A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

Take My Life
The Wickan Pogrom
Kayessan
     
    A s the longboat from the Jakatakan fleet's flagship
drew up alongside, the commander and four
marines quickly clambered aboard the Froth Wolf.
    They were Untan, one and all, bedecked in elaborate,
expensive armour, the commander tall, weak-chinned with
a watery, uneasy look in his pale eyes. He saluted Admiral
Nok first, and then the Adjunct.
    'We were not expecting you for months, Adjunct
Tavore.'
    Arms crossed, Fist Keneb stood a short distance away,
leaning against the mainmast. After the commander's
words, Keneb shifted his attention to the marines. Is that
parade kit you're wearing? And then he noticed their
expressions of disdain and hatred as the soldiers stared over
to where stood Nil and Nether. Keneb glanced round, then
hesitated.
    The Adjunct spoke, 'Your name, Commander?'
    A slight bow. 'My apologies, Adjunct. I am Exent Hadar,
of House Hadar in Unta, firstborn—'
    'I know the family,' Tavore cut in, rather sharply.
'Commander Hadar, tell your marines to stand down immediately
– if I see one more hand casually touch a sword
grip they can swim back to your ship.'
    The commander's pale eyes flicked to Admiral Nok, who
said nothing.
    Keneb relaxed – he had been about to walk over to strip
the hides from those fools. Adjunct Tavore, you miss nothing,
do you? Ever. Why do you continue to surprise me? No, wrong
way of putting that – why am I constantly surprised?
    'Apologies again,' Hadar said, his insincerity obvious as
he gestured to his guards. 'There have been a succession of,
uh, revelations—'
    'Regarding what?'
    'Wickan complicity in the slaughter of Pormqual's Loyal
Army at Aren, Adjunct.'
    Keneb stared at the man, dumbfounded. 'Complicity?'
His voice was hoarse and the word barely made it out.
    The Adjunct's expression was as fierce as Keneb had ever
seen on the woman, but it was Admiral Nok who spoke
first. 'What insanity is this, Commander Hadar? The
loyalty and service of the Wickans was and remains beyond
reproach.'
    A shrug. 'As I said, Admiral. Revelations.'
    'Never mind that,' the Adjunct snapped. 'Commander,
what are you doing patrolling these waters?'
    'The Empress commanded that we extend our range,'
Hadar replied, 'for two reasons. Foremost, there have been
incursions from an unknown enemy in black warships. We
have had six engagements thus far. Initially, our ship mages
were not able to contend with the sorcery the black ships
employed, and accordingly we suffered in the exchanges.
Since then, however, we have increased the complement
and the calibre of our own cadres. Negating the sorcery in
the battles evened matters considerably.'
    'When was the last encounter?'
    'Two months past, Adjunct.'
    'And the other reason?'
    Another slight bow. 'Intercepting you, Adjunct. As I
said, however, we were not expecting you for some time.
Oddly enough, our precise position right now came by
direct command from the Empress herself, four days ago.
Needless to say, against this unseasonal gale, we were hard
pressed to make it here in time.'
    'In time for what?'
    Another shrug. 'Why, it turns out, to meet you. It seems obvious,'
    he added with condescension, 'that the Empress detected your early arrival.
    In such matters, she is all-knowing, and that is, of course, only to be expected.'
    Keneb watched as the Adjunct mulled on these developments,
then she said, 'And you are to be our escort to
Unta?'
    'No, Adjunct. I am to instruct you to change the course
of the imperial fleet.'
    'To where?'
    'Malaz City.'
    'Why?'
    Commander Hadar shook his head.
    'Tell me, if you know,' Tavore said, 'where is the Empress
right now?'
    'Well, Malaz City, I would think, Adjunct.'
     
    'See that marine on the left?' Kalam asked in a low whisper.
    'What of him?' Quick Ben asked with a shrug.
    'He's a Claw.'
    They stood on the forecastle deck, watching the proceedings
below. The air was fresh, warm, the seas
surprisingly gentle despite the hard, steady wind. Damned
near paradise, the assassin considered, after that wild three
days in the raw, tumultuous warren of Togg and Fanderay.
The ships of the fleet, barring those of the Perish, were
badly battered, especially the transports. None had gone
down, fortunately, nor had any sailor or marine been lost.
A few dozen horses, alas, had broken legs during the storms,
but such attrition was expected, and no-one begrudged
fresh meat in the stew-pots. Now, assuming this wind
stayed at their backs, Malaz Island was only two days