A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

wooden posts
arranged in a rectangle, the posts little more than rotted
stumps now, rising from the flood's remnant pools.
    At the edge of the upper level, workers, under Rautos's
direction, had used wood bulwarks to keep it from collapsing,
and to one side sat a wheelbarrow filled with the
multitude of curious objects that had been exposed by the
floodwaters. These items had littered the cobbled floor.
    In all, Rautos mused, a mystery. There was no record
whatsoever of the lower terrace garden's being anything but
what it was, and the notations from the garden's designer –
from shortly after the completion of the estate's main buildings
– indicated the bank at that level was nothing more
than ancient flood silts.
    The clay had preserved the wood, at least until recently,
so there was no telling how long ago the strange construct
had been built. The only indication of its antiquity rested
with the objects, all of which were either bronze or copper.
Not weapons, as one might find associated with a barrow,
and if tools, then they were for activities long forgotten,
since not a single worker Rautos had brought to this place
was able to fathom the function of these items – they
resembled no known tools, not for stone working, nor
wood, nor the processing of foodstuffs.
    Rautos collected one and examined it, for at least the
hundredth time. Bronze, clay-cast – the flange was clearly
visible – the item was long, roundish, yet bent at almost
right angles. Incisions formed a cross-hatched pattern
about the elbow. Neither end displayed any means of
attachment – not intended, therefore, as part of some larger
mechanism. He hefted its considerable weight in his hand.
There was something imbalanced about it, despite the
centrally placed bend. He set it down and drew out a
circular sheet of copper, thinner than the wax layer on
a scrier's tablet. Blackened by contact with the clays, yet
only now the edges showing signs of verdigris. Countless
holes had been punched through the sheet, in no particular
pattern, yet each hole was perfectly uniform, perfectly
round, with no lip to indicate from which side it had been
punched.
    'Venitt,' he said, 'have we a map recording the precise
locations of these objects when they were originally found?'
    'Indeed, Master, with but a few exceptions. You
examined it a week past.'
    'I did? Very well. Set it out once more on the table in the
library, this afternoon.'
    Both men turned as the gate watcher appeared from the
narrow side passage along the left side of the house.
The woman halted ten paces from Rautos and bowed.
'Master, a message from Invigilator Karos Invictad.'
    'Very good,' Rautos replied distractedly. 'I will attend to
it in a moment. Does the messenger await a response?'
    'Yes, Master. He is in the courtyard.'
    'See that refreshments are provided.'
    The watcher bowed then departed.
    'Venitt, I believe you must prepare to undertake a
journey on my behalf.'
    'Master?'
    'The Invigilator at last perceives the magnitude of the
threat.'
    Venitt Sathad said nothing.
    'You must travel to Drene City,' Rautos said, his eyes
once more on the mysterious construct dominating the
lower terrace. 'The Consign requires a most specific report
of the preparations there. Alas, the Factor's own missives
are proving unsatisfactory. I require confidence in those
matters, if I am to apply fullest concentration to the threat
closer to hand.'
    Again, Venitt did not speak.
    Rautos looked out onto the river. Fisher boats gathered
in the bay opposite, two merchant traders drawing in
towards the main docks. One of them, bearing the flag of
the Esterrict family, looked damaged, possibly by fire.
Rautos brushed the dirt from his hands and turned about,
making his way back into the building, his servant falling
into step behind him.
    'I wonder, what lies beneath those stones?'
    'Master?'
    'Never mind, Venitt. I was but thinking out loud.'
    The Awl'dan camp had been attacked at dawn by two
troops of Atri-Preda Bivatt's Bluerose cavalry. Two hundred
skilled lancers riding into a maelstrom of panic, as figures
struggled out from the hide huts, as the Drene-bred wardogs,
arriving moments before the horse-soldiers, closed on
the pack of Awl herder and dray dogs, and in moments the
three breeds of beast were locked in a vicious battle.
    The Awl warriors were unprepared, and few had time to
even so much as find their weapons before the lancers burst
into their midst. In moments, the slaughter extended out