A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

them now, and Bottle
saw Taffo, from Mosel's squad, wading into a crowd of
warriors, now ten paces from the building – from Strings's
target—
    —as the crossbow thunked, the misshapen quarrel flying
out, up, into the maw of the window.
    Bottle threw himself flat, arms covering his head—
    The upper floor of the building exploded, huge sections
of wall bulging, then crashing down into the street. The
cobbles jumped beneath Bottle.
    Someone rolled up against him and he felt something
flop heavy and slimy onto his forearm, twitching and hot.
A sudden reek of bile and faeces.
    The patter of stones, piteous moans, the lick of flames.
Then another massive crash, as what remained of the upper
floor collapsed into the level below. The groan of the
nearest wall preceded its sagging dissolution. Then, beyond
the few groans, silence.
    Bottle lifted his head. To find Corporal Harbyn lying
beside him. The lower half of the soldier's body was gone,
entrails spilled out. Beneath the helm's ridge, eyes stared
sightlessly. Pulling away, Bottle leaned back on his hands and
crabbed across the rock-strewn street. Where Taffo had been
fighting a mob of warriors, there was now nothing but a heap
of rubble and a few dust-sheathed limbs jutting from beneath
it, all motionless.
    Koryk moved past him, stabbing down at stunned figures
with his sword. Bottle saw Smiles cross the half-Seti's path,
her two knives already slick with blood.
    Bodies in the street. Figures slowly rising, shaking their
heads, spitting blood. Bottle twisted round onto his knees,
dipped his head, and vomited onto the cobbles.
    'Fiddler – you bastard!'
    Coughing, but stomach quiescent for the moment,
Bottle looked over to see Sergeant Mosel advancing on
Strings.
    'We had them! We were rushing the damned building!'
    'Then rush that one!' Strings snapped, pointing at the
tenement on the other side of the street. 'They just been
knocked back, that's all – any moment now and another
rain of arrows—'
    Cursing, Mosel gestured at the three heavies left –
Mayfly, Flashwit and Uru Hela – and they lumbered into
the building's doorway.
    Strings was fitting another quarrel into his crossbow, this
one loaded with a sharper. 'Balgrid! Who's left in your
squad?'
    The portly mage staggered over. 'What?' he shouted. 'I
can't hear you! What?'
    'Tavos Pond!'
    'Here, Sergeant. We got Maybe, uhm, Balgrid – but he's
bleeding out from his ears. Lutes is down, but he should live
– with some healing. We're out of this—'
    'To Hood you are. Pull Lutes clear – there's a squad
coming up – the rest of you are with me—'
    'Balgrid's deaf!'
    'Better he was mute – we got hand signals, remember?
Now remind the bastard of that! Bottle, help Tarr out.
Cuttle, take Koryk to that corner up ahead and wait there
for us. Smiles, load up on quarrels – I want that weapon of
yours cocked and your eyes sharp on everything from
rooftops on down.'
    Bottle climbed to his feet and made his way to where
Tarr was struggling to clamber free of rubble – a part of the
wall had fallen on him, but it seemed his armour and shield
had withstood the impact. Lots of swearing, but nothing
voiced in pain. 'Here,' Bottle said, 'give me your arm—'
    'I'm fine,' the corporal said, grunting as he kicked his feet
clear. He still gripped his shortsword, and snagged on its tip
was a hairy piece of scalp, coated in dust and dripping from
the underside. 'Look at that,' he said, gesturing up the
street with his sword, 'even Cuttle's shut up now.'
    'Fid had no choice,' Bottle said. 'Too many arrows
coming down—'
    'I ain't complaining, Bottle. Not one bit. See Borduke go
down? And Hubb? That could've been us, if we'd reached
here first.'
    'Abyss take me, I hadn't thought of that.'
    He glanced over as a squad of medium infantry arrived –
Sergeant Cord's – Ashok Regiment and all that. 'What in
Hood's name happened?'
    'Ambush,' Bottle said. 'Sergeant Strings had to take a
building down. Cusser.'
    Cord's eyes widened. 'Bloody marines,' he muttered,
then headed over to where Strings crouched. Bottle and
Tarr followed.
    'You formed up again?' Cord asked their sergeant. 'We're
bunching up behind you—'
    'We're ready, but send word back. There'll be ambushes
aplenty. Leoman means us to buy every street and every
building with blood. Fist Keneb might want to send the
sappers ahead again, under marine cover, to drop buildings
– it's the safest way to proceed.'
    Cord looked round. 'Safest way? Gods below.' He