A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

did. All too well.
    He understood Tehol, too, though perhaps marginally less well. The rewards of wealth beyond measure had proved cold; only the hungry desire for that wealth hissed with heat. And that truth belonged to the world of the Letherii, the brittle flaw at the core of the golden sword. Tehol had thrown himself on that sword, and seemed content to bleed to death, slowly and with amiable aplomb. Whatever final message he sought in his death was a waste of time, since no-one would look his way when that day came. No-one dared. Which is why, I suspect, he's smiling.
    His brothers had ascended their peaks long ago – too early, it turned out – and now slid down their particular paths to dissolution and death. And what of me, then? I have been named King's Champion. Judged the finest swordsman in the kingdom. I believe I stand, here and now, upon the highest reach. There was no need to take that thought further.
    He reached a T-intersection and swung right. Ten paces ahead a side door spilled light into the corridor. As he came opposite it a voice called to him from the chamber within.
    'Finadd! Come quick.'
    Brys inwardly smiled and turned. Three strides into the spice-filled, low-ceilinged room. Countless sources of light made a war of colours on the furniture and tables with their crowds of implements, scrolls and beakers.
    'Ceda?'
    'Over here. Come and see what I've done.'
    Brys edged past a bookcase extending out perpendicularly from one wall and found the King's Sorceror behind it, perched on a stool. A tilted table with a level bottom shelf was at the man's side, cluttered with discs of polished glass.
    'Your step has changed, Finadd,' Kuru Qan said, 'since becoming the King's Champion.'
    'I was not aware of that, Ceda.'
    Kuru Qan spun on his seat and raised a strange object before his face. Twin lenses of glass, bound in place side by side with wire. The Ceda's broad, prominent features were made even more so by a magnifying effect from the lenses. Kuru Qan set the object against his face, using ties to bind it so that the lenses sat before his eyes, making them huge as he blinked up at Brys.
    'You are as I imagined you. Excellent. The blur diminishes in importance. Clarity ascends, achieving preeminence among all the important things. What I hear now matters less than what I see. Thus, perspective shifts. The world changes. Important, Finadd. Very important.'
    'Those lenses have given you vision? That is wonderful, Ceda!'
    'The key was in seeking a solution that was the antithesis of sorcery. Looking upon the Empty Hold stole my sight, after all. I could not effect correction through the same medium. Not yet important, this detail. Pray indeed it never becomes so.'
    Ceda Kuru Qan never held but one discourse at any one time. Or so he had explained it once. While many found this frustrating, Brys was ever charmed.
    'Am I the first to be shown your discovery, Ceda?'
    'You would see its importance more than most. Swordsman, dancing with place, distance and timing, with all the material truths. I need to make adjustments.' He snatched the contraption off and hunched over it, minuscule tools flicking in his deft hands. 'You were in the First Eunuch's chamber of office. Not an altogether pleasing conversation for you. Unimportant, for the moment.'
    'I am summoned to the throne room, Ceda.'
    'True. Not entirely urgent. The Preda would have you present .. . shortly. The First Eunuch enquired after your eldest brother?'
    Brys sighed.
    'I surmised,' Kuru Qan said, glancing up with a broad smile. 'Your unease tainted your sweat. Nifadas is sorely obsessed at the moment.' He set the lenses against his eyes once more. Focused on the Finadd's eyes – disconcerting, since it had never happened before. 'Who needs spies when one's nose roots out all truths?'
    'I hope, Ceda, that you do not lose that talent, with this new invention of yours.'
    'Ah, see! A swordsman indeed. The importance of every sense is not lost on you! What a measurable delight – here, let me show you.' He slid down from the stool and approached a table, where he poured clear liquid into a translucent beaker. Crouched low to check its level, then nodded. 'Measurable, as I had suspected.' He plucked the beaker from its stand and tossed the contents back, smacking his lips when he was done. 'But it is both brothers who haunt you now.'
    'I am not immune to uncertainty.'
    'One should hope not! An important admission. When the Preda is done with you