A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

Malazan .
    Timing. They'd taken it from him, as easily as they'd
taken his knife, his war-axe. Foreigners easing into the
harbour – not so many aboard as to cause much worry, or so
it had seemed. Besides, there had been enough trouble to
chew on right then. A sea filled with mountains of ice,
bearing down on the Isle, more ominous than any fleet or
army. They said they could take care of that – and he'd
been a drowning man going down for the last time.
    Would-be King of the Isle, crushed and smeared flat
under insensate ice. Face to face with that kind of truth had
been like dragon claws through his sail. After all he'd
done . . .
    Timing. He now wondered if these Malazans had brought
the ice with them. Sent it spinning down on the season's
wild current, just so they could arrive one step ahead and
offer to turn it away. He'd not even believed them, Brullyg
recalled, but desperation had spoken with its very own
voice. 'Do that and you'll be royal guests for as long as you like.' They'd smiled at that offer.
    I am a fool. And worse.
    And now, two miserable squads ruled over him and every
damned resident of this island, and there was not a thing he
could do about it. Except keep the truth from everyone else. And that's getting a whole lot harder with every day that passes.
    'Sweep's in the trough, pluck a knuckle and that about
does it,' said the other soldier.
    Possibly.
    'It skidded when you breathed – I saw it, you cheat!'
    'I ain't breathed.'
    'Oh right, you're a Hood-damned corpse, are you?'
    'No, I just ain't breathed when you said I did. Look, it's
in the trough, you deny it?'
    'Here, let me take a closer look. Ha, no it isn't!'
    'You just sighed and moved it, damn you!'
    'I didn't sigh.'
    'Right, and you're not losing neither, are ya?'
    'Just because I'm losing doesn't mean I sighed right then.
    And see, it's not in the trough.'
    'Hold on while I breathe—'
    'Then I'll sigh!'
    'Breathing is what winners do. Sighing is what losers do.
Therefore, I win.'
    'Sure, for you cheating is as natural as breathing, isn't it?'
    Brullyg slowly shifted his attention from the two at the
door, regarded the last soldier in the chamber. By the coven
she was a beauty. Such dark, magical skin, and those tilted
eyes just glowed with sweet invitation – damn him, all the
mysteries of the world were in those eyes. And that mouth!
Those lips! If he could just get rid of the other two, and
maybe steal away those wicked knives of hers, why then
he'd discover those mysteries the way she wanted him to.
    I'm King of the Isle. About to be. One more week, and if none of the dead Queen's bitch daughters show up before then, it all falls to me. King of the Isle. Almost. Close enough to use the title, sure. And what woman wouldn't set aside a miserable soldier's life for the soft, warm bed of a king's First Concubine? Sure, that is indeed a Letherii way, but as king I can make my own rules. And if the coven doesn't like it, well, there're the cliffs.
    One of the Malazans at the table said, 'Careful, Masan,
he's getting that look again.'
    The woman named Masan Gilani straightened catlike in
her chair, lifting her smooth, not-scrawny arms in an arching
stretch that transformed her large breasts into round globes,
tautening the worn fabric of her shirt. ''S long as he keeps
thinking with the wrong brain, Lobe, we're good and easy.'
She then settled back, straightening her perfect legs.
    'We should bring him another whore,' the one named
Lobe said as he gathered the knuckle bones into a small
leather bag.
    'No,' Masan Gilani said. 'Deadsmell barely revived the
last one.'
    But that's not the real reason, is it? Brullyg smiled. No, you want me for yourself. Besides, I'm not usually like that. I was taking out some . . . frustrations. That's all. His smile faded. They sure do use their hands a lot when talking. Gestures of all sorts. Strange people, these Malazans. He cleared his throat
and spoke Letherii in the slow way they seemed to need. 'I
could do with another walk. My legs want exercise.' A wink
towards Masan Gilani, who responded with a knowing
smile that lit him up low down, enough to make him shift
in the chair. 'My people need to see me, you understand? If
they start getting suspicious – well, if anybody knows what
a house arrest looks like, it is the citizens of Second Maiden
Fort.'
    In terribly accented Letherii, Lobe said, 'You get your ale
comes today, right? Best want to be waiting here for that.
We walk you tonight.'
    Like a