A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

Tiste
Edur to rid the empire of Letherii corruption seemed more
than plausible. They had been occupiers long enough to
come to understand the empire they had won; to begin
to realize that a far more subtle conquest had taken place,
of which they were the losers.
    The Tiste Edur were, above all else, a proud people. Not
likely to abide defeat, and the fact that the victors were, by
their measure, cowards in the true sense of the term would
sting all the more. So she was not surprised that Brohl
Handar and his fellow Edur had at last begun a campaign of
eradication against the Letherii running the state. Not surprising, either, the extent to which the Edur have underestimated their enemy.
    'Sir, I am an officer in the Imperial Army. My
commander is the Emperor himself.'
    'The Emperor rules us all, Atri-Preda,' Letur Anict had
said with a faint smile. 'The conspiracy among his kind
directly threatens his loyal support structure – those who
endeavour, at great personal sacrifice, to maintain that
apparatus.'
    'People such as yourself.'
    'Indeed.'
    'What are you asking of me, sir?'
    'Brohl Handar will insist on accompanying your punitive
expedition. I believe it is his intent to claim territories
reconquered for himself ' – a wave of one hand – 'no doubt
in the name of the empire or some such meaningless nonsense.'
    You mean, as you have done?
    'I will try to talk him out of it,' she said. 'It's not safe—'
    'Indeed it isn't. Precisely my point.' After a moment, Letur
Anict leaned back. 'You will, alas, not win your argument.
    The Overseer will march with you, accepting the risks.'
    The risks, yes. Imagining they come from the Awl.
    'I will do all I can to preserve his life,' Bivatt said.
    A spread of hands. 'Of course. That is your duty, and we
both know how treacherous the Awl can be, especially as
they are now commanded by none other than Redmask.
Who can say what dread ambushes he has contrived to
spring upon you, with the principal aim of murdering
commanders and other important personages. Indeed, Atri-Preda, you have your duty and I would expect no less from
you. But I do remind you, Brohl Handar is engaged in
treason.'
    'Then have Orbyn Truthfinder arrest him.' If he dares, for that will bring it all out into the open, and you're not ready for that.
    'We will,' the Factor then said, 'be prepared for his
return.'
    So soon? 'Has the Emperor been informed of these
developments, sir?'
    'He has. The Patriotists would not be engaged in this
hunt were it not so – I am sure you understand that,
Atri-Preda.'
    She believed she did. Even Karos Invictad would
not proceed without some sort of sanction. 'Is that all,
sir?'
    'It is. Errant smile on your hunt, Atri-Preda.'
    'Thank you, sir.'
    And now, everything had proceeded to match the
Factor's predictions. Brohl Handar would accompany
the expedition, refuting her every argument against the
idea. Reading his expression, she saw a renewed confidence
and will – the Overseer felt as if he had found, at last, firm
footing. No error in his recognition of his true enemy. The
unmitigated disaster lay in the Edur's belief that he had
made the first move.
    She said now to the Overseer, 'Sir, if you will excuse me.
I must have words with my officers.'
    'Of course,' Brohl Handar replied. 'When do you
anticipate contacting the enemy?'
    Oh, you fool, you already have. 'That depends, sir, on
whether they're fleeing, or coming straight for us.'
    The Overseer's brows lifted. 'Do you fear this Redmask?'
    'Fear that yields respect is not a bad thing, sir. In that
fashion, yes, I fear Redmask. As he will me, before too long.'
    She rode away then, down to her troops, seeking out, not
an officer, but one man in particular, a horseman among
the Bluerose, taller and duskier than most.
    After a time she found him, gestured him to ride out to
her side, and they walked their horses along one edge of the
road. She spoke of two things, one loud enough to be heard
by others and concerning the health of the mounts and
other such mundane details; the other in much quieter
tones, which no-one but the man could hear.
    'What can you see of the horizon's bruised smear, that
cannot be blotted out by a raised hand?'
    Redmask glanced over at the foreigner.
    Anaster Toc smiled. 'Lying in a ditch amidst the wastes
of humanity is something I would recommend to any
nascent poet. The rhythms of ebb and flow, the legacy of
what we discard. Wealth like liquid gold.'
    Not entirely sane any more, Redmask judged,