A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

military's own
lexicon, which does not entirely amend the residue of your
low birth, yet is of sufficient mediation to leave most of
your comrades uncertain of your familial station.' The eyes,
a soft brown, were brimming with silent mirth with each
statement. 'This of course does not refer to the temporary
taint that has come from long proximity among sailors, as
well as the Tiste Edur. Which, you may be relieved to hear,
is fast diminishing.'
    Yan Tovis glanced at the guard standing behind the
monk. A gesture sent her away.
    'If that was your idea of a joke,' she said to the Cabalhii
after the woman had left, 'then even the paint does not
help.'
    The eyes flashed. 'I assure you, no humour was intended.
Now, I am told your own healers have had no success. Is
this correct?'
    'Yes.'
    'And the Tiste Edur?'
    'They are . . . uninterested in Varat Taun's fate.'
    A nod, then the monk, drawing his loose silks closer,
walked noiselessly towards the figure in the far corner.
    Varat Taun squealed and began clawing at the walls.
    The monk halted, cocking his head, then turned about
and approached Yan Tovis. 'Do you wish to hear my
assessment?'
    'Go on.'
    'He is mad.'
    She stared down into those dancing eyes, and felt a
sudden desire to throttle this Cabalhii. 'Is that all?' Her
question came out in a rasping tone, rough with threat.
    'All? It is considerable. Madness. Myriad causes, some
the result of physical damage to the brain, others due to
dysfunctioning organs which can be ascribed to traits of
parentage – an inherited flaw, as it were. Other sources
include an imbalance of the Ten Thousand Secretions of
the flesh, a tainting of select fluids, the fever kiss
of delusion. Such imbalances can be the result of aforementioned
damage or dysfunction.'
    'Can you heal him?'
    The monk blinked. 'Is it necessary?'
    'Well, that is why I sent for you – excuse me, but what is
your name?'
    'My name was discarded upon attaining my present rank
within the Unified Sects of Cabal.'
    'I see, and what rank is that?'
    'Senior Assessor.'
    'Assessing what?'
    The expression did not change. 'All matters requiring
assessment. Is more explanation required?'
    Yan Tovis scowled. 'I'm not sure,' she muttered. 'I think
we are wasting our time.'
    Another wild cavort in the monk's eyes. 'The appearance
of a foreign fleet among our islands required
assessment. The empire that despatched it required
assessment. The demands of this Emperor require assessment.
And now, as we see, the condition of this young
soldier requires assessment. So I have assessed it.'
    'So where, precisely, does your talent for healing come
in?'
    'Healing must needs precede assessing success or failure
of the treatment.'
    'What treatment?'
    'These things follow a progression of requirements, each
of which must be fully met before one is able to proceed to
the next. Thus. I have assessed this soldier's present condition.
He is mad. I then, for your benefit, described the
various conditions of madness and their possible causes.
Thereafter we negotiated the issue of personal nomenclature
– an aside with little relevance, as it turns out – and
now I am ready to resume the task at hand.'
    'Forgive my interruption, then.'
    'There is no need. Now, to continue. This soldier has
suffered a trauma sufficient to disrupt the normal balance of
the Ten Thousand Secretions. Various organs within his
brain are now trapped in a cycle of dysfunction beyond any
measures of self-repair. The trauma has left a residue in the
form of an infection of chaos – it is, I might add, never wise
to sip the deadly waters between the warrens. Furthermore,
this chaos is tainted with the presence of a false god.'
    'A false god – what is false about it?'
    'I am a monk of the Unified Sects of Cabal, and it now
seems necessary that I explain the nature of my religion.
Among the people of Cabal there are three thousand and
twelve sects. These sects are devoted, one and all, to the
One God. In the past, terrible civil wars plagued the islands
of Cabal, as each sect fought for domination of both secular
and spiritual matters. Not until the Grand Synod of New Year
One was peace secured and formalized for every generation to
come. Hence, the Unified Sects. The solution to the endless
conflicts was, it turned out, brilliantly simple. "Belief in the
One God occludes all other concerns." '
    'How could there be so many sects and only one god?'
    'Ah. Well, you must understand. The One God writes
nothing down. The One