A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

far as anyone else is concerned, I'm still not playing the game. You three are the investors. So, put those damned weapons away; we're in a far deadlier war now. There's a family of Nerek camped outside my house. A mother and two children. Hire them as cook and runners. Then head down to the Merchant Tolls and get yourselves listed. You deal in property, construction and transportation. No other ventures. Not yet. Now, seven properties are for sale around the fifth wing of the Eternal Domicile. They're going cheap.'
    'Because they're sinking.'
    'Right. And we're going to fix that. And once we've done that, expect a visit from the Royal Surveyor and a motley collection of hopeful architects. Ladies, prepare to get rich.'
    Looking for solid grounding? Bugg's Construction is your answer.
    Until the flood sweeps the entire world away, that is.
    'Can we buy you some clothes?'
    Tehol blinked. 'Why?'
    Seren stared down. The valley stretched below, its steep sides unrelieved forest, a deep motionless green. The glitter of rushing water threaded through the shadows in the cut's nadir. Blood of the Mountains, the Edur called that river. Tis'forundal. Its waters ran red with the sweat of iron.
    The track they would take crossed that river again and again.
    The lone Tiste Edur far below had, it seemed, emerged from that crimson stream. Striding to the head of the trail then beginning the ascent.
    As if knowing we're here.
    Buruk the Pale was taking his time with this journey, calling a halt shortly after midday. The wagons would not tip onto that rocky, sliding path into the valley until the morrow. Caution or drunk indifference, the result was the same.
    Hull stood at her side. Both of them watched the Tiste Edur climb closer.
    'Seren.'
    'Yes?'
    'You weep at night.'
    'I thought you were asleep.'
    He said nothing for a moment, then, 'Your weeping always woke me.'
    And this is as close as you dare, isn't it? 'Would that yours had me.'
    'I am sure it would have, Seren, had I wept.'
    And this eases my guilt? She nodded towards that distant Tiste Edur. 'Do you recognize him?'
    'I do.'
    'Will he cause us trouble?'
    'No, I don't think so. I believe he will be our escort back to Hiroth lands.'
    'Noble-born?'
    Hull nodded. 'Binadas Sengar.'
    She hesitated, then asked, 'Have you cut flesh for him?'
    'I have. As he has for me.'
    Seren Pedac drew her furs tighter about her shoulders. The wind had not relented, though something of the valley's damp rot now rode its bludgeoning rush. 'Hull, do you fear this Great Meeting?'
    'I need only look back to see what lies ahead.'
    'Are you so sure of that?'
    'We will buy peace, but it will be, for the Tiste Edur, a deadly peace.'
    'But peace none the less, Hull.'
    'Acquiror, you might as well know, and so understand me clearly. I mean to shatter that gathering. I mean to incite the Edur into war with Letheras.'
    Stunned, she stared at him.
    Hull Beddict turned away. 'With that knowledge,' he said, 'do as you will.'

CHAPTER THREE
    Face to the Light
betrayed by the Dark
Father Shadow
lies bleeding
Unseen and unseeing lost
until his Children
take the final path
and in the solitude
of strangers
Awaken once more
    Tiste Edur prayer
    A hard silence that seemed at home in the dense, impenetrable fog. The Blackwood paddles had been drawn from water thick as blood, which ran in rivulets, then beads, down the polished shafts, finally drying with a patina of salt in the cool, motionless air. And now there was nothing to do but wait.
    Daughter Menandore had delivered a grim omen that morning. The body of a Beneda warrior. A bloated corpse scorched by sorcery, skin peeled back by the ceaseless hungers of the sea. The whispering roar of flies stung into flight by the arrival of those Edur whose slaves had first found it.
    Letherii sorcery.
    The warrior wore no scabbard, no armour. He had been fishing.
    Four K'orthan longboats had set out from the river mouth shortly after the discovery. In the lead craft rode Hannan Mosag and his K'risnan Cadre, along with seventy-five blooded warriors. Crews of one hundred followed in the three additional raiders.
    The tide carried them out for a time. It soon became clear that no wind waited offshore, so they left the three triangular sails on each ship furled and, thirty-five warriors to a side, had begun paddling.
    Until the Warlock King had signalled a halt.
    The fog enclosed the four raider longboats. Nothing could be seen twenty strokes of the paddle in any direction. Trull