A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

on another deck, and
directly ahead, steps leading down. Abyss take me, that was
fast. Fast and ... appalling. Quick Ben waved them into his
wake as he descended, ducking the frame, then halting
three strides down the corridor, knocking upon a door to
his left. It opened at once.
    T'amber, the eyes that gave her her name scanning the
three men cramped in the narrow corridor. Then she
stepped back.
    The Adjunct stood behind her chair at the map-table.
The rest were seated, and Bottle stared wildly from one to
the next. Fist Keneb. Apsalar. Kalam Mekhar.
    A low moan from Fiddler.
    'Sergeant,' the Adjunct said, 'you have your players.'
    Players?
    Oh.
    Oh no.
     
    'I really don't think this is a good idea,' the sergeant said.
    'Perhaps,' the Adjunct replied.
    'I agree,' T'amber said. 'Or, rather, my participation ...
as a player. As I said earlier, Tavore—'
    'Nonetheless,' the Adjunct cut in, drawing out the
empty chair opposite the one reserved for Fiddler and
sitting herself down on Keneb's left. She pulled her gloves
free. 'Explain the rules, please.'
    Keneb watched as Fiddler cast helpless, desperate looks
to both Kalam and Quick Ben, but neither would meet his
eyes, and both were clearly miserable. Then the sergeant
slowly walked over to the last chair. He settled into it.
'That's just it, Adjunct, there ain't no rules, except those I
make up as I go.'
    'Very well. Begin.'
    Fiddler scratched at his greying beard, his eyes fixing on
T'amber who sat to the Adjunct's left, directly opposite
Keneb. 'This is your Deck,' he said, lifting it into view
and setting it down on the tabletop. 'It has new cards
in it.'
    'Your point?' the young woman demanded.
    'Just this. Who in Hood's name are you?'
    A shrug. 'Does it matter?'
    A grunt from Kalam Mekhar on Keneb's right. Beyond
the assassin, on the same side and immediately to Fiddler's
left was Apsalar. Bottle was on the sergeant's right, with the
High Mage beside him. The only one who really doesn't belong
is me. Where's Blistig? Nok? Temul, Nil and Nether?
    'Last chance,' Fiddler said to the Adjunct. 'We stop this
now—'
    'Begin, Sergeant.'
    'Bottle, find us some wine.'
    'Sergeant?'
    'First rule. Wine. Everybody gets a cup. Except the
dealer, he gets rum. Go to it, Bottle.'
    As the young soldier rose Fiddler collected the cards.
'Player on dealer's right has to serve drinks during the first
hand.' He flung out a card, face-down, and it slid crookedly
to halt in front of Quick Ben. 'High Mage has last card.
Last card's dealt out first, but not shown until the end.'
    Bottle came back with cups. He set the first one down in
front of the Adjunct, then T'amber, Keneb, Quick, Kalam,
Apsalar, Fiddler and finally one into the place before his
empty chair. As he returned with two jugs, one of wine and
the other Falari rum, Fiddler held up a hand and halted
him.
    In quick succession the sergeant flung out cards, matching
the order Bottle had used in setting down the cups.
    Suddenly, eight face-up cards marked the field, and
Fiddler, gesturing Bottle over with the rum, began talking.
'Dealer gets Soldier of High House Life but it's bittersweet,
meaning it's for him and him alone, given this late hour.
Empty chair gets Weaver of Life and she needs a bath but
nobody's surprised by that. So we got two Life's to start.'
Fiddler watched as Bottle poured rum into his cup. 'And
that's why Kalam's looking at an Unaligned. Obelisk, the
Sleeping Goddess – you're getting a reversed field, Kal,
sorry but there's nothing to be done for it.' He downed his
rum and held out his cup again, interrupting Bottle's efforts
to fill the others with wine. 'Apsalar's got Assassin of High
House Shadow, oh, isn't that a surprise. It's the only card
she gets—'
    'You mean I win?' she asked, one brow lifting
sardonically.
    'And lose, too. Nice move, interrupting me like that,
you're catching on. Now, nobody else say a damned thing
unless you want to up the ante.' He drank down his second
cupful. 'Poor Quick Ben, he's got Lifeslayer to deal with,
and that puts him in a hole, but not the hole he thinks he's
in – a different hole. Now T'amber, she's opened the game
with that card. Throne, and it's shifting every which way.
The pivot card, then—'
    'What's a pivot card?' Bottle asked, finally sitting down.
    'Bastard – knew I couldn't trust you. It's the hinge, of
course. Finish that wine – you got to drink rum now. You're
a sharp one, ain't you? Now Fist Keneb, well, that's a
curious one. Lord of Wolves,