A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

cascade of expressions, as they
ask themselves: who is it that would call me naive? Well,
comes the answer, clearly a person possessing certainty,
with all the arrogance and pretension that position
entails; a confidence, then, that permits the offhand judgement,
the derisive dismissal uttered from a most lofty
height. And from all this, into your victim's eyes will come
the light of recognition – in you he faces his enemy, his
truest enemy. And he will know fear. Indeed, terror.'
    'You invite the question, then, Invigilator . . .'
    Karos Invictad smiled. 'Do I possess certainty? Or am I in
fact plagued by questions, doubts, do I flounder in the wild
currents of complexity?' He was silent for a moment, then
he said, 'I hold to but one certainty. Power shapes the face
of the world. In itself, it is neither benign nor malicious, it
is simply the tool by which its wielder reshapes all that is
around him or herself, reshapes it to suit his or her own . . .
comforts. Of course, to express power is to enact tyranny,
which can be most subtle and soft, or cruel and hard.
Implicit in power – political, familial, as you like – is the
threat of coercion. Against all who choose to resist. And
know this: if coercion is available, it will be used.' He
gestured. 'Listen to that man. He does my work for me.
Down in the dungeons, his cellmates hear his ravings, and
some among them join in chorus – the guards take note of
who, and that is a list of names I peruse daily, for they are
the ones I can win over. The ones who say nothing, or turn
away, now that is the list of those who must die.'
    'So,' said Tanal, 'we let him scream.'
    'Yes. The irony is, he truly is naive, although not of
course as you originally meant. It is his very certainty that
reveals his blithe ignorance. It is a further irony that both
extremes of the political spectrum reveal a convergence of
the means and methods and indeed the very attitudes
of the believers – their ferocity against naysayers, the blood
they willingly spill for their cause, defending their version
of reality. The hatred they reveal for those who voice
doubts. Scepticism disguises contempt, after all, and to be
held in contempt by one who holds to nothing is to feel the
deepest, most cutting wound. And so we who hold to
certainty, Yathvanar, soon find it our mission to root out
and annihilate the questioners. And my, the pleasure we
derive from that . . .'
    Tanal Yathvanar said nothing, inundated with a storm
of suspicions, none of which he could isolate, chase
down.
    Karos Invictad said, 'You were so quick to judge, weren't
you? Ah, you revealed so much with that contemptuous
utterance. And I admit to being amused at my own instinctive
response to your words. Naive . Errant take me, I
wanted to rip your head from your body, like decapitating a
swamp-fly. I wanted to show you true contempt. Mine. For
you and your kind. I wanted to take that dismissive expression
on your face and push it through an offal grinder. You think
you have all the answers? You must, given the ease of your
voiced judgement. Well, you pathetic little creature, one day
uncertainty will come to your door, will clamber down your
throat, and it will be a race to see which arrives first, humility
or death. Either way, I will spare you a moment's compassion,
which is what sets you and me apart, isn't it? A package
arrived today, yes?'
    Tanal blinked. See how we all possess a bloodlust . Then he
nodded. 'Yes, Invigilator. A new puzzle for you.'
    'Excellent. From whom?'
    'Anonymous.'
    'Most curious. Is that part of the mystery, or fear of
ridicule when I solve it after a mere moment's thought?
Well, how can you possibly answer that question? Where is
it now?'
    'It should have been delivered to your office, sir.'
    'Good. Permit the man below to scream for the rest of
the afternoon, then have him sent below again.'
    Tanal bowed as Karos left the balcony. He waited for a
hundred heartbeats, then he too departed.
    A short time later he descended to the lowest level of the
ancient dungeons, down spiralling stone steps to corridors
and cells that had not seen regular use in centuries. The
recent floods had inundated both this level and the one
above it, although the waters had since drained, leaving
behind thick silts and the stench of stagnant, filthy water.
Carrying a lantern, Tanal Yathvanar made his way down a
sloping channel until he came to what had once been the
primary inquisition chamber. Arcane,