A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 3

serfs, nameless peasants and labour' ers, the blurred faces in the crowd – just a smear on memory, a scuffing of feet down the side passages of history.
    Can one stop, can one turn and force one's eyes to pierce the gloom? And see the fallen? Can one ever see the fallen? And if so, what emotion is born in that moment?
    There were tears on his cheeks, dripping down onto his chafed hands. He knew the answer to that question, knife-sharp and driven deep, and the answer was ... recognition.
    Hull Beddict moved to stand beside Seren Pedac as Mayen walked away. Behind them, the Nerek were speaking in their native tongue, harsh and fast words, taut with disbelief. Rain hissed in the cookfires.
    'She should not have done that,' Hull said.
    'No,' Seren agreed, 'she should not have. Still, I am not quite certain what has just happened. They were just words, after all. Weren't they?'
    'She didn't proclaim them guests, Seren. She blessed their arrival.'
    The Acquitor glanced back at the Nerek, frowned at their flushed, nervous expressions. 'What are they talking about?'
    'It's the old dialect – there are trader words in it that I understand, but many others that I don't.'
    'I didn't know the Nerek had two languages.'
    'Their name is mentioned in the annals of the First Landings,' Hull said. 'They are the indigenous people whose territory spanned the entire south. There were Nerek watching the first ships approach. Nerek who came to greet the first Letherii to set foot on this continent. Nerek who traded, taught the colonizers how to live in this land, gave them the medicines against the heat fevers. They have been here a long, long time. Two languages? I'm surprised there aren't a thousand.'
    'Well,' Seren Pedac said after a moment, 'at least they're animated once more. They'll eat, do as Buruk commands—'
    'Yes. But I sense a new fear among them – not one to incapacitate, but the source of troubled thoughts. It seems that even they do not comprehend the full significance of that blessing.'
    'This was never their land, was it?'
    'I don't know. The Edur certainly claim to have always been here, from the time when the ice first retreated from the world.'
    'Oh yes, I'd forgotten. Their strange creation myths. Lizards and dragons and ice, a god-king betrayed.'
    After a moment she glanced over, and saw him staring at her.
    'What is it, Hull?'
    'How do you know such things? It was years before Binadas Sengar relinquished such information to me, and that as a solemn gift following our binding.'
    Seren blinked. 'I heard it... somewhere. I suppose.' She shrugged, wiping rainwater from her face. 'Everyone has some sort of creation myth. Nonsense, typically. Or actual memories all jumbled up and infused with magic and miracles.'
    'You are being surprisingly dismissive, Acquitor.'
    'And what do the Nerek believe?'
    'That they were all born of a single mother, countless generations past, who was the thief of fire and walked through time, seeking that which might answer a need that consumed her – although she could never discover the nature of that need. One time, in her journey, she took within her a sacred seed, and so gave birth to a girl-child. To all outward appearances,' he continued, 'that child was little different from her mother, for the sacredness was hidden, and so it remains hidden to this day. Within the Nerek, who are the offspring of that child.'
    'And by this, the Nerek justify their strange patriarchy.'
    'Perhaps,' Hull conceded, 'although it is the female line that is taken as purest.'
    'And does this first mother's mother have a name?'
    'Ah, you noted the confused blending of the two, as if they were roles rather than distinct individuals. Maiden, mother and grandmother, a progression through time—'
    'Discounting the drudgery spent as wife. Wisdom unfurls like a flower in a pile of dung.'
    His gaze sharpened on her. 'In any case, she is known by a number of related names, also suggesting variations of a single person. Eres, N'eres, Eres'al.'
    'And this is what lies at the heart of the Nerek ancestor worship?'
    'Was, Seren Pedac. You forget, their culture is destroyed.'
    'Cultures can die, Hull, but the people live on, and what they carry within them are the seeds of rebirth—'
    'A delusion, Seren Pedac,' he replied. 'Whatever might be born of that is twisted, weak, a self-mockery.'
    'Even stone changes. Nothing can stand still—'
    'Yet we would. Wouldn't we? Oh, we talk of progress, but what we really desire