A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

themselves with Adjunct Tavore, these foreigners perceived in her something we do not? I wonder what it
might be.'
    'I cannot imagine their motives, Empress, for I have yet
to meet them.'
    'Do you wish to, Pearl?'
    As I anticipated. 'In truth, those motives are of little
interest to me.'
    'It would seem that not much is these days, Pearl. With
you.'
    And who has made that particular report, Empress? He
shrugged, said nothing.
    'The fleet is anchoring in the bay,' the Empress suddenly
said, and she stepped up to stand beside Pearl, her gloved
hands resting on the battered stone. 'There, two ships only,
sliding forward to dock. What does she believe, to have
issued such orders? And, perhaps more significantly, why
has Admiral Nok not countermanded her – the
signal flags are lit, after all. There can be no mistaking my
command.'
    'Empress,' said Pearl, 'there are not enough berths for this
fleet in the entire harbour. It may be that the ships will
dock in a particular order—'
    'No.'
    He fell silent, but he could feel sweat prickling beneath
his clothes.
    'Her first move,' the Empress whispered, and there was
something like excitement – or dark satisfaction – in her
tone.
    A squeal sounded from the weather vane atop the tower
behind them, and Pearl shivered. Aye, on a night with no
wind ... He looked down upon the city, and saw torchlight
in the streets. Sparks to tinder, the word of the arrival in the
bay races from mouth to mouth, eager as lust. The Wickans
have returned, and now the mob gathers ... the rage awakens.
    Thus, Empress – you need those ships to close, you need the
lines drawn fast.
    You need the victims to disembark, to bring the flames to a
roar.
    She turned about then. 'Follow me.'
    Back along the watch-mount, across the causeway span
to the keep itself. Her strides sure, almost eager. Beneath
the arched entranceway, between the two cloaked, hooded
forms of Claws – he felt their warrens held open, power
roiling invisibly from their unseen hands.
    A long, poorly lit corridor, the pavestones humped
where subsurface settling had occurred, marking where an
enormous crack was riven through the entire fortress. One
day, this whole damned place will tumble into the bay, and good
riddance. Of course, the engineers and mages had assured
everyone that such a risk was half a century away, or longer.
Too bad.
    An intersection, the Empress leading him to the left – oh
yes, she was familiar with this place. Where she had, years
ago, assassinated the Emperor and Dancer. Assassination. If
you could call it that. More like inadvertently aided and abetted. Along another canted corridor, and finally to the doors of
a meeting chamber. Where stood two more Claws, the one
on the left turning upon sighting them and tugging open
the left door, in time for the Empress to pass within without
change of pace.
    Pearl followed, his steps suddenly slowing as soon as he
stepped into the room.
    Before him, a long T-shaped table. A tribunal arrangement.
He found himself at its intersection. A raised chair
marked the head, up the length of the axis, and that modest
throne was flanked by figures already seated, although they
both rose with Laseen's arrival.
    Mallick Rel.
    And Korbolo Dom.
    Pearl struggled to keep the disgust from his face.
Immediately before him were the backs of three chairs
along the horizontal span. He hesitated. 'Where, Empress,'
he asked, 'shall I sit?'
    Settling into the throne, she regarded him for a moment,
then one thin brow rose. 'Pearl, I do not expect you to be
present. After all, you indicated you had no particular
interest in seeing the Adjunct again, and so I shall relieve
you of that burden.'
    'I see. Then what would you have me do?'
    The Jhistal priest on her right cleared his throat, then
said, 'A burdensome but essential mission, Pearl, falls upon
you. Organization is required, yes? The dispatch of a Hand,
which you will find assembled at the Gate. A solitary
killing. A drunkard who frequents Coop's Hanged Man
Inn. His name: Banaschar. Thereafter, you may return to
your quarters to await further instruction.'
    Pearl's eyes remained fixed on the Empress, locked with
her own, but she gave nothing away, as if daring him to ask
what he so longed to: Does a Claw take his orders from a
Jhistal priest of Mael now? A man delivered here in chains not
so long ago? But, he knew, her silence gave him his answer.
He broke his gaze from her and studied Korbolo Dom. The
Napan bastard was wearing the