A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

obvious.
Word was going through the ranks that Tavore was likely in
line for demotion – Y'Ghatan could have been handled
better. Every damned soldier turned out to be a tactical
genius when it came to that, and more than once Pores had
bitten out a chunk of soldier meat for some treasonous
comment. It didn't matter that Nok and Tavore were feuding;
it didn't matter that Tene Baralta was a seething
cauldron of sedition among the officers; it didn't even matter
that Pores himself was undecided whether the Adjunct
could have done better at Y'Ghatan – the rumours alone
were as poisonous as any plague the Grey Goddess could
spit out.
    He was both looking forward to and dreading boarding
the transports, and the long, tedious journey ahead. Bored
soldiers were worse than woodworm in the keel – or so the
sailors kept saying, as they cast jaded eyes on the dusty,
swearing men and women who ascended the ramps only to
fall silent, huddling like shorn sheep in the raft-like scuttles
as the heave and haul chant rang out over the choppy
water. Worse still, seas and oceans were nasty things.
Soldiers would face death with nary a blink if they knew
they could fight back, maybe even fight their way out of it,
but the sea was immune to swinging swords, whistling
arrows and shield-walls. And Hood knows, we've been
swallowing that lumpy helpless thing enough as it is.
    Damned cattle-dogs were all letting loose now.
    Now what? Unsure of his own reasons, Pores set off in the
direction Bent had gone. East on the track, past
the command tent, then the inner ring of pickets, and out
towards the latrine trenches – and the lieutenant saw the
racing figures of a dozen or so cattle-dogs, their mottled,
tanned shapes converging, then circling with wild barking
– and on the road, the subjects of their excitement, a troop
approaching on foot.
    So who in the Queen's name are they? The outriders were
all in – he was sure of that – he'd seen the Seti practising
heaving their guts up on the ramps – they got seasick standing
in a puddle. And the Wickans had already surrendered
their mounts to the harried transport crews.
    Pores glanced round, saw a soldier leading three horses
towards the strand. 'Hey! Hold up there.' He walked over.
'Give me one of those.'
    'They ain't saddled, sir.'
    'Really? How can you tell?'
    The man started pointing at the horse's back—
    'Idiot,' Pores said, 'give me those reins, no, those ones.'
    'That's the Adjunct's—'
    'Thought I recognized it.' He pulled the beast away then
vaulted onto its back. Then set off onto the road. The
foundling, Grub, was walking out from the camp, at one
ankle that yipping mutt that looked like what a cow would
regurgitate after eating a mohair rug. Ignoring them, Pores
angled his mount eastward, and kicked it into a canter.
    He could already put a name to the one in the lead.
Captain Faradan Sort. And there was that High Mage,
Quick Ben, and that scary assassin Kalam, and – gods below,
but they're all – no, they weren't. Marines! Damned marines!
    He heard shouts from the camp behind him now, an
alarm being raised outside the command tent.
    Pores could not believe his own eyes. Survivors – from
the firestorm – that was impossible. Granted, they look
rough, half-dead in fact. Like Hood used 'em to clean out his
hoary ears. There's Lostara Yil – well, she ain't as bad as the
rest —
    Lieutenant Pores reined in before Faradan Sort.
'Captain—'
    'We need water,' she said, the words barely making it out
between chapped, cracked and blistered lips.
    Gods, they look awful. Pores wheeled his horse round,
nearly slipping off the animal's back in the process.
Righting himself, he rode back towards the camp.
     
    As Keneb and Temul reached the main track, thirty paces
from the command tent, they saw the Adjunct appear, and,
a moment later, Blistig, and then T'amber. Soldiers were
shouting something as yet incomprehensible from the
eastern end of the camp.
    The Adjunct turned towards her two approaching Fists.
'It seems my horse has gone missing.'
    Keneb's brows rose. 'Thus the alarms? Adjunct—'
    'No, Keneb. A troop has been spotted on the east road.'
    'A troop? We're being attacked?'
    'I do not think so. Well, accompany me, then. It seems
we shall have to walk. And this will permit you, Fist Keneb,
to explain the fiasco that occurred regarding the boarding
of your company.'
    'Adjunct?'
    'I find your sudden incompetence unconvincing.'
    He glanced across at her. There was the