A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

why they didn't
kill me there and then. Or just leave me for the Letherii.'
    'There are levels to betrayal, Anaster Toc; limits to what
even the Awl can stomach. They could run from the battle,
but they could not draw a blade across your throat.'
    'Well, that's a comforting relief. Apologies. I have always
been prone to facetious commentary. I suppose I should be
thankful, but I'm not.'
    'Of course you're not,' Redmask said. They were
approaching the broad hide awning protecting the rodaraskin
maps the war leader had drawn – mostly from what he
could recall of Letherii military maps he had seen. These
new maps had been stretched out on the ground, pegged
down, arrayed like pieces of a puzzle to create a single
rendition of a vast area – one that included the south
border kingdoms. 'But you are a soldier, Anaster Toc, and I
have need of soldiers.'
    'So, you seek an agreement between us.'
    'I do.'
    'A binding of words.'
    'Yes.'
    'And what if I choose to leave? To walk away?'
    'You will be permitted and given a horse and supplies.
You may ride east or southeast or indeed north, although
there is nothing to be found to the north. But not west, not
southwest.'
    'Not to the Lether Empire, in other words.'
    'Correct. I do not know what vengeance you hold close
to your wounded soul. I do not know if you would betray
the Awl – to answer their betrayal of you. For which I
would not blame you in the least. I have no desire to have
to kill you and this is why I forbid you to ride to Lether.'
    'I see.'
    Redmask studied the map in the crepuscular light. The
black lines seemed to be fading into oblivion before him. 'It
is my thought, however, to appeal to your desire for
vengeance against the Letherii.'
    'Rather than the Awl.'
    'Yes.'
    'You believe you can defeat them.'
    'I shall, Anaster Toc.'
    'By preparing fields of battle well in advance. Well, as a
tactic I would not gainsay it. Assuming the Letherii are
foolish enough to position themselves precisely where you
want them.'
    'They are arrogant,' Redmask said. 'Besides, they have no
choice. They wish to avenge the slaughter of settlements
and the theft of herds they call their property – even
though they stole them from us. They wish to punish us,
and so will be eager to cross blades.'
    'Using cavalry, infantry, archers and mages.'
    'Yes.'
    'How do you intend to negate those mages, Redmask?'
    'I will not tell you, yet.'
    'In case I leave, circle round and somehow elude you and
your hunters.'
    'The chance of that is remote.'
    At the foreigner's smile, Redmask continued, 'I
understand you are a skilled rider, but I would not send Awl
after you. I would send my K'Chain Che'Malle.'
    Anaster Toc had turned and he seemed to be studying
the encampment, the rows upon rows of tents, the
wreathed dung smoke of the fires. 'You have fielded what,
ten, twelve thousand warriors?'
    'Closer to fifteen.'
    'Yet you have broken up the clans.'
    'I have.'
    'In the manner needed to field something resembling a
professional army. You must shift their loyalty from the old
blood-ties. I've seen you badgering your troop commanders,
ensuring that they will follow your commands in battle.
I've seen them in turn badgering their squad leaders, and
the squad leaders their squads.'
    'You are a soldier, Anaster Toc.'
    'And I hated every moment of it, Redmask.'
    'That matters not. Tell me of your Grey Swords, the
tactics they employed.'
    'That won't be much help. I could, however, tell you of
the army I originally belonged to, before the Grey Swords.'
He glanced over with his one glittering eye, and Redmask
saw amusement there, a kind of mad hilarity that left him
uneasy. 'I could tell you of the Malazans.'
    'I have not heard of that tribe.'
    Anaster Toc laughed again. 'Not a tribe. An empire. An
empire three, four times the size of Lether.'
    'You will stay, then?'
    Anaster Toc shrugged. 'For now.'
    There was nothing simple to this man, Redmask realized.
    Mad indeed, but it could prove a useful madness. 'Then
how,' he asked, 'do the Malazans win their wars?'
    The foreigner's twisted smile gleamed in the dusk, like
the flash of a knife. 'This could take a while, Redmask.'
    'I will send for food.'
    'And oil lamps – I can't make out a damned thing on
your map.'
    'Do you approve of my intent, Anaster Toc?'
    'To create a professional army? Yes, it's essential, but it
will change everything. Your people, your culture, everything.'
He paused, then added in a dry, mocking tone,
'You'll need a new song.'
    'Then