A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

am
convinced that I am right. I've stumbled onto the first steps of
the path that will lead me to solving the mystery. Good.
    'What in Hood's name did you say to her?'
    Startled, Samar Dev looked over, to see the Taxilian
arrive at her side. 'Who? What? Oh, her.'
    'Be careful,' the man said. He waved a filthy hand in
front of his bruised, misshapen face. 'See this? Feather
Witch. I dare not fight back. I dare not even defend myself.
See it in her eyes – I think she was beaten herself, when a
child. That is how these things breed generation after
generation.'
    'Yes,' Samar said, surprised, 'I believe you are right.'
    He managed something like a grin. 'I was foolish enough
to be captured, yes, but that does not make me always a
fool.'
    'What happened?'
    'Pilgrimage, of sorts. I paid for passage on a drake – back
to Rutu Jelba – trying to flee the plague, and believe me, I
paid a lot.'
    Samar Dev nodded. Drakes were Tanno pilgrim ships,
heavy and stolid and safe against all but the fiercest storms,
and on board there would be a Tanno Spiritwalker or at the
very least a Tanno Mendicant. No plague could thrive on
such a ship – it had been a clever gamble, and drakes were
usually half-empty on their return journeys.
    'Dawn broke, a mere two days away from Rutu Jelba,' the
Taxilian continued, 'and we were surrounded by foreign
ships – this fleet. The Spiritwalker sought to communicate,
then when it became evident that these Edur viewed us as
a prize, to negotiate. Gods below, woman, the sorcery they
unleashed upon him! Awful, it sickened the very air. He
resisted – a lot longer than they expected, I've since
learned – long enough to cause them considerable consternation
– but he fell in the end, the poor bastard. The Edur
chose one of us, me as it turned out, and cut open the
others and flung them to the sharks. They needed a translator,
you see.'
    'And what, if I may ask, is your profession?'
    'Architect, in Taxila. No, not famous. Struggling.' He
shrugged. 'A struggle I would willingly embrace right now.'
    'You are working deceit when teaching Feather Witch.'
    He nodded.
    'She knows.'
    'Yes, but for the moment she can do nothing about it.
This part of the fleet is resupplied – we'll not be heading
landward for some time, and as for Seven Cities ships to
capture, well, the plague's emptied the seas, hasn't it?
Besides, we will be sailing west. For now, I'm safe. And,
unless Feather Witch is a lot smarter than I think she is, it
will be a long time before she comes to comprehension.'
    'How are you managing it?'
    'I am teaching her four languages, all at once, and making
no distinction among them, not even the rules of
syntax. For each word I give her four in translation, then
think up bizarre rules for selecting one over another
given the context. She's caught me out but once. So.
Malazan, the Taxilii Scholar's Dialect, the Ehrlii variant of
the common tongue, and, from my grandfather's sister,
tribal Rangala.'
    'Rangala? I thought that was extinct.'
    'Not until she dies, and I'd swear that old hag's going to
live for ever.'
    'What is your name?'
    He shook his head. 'There is power in names – no, I do
not distrust you – it is these Tiste Edur. And Feather Witch
– if she discovers my name—'
    'She can compel you. I understand. Well, in my mind I
think of you as the Taxilian.'
    'That will suffice.'
    'I am Samar Dev, and the warrior I came with is Toblakai
... Sha'ik's Toblakai. He calls himself Karsa Orlong.'
    'You risk much, revealing your names—'
    'The risk belongs to Feather Witch. I surpass her in the
old arts. As for Karsa, well, she is welcome to try.' She
glanced at him. 'You said we were sailing west?'
    He nodded. 'Hanradi Khalag commands just under half
the fleet – the rest is somewhere east of here. They have
both been sailing back and forth along this coast for some
months, almost half a year, in fact. Like fisher fleets, but the
catch they seek walks on two legs and wields a sword.
Discovering remnant kin was unexpected, and the state
those poor creatures were in simply enraged these Edur. I do
not know where the two fleets intend to merge – somewhere
west of Sepik, I think. Once that happens,' he
shrugged, 'we set a course for their empire.'
    'And where is that?'
    Another shrug. 'Far away, and beyond that, I can tell you
nothing.'
    'Far away indeed. I have never heard of an empire of
humans ruled by Tiste Edur. And yet, this Letherii
language. As you noted it is somehow related to