A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

those, Tavore, I need
you at my side to complement the Jhistal priest. You see
before you the restructuring of the imperial high command.
A new First Sword now assumes overall command of the
Malazan Armies. The time has come, Tavore, to set aside
your own sword.'
    Silence. From Tavore, no movement, not a single twitch
of emotion. 'As you command, Empress.'
    Beneath his clothes, Kalam felt his skin grow hot, as if
close to blistering flames. Sweat ran down his body; he
could feel it beading on his face and neck. He stared down
at his leather-clad hands, motionless on the worn wood of
the tabletop.
    'I am pleased,' Laseen said.
    'It will be necessary,' Tavore said, 'for me to return,
briefly, to the docks. I believe Fist Keneb will doubt the
veracity of the change of command if informed by anyone
but me.'
    'A most loyal man,' Mallick Rel murmured.
    'Yes, he is that.'
    'And these Perish?' Korbolo Dom demanded. 'Are they
worth the trouble? Will they submit to my authority?'
    'I cannot speak for them in that matter,' Tavore said
tonelessly. 'But they will not reject any overtures out of
hand. As for their prowess, I believe it will suffice, at least
in an auxiliary function to our regulars.'
    'There is nothing more to them?'
    The Adjunct's shrug was careless. 'They are foreigners,
First Sword. Barbarians.'
    Barbarians sailing the finest warships on the damned ocean,
aye.
    But Korbolo Dom, in all his percipience and razor-honed
judgement, simply nodded.
    Another moment of silence, in which so many things
could have been said, in which the course of the Malazan
Empire could have found firmer footing. Silence, and yet to
Kalam it seemed he could hear the slamming of doors, the
clatter and crunch of portcullis dropping, and he saw hallways,
avenues, where the flickering light dimmed, then
vanished.
    If the Empress were to speak then, with words for the
Adjunct alone – anything, any overture that did not ring
false—
    Mallick Rel said, 'Adjunct, there is the matter of two
Wickans, a warlock and a witch.'
    Tavore's eyes remained on Laseen. 'Of course.
Fortunately, they are ineffectual, a consequence of the
trauma they experienced with Coltaine's death.'
    'Nonetheless, the Claw will effect their arrest.'
    The Empress said, 'It cannot be helped, Tavore. Even with
a remnant of their old power, they could unleash slaughter
upon the citizens of Malaz City, and that we cannot have.'
    'The blood this night belongs to the Wickans and the
Khundryl.' A statement from the Adjunct, devoid of all
emotion.
    'It must be so,' the Jhistal priest murmured, as if struck
anew by grief.
    'Tavore,' Laseen said, 'will the Khundryl prove recalcitrant
in yielding their arms and armour? Do they not
number two thousand, or more?'
    'A word from me will suffice,' the Adjunct said.
    'I am greatly relieved,' the Empress said, with a faint
smile, 'that you now comprehend the necessity of what will
occur this night. In the broader scheme of things, Tavore,
the sacrifice is modest. It is also clear that the Wickans
have outlived their usefulness – the old covenants with the
tribes must be dispensed with, now that Seven Cities and its
harvest have become so thoroughly disrupted. In other words,
we need the Wickan Plains. The herds must be slaughtered
and the earth broken, crops planted. Seven Cities has provided
us a harsh lesson when it comes to relying upon distant
lands for the resources the empire consumes.'
    'In this way,' Mallick Rel said, spreading his hands,
'necessity is an economic matter, yes? That an ignorant and
backward people must be eradicated is sad, indeed, but alas,
inevitable.'
    'You would well know of that,' Tavore said to him. 'The
Gedorian Falari cult of the Jhistal was eradicated in a
similar manner by Emperor Kellanved, after all. Presumably
you are among the very few survivors from that time.'
    Mallick Rel's round, oiled face slowly drained of what
little colour it had possessed.
    The Adjunct continued, 'A very minor note in the
imperial histories, difficult to find. I believe, however,
should you peruse the works of Duiker, you will find
suitable references. Of course, "minor" is a relative term,
just as, I suppose, this Wickan Pogrom will be seen in later
histories. For the Wickans themselves, of course, it will be
anything but minor.'
    'Your point, woman?' Mallick Rel asked.
    'It is useful, on occasion, to halt upon a path, and to turn
and walk back some distance.'
    'Achieving what?'
    'An understanding of motivations, Jhistal.