A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

thinking the same of you, Tiste
Andii.'
    'Indeed.'
    'Why would I lie?'
    'Why wouldn't you?'
    'All right,' Udinaas said. 'You have a point.'
    'So you will not answer my question.'
    'You first.'
    'I do not disguise what drives me.'
    'Revenge? Well, fine enough, I suppose, as a motivation
– at least for a while and maybe a while is all you're really
interested in. But let's be honest here, Silchas Ruin: as the
sole meaning for existing, it's a paltry, pathetic cause.'
    'Whereas you claim to exist to torment Fear Sengar.'
    'Oh, he manages that all on his own.' Udinaas shrugged.
'The problem with questions like that is, we rarely find
meaning to what we do until well after we've done it. At
that point we come up with not one but thousands –
reasons, excuses, justifications, heartfelt defences. Meaning?
Really, Silchas Ruin, ask me something interesting.'
    'Very well. I am contemplating challenging our pursuers
– no more of this unnecessary subterfuge. It offends my
nature, truth be told.'
    At the tunnel mouth, Fear turned to regard the Tiste
Andii. 'You will kick awake a hornet's nest, Silchas Ruin.
Worse, if this fallen god is indeed behind Rhulad's power,
you might find yourself suffering a fate far more dire than
millennia buried in the ground.'
    'Fear's turning into an Elder before our eyes,' Udinaas
said. 'Jumping at shadows. You want to take on Rhulad and
Hannan Mosag and his K'risnan, Silchas Ruin, you have
my blessing. Grab the Errant by the throat and tear this
empire to pieces. Turn it all into ash and dust. Level the
whole damned continent, Tiste Andii – we'll just stay here
in this cave. Come collect us when you're finished.'
    Fear bared his teeth at Udinaas. 'Why would he bother
sparing us?'
    'I don't know,' the ex-slave replied, raising an eyebrow.
'Pity?'
    Kettle spoke from the side chamber's arched doorway.
'Why don't any of you like each other? I like all of you.
Even Wither.'
    'It's all right,' Udinaas said, 'we're all just tortured by who
we are, Kettle.'
    No-one said much after that.
    * * *
    Seren Pedac reached the edge of the forest, keeping low to
remain level with the stunted trees. The air was thin and
cold at this altitude. The stars overhead were bright
and sharp, the dust-shrouded crescent moon still low on
the horizon to the north. Around her was whispered
motion through the clumps of dead leaves and lichen – a
kind of scaled mouse ruled the forest floor at night,
a species she had never seen before. They seemed unusually
fearless, so much so that more than one had scampered
across her boots. No predators, presumably. Even so, their
behaviour was odd.
    Before her stretched a sloped clearing, sixty or more
paces, ending at a rutted track. Beyond it was a level stretch
of sharp, jagged stones, loose enough to be treacherous.
The fort squatting in the midst of this moat of rubble was
stone-walled, thick at the base and tapering sharply to
twice the height of a man. The corner bastions were
massive, squared and flat-topped. On those platforms
were swivel-mounted ballestae. Seren could make out
huddled figures positioned around the nearest one, while
other soldiers were visible, shoulders and heads, walking
the raised platform on the other side of the walls.
    As she studied the fortification, she heard the soft clunk
of armour and weapons to her left. She shrank back as a
patrol appeared on the rutted track. Motionless, breath
held, she watched them amble past.
    After another twenty heartbeats, she turned about and
made her way back through the stunted forest. She almost
missed the entrance to the cave mouth, a mere slit of black
behind high ferns beneath a craggy overhang of tilted,
layered granite. Pushing through, she stumbled into Fear
Sengar.
    'Sorry,' he whispered. 'We were beginning to worry, or, at
least,' he added, 'I was.'
    She gestured him back into the cave.
    'Good news,' she said once they were inside. 'We're
behind the garrison – the pass ahead should be virtually
unguarded—'
    'There are K'risnan wards up the trail,' Silchas Ruin cut
in. 'Tell me of this garrison, Acquitor.'
    Seren closed her eyes. Wards? Errant take us, what game is Hannan Mosag playing here? 'I could smell horses from the
fort. Once we trip those wards they'll be after us, and we
can't outrun mounted soldiers.'
    'The garrison,' Silchas said.
    She shrugged. 'The fort looks impregnable. I'd guess
there's anywhere between a hundred and two hundred
soldiers there. And with that many there's bound to