A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

– Claws,
maybe, and you know how I like killing those. I could make
things more confused, like they should be—'
    'You'll get torn to pieces, you idiot. No, you stay here,
we're undermanned enough as it is.'
    Koryk crouched down near Tarr and Smiles. 'Fid keeps
doing this, doesn't he?'
    'Relax,' Tarr said. 'If need be, me and Gesler's heavies
will hold the jetty.'
    'You're looking forward to that!' Smiles accused.
    'Why not? Since when did the Wickans deserve all this
hate? That mob's hungry for the Fourteenth, fine, why
disappoint them?'
    ''Cause we was ordered to stay aboard here,' Smiles said.
    'Easier holding the jetty than letting the bastards jump
down onto this deck.'
    'They'd jump right back off,' Koryk predicted, 'once they
see those heads.'
    'I'm itching for a fight, Koryk.'
    'Fine, Tarr, you go up and get yourself ready. Me, Smiles
and Cuttle will be right behind you, with a few dozen
sharpers.'
    Corabb Bhilan Thenu'alas joined them. The man was
strapping on a round-shield. 'I will flank you, Corporal
Tarr,' he said. 'I have found a cutlass and I have some skill
with that weapon.'
    'Appreciate the company,' Tarr said, then looked over to
where Shortnose, Flashwit, Uru Hela and Mayfly were
donning armour. 'Six in all, front line. Let them try and get
past us.'
    Cuttle reappeared, dragging a crate.
    'Pass 'em out, sapper,' Balm ordered. 'Then we all go up
top and give that mob a wave over.'
    Koryk loaded his crossbow, then pounded Tarr on the
shoulder. 'Let's go take a look. I'm in the mood to kill someone,
too.'
    The corporal straightened, then spat over the side.
'Aren't we all?'

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
    The Twins stood on their tower
as the slaughter began below
and the knuckles bouncing wild
to their delight, now turned sudden
sudden and sour and this game
they played – the mortals bleeding
and crying in the dark – they saw
it turn and the game they played
tossed to a new wind, a gale
not their own – and so the Twins
were played, oh how they were
played.
    Slayer's Moon
Vatan Urot
     
    W ithin sight of Rampart Way – the stairs leading up to Mock's
    Hold – Kalam Mekhar glanced behind them yet again. Furtive crowds were
    closing in, moving one and all, it seemed, back towards the harbour-front.
    Who was behind all of this? What possible reason could there be?
    The Fourteenth would not be dragged down into
slaughter. In fact, the only realistic outcome was the very
opposite. Hundreds of citizens could well die tonight,
before the rest broke and fled. True, there were but a
handful of marines at the jetty, but, Kalam well knew, they
had Moranth munitions. And then, of course, there was
Quick Ben.
    Just don't use yourself up, friend. I think ... The assassin
reached beneath the folds of his cloak, reassured himself
once again that he still carried the acorn the High Mage
had prepared for him. My shaved knuckle in the hole. If it
came to it, he could summon Quick. And I'm dunking ...
    The Adjunct did not hesitate, beginning her ascent of
Rampart Way. The others followed.
    A long climb ahead, a tiring one, rows upon rows of steps
that had seen more than their share of spilled blood. Kalam
had few pleasant memories of Rampart Way. She's up there,
and so it flows down, ever down. They were above the level
of the Upper Estates now, passing through a roiling
updraught of mists bitter with woodsmoke. Condensation
clung to the stone wall on their left, as if the promontory
itself had begun to sweat.
    There was torchlight weaving through the streets below.
City Watch alarms sounded here and there, and suddenly
an estate was in flames, black smoke rising, eerily lit from
beneath. Faint screams reached them.
    And they climbed without pause, not a single word
shared among them. Naught but the muted clunk and
rustle of armour, the scrape of boots, heavier breaths drawn
with each step. The blurred moon emerged to throw a
sickly light upon the city below and the bay, illuminating
Old Lookout Island at the very outside edge of the
harbour, the silvery reeds of Mud Island and, further south,
opposite the mouth of Redcave River, Worm Island, where
stood the ruins of a long abandoned temple of D'rek. The
clear water this side of Mud Island was crowded with
the transports, while Nok's escorts were positioned between
those transports and the four Quon dromons of Empress
Laseen's entourage, the latter still moored alongside the
Imperial Docks directly beneath Mock's Hold.
    The world suddenly seemed etched small to