does Mother say to all this?'
    'Mayen has been punishing herself with white nectar. It is not an easy thing to defeat, such ... dependency. Uruth endeavours ...'
    A soft groan from Fear, as he closed his eyes.
    Trull watched Rhulad stretch out as if to touch Fear, watched him hesitate, then glance across to Trull.
    Who nodded. Yes. Now.
    A momentary contact, that seemed to shoot through Fear, snapping his eyes open.
    'Brother,' Rhulad said, 'I am sorry.'
    Fear studied his youngest brother's face, then said, 'We are all sorry, Rhulad. For... so much. What has Uruth said of the child? Is it well?'
    'Physically, yes, but it knows its mother's hunger. This will be ... difficult. I know, you do not deserve any of this, Fear—'
    'Perhaps, Rhulad, but I will accept the burden. For Mayen. And for you.'
    No-one spoke after that, not for some time. They drank their wine, and it seemed to Trull that something was present, some part of his life he'd thought – not long gone, but non-existent in the first place. They sat, the three of them. Brothers, and nothing more.
    Night descended outside. Udinaas served food and still more wine. Some time later, Trull rose, the alcohol softening details, and wandered through the chambers of the tent, his departure barely noticed by Rhulad and Fear.
    In a small room walled in by canvas, he found Udinaas.
    The slave was sitting on a small stool, eating his own supper. He looked up in surprise at Trull's sudden arrival.
    'Please,' Trull said, 'resume your meal. You have earned it, Udinaas.'
    'Is there something you wish of me, Trull Sengar?'
    'No. Yes. What have

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