A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

into the dome complex. He came to the main corridor, halting to study the layout once more. The walls had been scrubbed, the dust on the floor mopped away. Guards and functionaries were moving about, readying for the investiture. Many glances were cast in the direction of the figure sleeping halfway down the corridor, curled up on the centre tile.
    Sighing, Brys approached Kuru Qan. 'Ceda.'
    The old man made a sound, then turned over so that his back was to Brys.
    'Wake up, Ceda. Please.'
    Head lifting, Kuru Qan groped for the twin lenses lying on the floor nearby, drew them to his face. 'Who calls?'
    'It is Brys Beddict.'
    'Ah, Finadd.' Kuru Qan twisted round and peered up. 'You look well.'
    You do not. 'Ceda, the investiture is about to begin. Unless you would have King Ezgara Diskanar step around you during his solemn march, you will have to move.'
    'No!' The old man spread himself out on the flagstone. 'I must not! This is mine. My place.'
    'You insist that he step to one side on his approach? Ceda, you risk the king's anger—'
    'Relevant? Not in the least.' His fingers scrabbled on the stone. 'This is mine. Warn him, Finadd. Warn the king.'
    'About what?'
    'I will not be moved. Any who would try will be blasted into ashes. Ashes, Brys Beddict.'
    Brys glanced around. A small crowd had gathered to listen to the exchange. The Finadd scowled. 'Be on your way, all of you.' People scrambled.
    Temporarily alone once more, Brys crouched down before the Ceda. 'You had paints and brushes with you last time. What happened to them?'
    'Paints and brushes?' The eyes blinked behind the lenses. 'Gone. Gone away. The king wants you now, Finadd. He is ready to begin the procession. Nifadas is coming – he will complain, but no matter. It will be a small audience, won't it. Relevant? Oh yes. Best the king ignore me – explain that to him, Brys.'
    The Finadd straightened. 'I shall, Ceda.'
    'Excellent. Now, be on your way.'
    'This doesn't smell right.'
    Trull looked over at the Kenryll'ah demon that had spoken. It was taller than the Tiste Edur on their horses. A face of sharper features than those on Lilac, black as chiselled basalt, the upper and lower canines protruding and glinting silver. A fur-lined collar, a vest of bronze scales, salt-rimed and dark with patination. A heavy leather belt on which was slung a huge scabbarded tulwar. Leather leggings, grey and supple. The other demon, standing at its side, differed only in the choice of weapons, a massive matlock gripped in two gauntleted hands.
    This second Kenryll'ah bared its teeth. 'Making me hungry.'
    'Split bones,' the other said. 'Marrow.'
    The stench the two were referring to was that of rotting corpses. They had reached the edge of the clearing, beyond which was the palisade wall of the town of Brous. In the field were barrows, and one long excavated trench. There was no-one in sight.
    'Brothers,' the emperor said, 'dismount and ready your weapons.'
    Trull swung down from his horse. He turned. 'K'risnan, can you sense anything?'
    The young Arapay warlock's face was sickly. He nodded. 'In the town, I think. It knows we're here.'
    Rhulad closed both hands on the grip of his sword and raised it to centre guard position. 'Udinaas, remain with the horses. Fear, on my left. Trull, my right. K'risnan, stay behind us five paces. Demons, out to either side.'
    'Can't we eat first?'
    'Or pee? I need to pee.'
    'You should have thought of that before we left,' the first demon said.
    'And you should have eaten. We've plenty of spare horses, you know.'
    The emperor hissed. 'Silence, both of you. We've had to listen to you the entire journey. No more, lest I decide to kill you first.'
    'That wouldn't be wise,' the second Kenryll'ah said. 'I smell more than meat, I smell the one thing still alive in there, and it isn't pleasant.'
    'I taste it,' the first demon said. 'And it makes me want to retch.'
    'You should have thought of retching before we left,' the second one said.
    'I think of retching every time I look at you.'
    'Enough!'
    'I apologize for my brother,' the first demon said.
    'And I for mine,' the second one added.
    Strange tyrants. Trull unslung his spear and strode to Rhulad's side.
    They made their way across the clearing. Reaching the pit, they saw the first of the bodies. Broken and tossed at the base of the deep, ragged excavation, like an open mass burial. Workers and soldiers. Flesh dark and bloating in the heat. Flies swarmed.
    They skirted the pit and approached