A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

then Karpolan
Demesand's voice emerged from a speak-tube near the roof.
'Nisstar, Artara, if you will, examine yon barricade.'
    Paran dismounted, his sword still out, and joined the two
Pardu women as they crept cautiously towards the
destroyed carriage.
    'That's Trygalle Trade Guild,' Paran said in low tones,
'isn't it?'
    'Shhh.'
    They reached the scene. Paran held back as the shareholders,
exchanging gestures, each went to one side,
crossbows held at the ready. In moments, they moved out
of his line of sight.
    The carriage was lying on its side, the roof facing Paran.
One back wheel was missing. The copper sheets of the roof
looked battered, peeled away in places, cut and gouged in
others. On two of the visible iron attachment loops, strips
of leather remained.
    One of the Pardu women appeared on top, perching on
the frame of the side door, then crouching to look straight
down, inside the carriage. A moment later, she disappeared
inside. The other shareholder came from around the wreck.
Paran studied her. Her nose had been shattered, not long
ago, he judged, as the remnant of bruises marred the area
beneath her eyes with faint crescents. The eyes above those
bruises were now filled with fear.
    Behind them, Karpolan Demesand emerged and, the
Jaghut at his side and Hedge trailing, they slowly
approached.
    Paran turned, studied the pale, expressionless visage of
the High Mage. 'Do you recognize this particular carriage,
Karpolan?'
    A nod. 'Trade Mistress Darpareth Vayd. Missing, with all
her shareholders, for two years. Ganoes Paran, I must think
on this, for she was my superior in the sorcerous arts. I am
deeply saddened by this discovery, for she was my friend.
Saddened, and alarmed.'
    'Do you recall the details of her last mission?'
    'Ah, a prescient question. Generally,' he paused, folding
his hands on his lap, 'such details remain the property of
the Trygalle Trade Guild, for as you must realize, confidentiality
is a quality our clients pay for, in fullest trust
that we reveal nothing. In this instance, however, two
things are clear that mitigate such secrecy. One: it seems, if
we continue on, we shall face what Darpareth faced. Two:
in this, her last mission, she failed. And presumably, we do
not wish to share her fate. Accordingly, we shall here and
now pool our talents, first, to determine what destroyed her
mission, and secondly, to effect a reasonable defence
against the enemy responsible.'
    The other Pardu clambered once more into view. Seeing
Karpolan she paused, then shook her head.
    'No bodies,' Paran said. 'Of course, those hungry beasts
we ran into may well have cleaned up afterwards—'
    'I think not,' said Ganath. 'I suspect they too fear what
lies ahead, and would not venture this far along the bridge.
In any case, the damage on that carriage came from something
far larger, stronger. If this bridge has a true guardian,
then I suspect these poor travellers met it.'
    Paran frowned. 'Guardian. Why would there be a
guardian? That kind of stuff belongs to fairy tales. How often
does someone or something try to cross this bridge? It's got to
be rare, meaning there's some guardian with a lot of spare
time on its hands. Why not just wander off? Unless the thing
has no brain at all, such a geas would drive it mad—'
    'Mad enough to tear apart whatever shows up,' Hedge
said.
    'More like desperate for a scratch behind the ear,' Paran
retorted. 'It doesn't make sense. Creatures need to eat, need
company—'
    'And if the guardian has a master?' Ganath asked.
    'This isn't a Hold,' Paran said. 'It has no ruler, no
master.'
    Karpolan grunted, then said, 'You are sure of this,
Ganoes Paran?'
    'I am. More or less. This realm is buried, forgotten.'
    'It may be, then,' Karpolan mused, 'that someone needs
to inform the guardian that such is the case – that its task
is no longer relevant. In other words, we must release it
from its geas.'
    'Assuming such a guardian exists,' Paran said, 'rather
than some chance meeting of two forces, both heading the
same way.'
    The Trygalle master's small eyes narrowed. 'You know
more of this, Ganoes Paran?'
    'What was Darpareth Vayd's mission here?'
    'Ah, we are to exchange secrets, then. Very well. As I
recall, the client was from Darujhistan. Specifically, the
House of Orr. The contact was a woman, niece of the late
Turban Orr. Lady Sedara.'
    'And the mission?'
    'It seems this realm is home to numerous entities, powers
long forgotten, buried in antiquity. The mission involved
an