A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

by the women of your tribes, Fear. Setting aside
for the moment the curious fact that you know of it, how is
it the promise of redemption belongs only to the women?'
    'The warriors follow another path,' Fear replied. 'That I
know of the story – and the truth of Scabandari – is due to
my mother, who rejected the tradition of secrecy. Uruth
does not flee knowledge, and she would her sons do not
either—'
    'Then how do you explain Rhulad?' Udinaas asked.
    'Do not bait him,' Seren Pedac said to the slave. 'Rhulad
is accursed. By the sword in his hand, by the god who made
that sword.'
    'Rhulad was young,' Fear said, unconsciously wringing
his hands as he stared at the chamber's worn floor. 'There
was so much still to teach him. He sought to become a great
warrior, a heroic warrior. He was discomfited in the
shadows of his three older brothers, and this made him
precipitate.'
    'I think the god chose him . . . over Hannan Mosag,' said
Udinaas. 'Rhulad had no choice.'
    Fear studied Udinaas for a long moment, then he
nodded. 'If that is your belief, then you are far more
generous towards Rhulad than any Tiste Edur. Again and
again, Udinaas, you leave me unbalanced.'
    Udinaas closed his eyes as he leaned back against the
rough wall. 'He spoke to me, Fear, because I listened.
Something the rest of you never bothered doing – which
isn't that surprising, since your vaunted family order had
just been shattered. Your precious hierarchy was in disarray.
Shocking. Terrible. So, while he could not speak to you,
you in turn were unwilling to hear him. He was silent
and you were deaf to that silence. A typical mess – I don't
regret having no family.'
    'You lay all the blame at the foot of the chaotic god.'
    Udinaas opened his eyes, blinked for a moment, then
smiled. 'Too convenient by far. Now, if I was seeking
redemption, I'd leap on the back of that one, and ride the
beast all the way – to the cliff 's edge, then right over,
amen.'
    'Then . . . what?'
    'What to blame? Well, how should I know? I'm just a
worn-out slave. But if I had to guess, I'd look first at that
rigid hierarchy I mentioned earlier. It traps everyone, and
everyone makes sure it traps everyone else. Until none of
you can move, not side to side, not up either. You can move
down, of course – just do something no-one else likes.
Disapproval kicks out every rung of the ladder, and down
you go.'
    'So it is the way of living among the Tiste Edur.' Fear
snorted, looked away.
    'All right,' Udinaas said, sighing, 'let me ask you this.
Why wasn't that sword offered to some Letherii – a brilliant
officer of an army, a cold-blooded merchant prince? Why
not Ezgara himself? Or better still, his son, Quillas? Now
there was ambition and stupidity in perfect balance. And if
not a Letherii, then why not a Nerek shaman? Or a Fent or
a Tarthenal? Of course, all those others, well, those tribes
were mostly obliterated – at least, all the taboos, traditions
and rules of every sort that kept people in line – all gone,
thanks to the Letherii.'
    'Very well,' Seren Pedac said, 'why not a Letherii?'
    Udinaas shrugged. 'The wrong fatal flaws, obviously. The
Chained One recognized the absolute perfection of the
Tiste Edur – their politics, their history, their culture and
their political situation.'
    'Now I understand,' Fear murmured, his arms crossed.
    'Understand what?'
    'Why Rhulad so valued you, Udinaas. You were wasted
scraping fish scales all day when by the measure of your
intelligence and your vision, you could sit tall on any
kingdom's throne.'
    The slave's grin was hard with malice. 'Damn you, Fear
Sengar.'
    'How did that offend you?'
    'You just stated the central argument – both for and
against the institution of slavery. I was wasted, was I? Or of
necessity kept under firm heel. Too many people like me on
the loose and no ruler, tyrant or otherwise, could sit assured
on a throne. We would stir things up, again and again. We
would challenge, we would protest, we would defy. By being
enlightened, we would cause utter mayhem. So, Fear, kick
another basket of fish over here, it's better for everyone.'
    'Except you.'
    'No, even me. This way, all my brilliance remains ineffectual,
harmless to anyone and therefore especially to
myself, lest my lofty ideas loose a torrent of blood.'
    Seren Pedac grunted, 'You are frightened by your own
ideas, Udinaas?'
    'All the time, Acquitor. Aren't you?'
    She said nothing.
    'Listen,' Fear said. 'The chanting has stopped.'
    As usual,