A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

son.'
    'Left in the care of others – is she so cold of heart, then?
Do you rise to extraordinary challenge, mayhap? The best
kind, of course, ever the best kind.'
    'There's a story there,' Murillio said. 'Not all women
make good mothers, true enough. But she doesn't seem that
kind. I mean, well, she struck me as someone with fierce
loyalties. Maybe. Oh, I don't know. It'd be nice to find the
runt, that's all.'
    'We understand, Murillio,' Cutter said.
    'Rely upon Kruppe, dearest friend. All truths will yield
themselves in the fullness of revelatory revelation, anon.
But wait, fortuitous reunion of another sort beckons,' and
he leaned forward, small eyes fixing upon Cutter. Eyebrows
waggled.
    'You're scaring me—'
    'Terror shall burgeon imminently for poor Cutter.'
    'What are you—'
    A hand settled on his shoulder, soft, plump.
    Cutter closed his eyes and said, 'I've got to stop sitting
with my back to the door.'
    Murillio rose, suddenly formal as he bowed to someone
standing behind Cutter. 'Historian. We have met once
or—'
    'I recall,' the man replied, moving round into Cutter's
sight as he collected two chairs from a nearby table. Thank
the gods, not his hand.
    'Please do thank Mallet again—'
    'I will,' the historian replied. 'In the meantime, I'm
not the one who should be doing the introductions.'
Those weary, ancient eyes fixed on Cutter. 'You're Cutter,
yes?'
    He twisted to look at the woman standing behind his
chair. Seated as he was, his eyes were level with a pair of
breasts covered in tight-fitting linen. And he knew them
well. It was a struggle to lift his gaze higher. 'Scillara.'
    'You call that an introduction?' she asked, dragging up
the other chair the historian had pulled close. She wedged
herself in on Cutter's right and sat down. 'I've never seen
bones picked so clean on a plate before,' she observed, her
eyes on the leavings of lunch.
    Kruppe wheezed upright. He began waving his hands.
'Kruppe hastens with proper welcome to this grand
company to already beloved Scillara of the Knowing
Eyes and other assorted accoutrements of charm Kruppe
would dearly wish to knowingly eye, if not for the dastardly
demands of decorum. Welcome, cries Kruppe, even as he
slumps back – oof! – exhausted by his enthusiasm and
dimpled with desire.'
    Murillio bowed to Scillara. 'I won't be as crass as dimpled
Kruppe. I am Murillio, an old friend of Cro— Cutter's.'
    She began repacking her pipe with rustleaf. 'Cutter
spoke often of your charm, Murillio, when it comes to
women,' and she paused to smile.
    Murillio sat back down a tad hard and Cutter saw, wryly
amused, that he looked more awake now than he had in
days, perhaps since the stabbing.
    Kruppe was fanning his flushed face. Then he raised
a hand. 'Sulty! Sweet creature, the finest wine in the
house! No, wait! Go down the street to the Peacock
and buy us a bottle of their finest wine! The finest wine
in their house, yes! Is something wrong, Meese? Kruppe
meant no insult, honest! Sulty, be on with you, child!
Meese, why—'
    'No more,' cut in Murillio, 'unless you want to pile on
ever more insults to our faithful proprietor, until she comes
over here and kills you outright.'
    'Dire misunderstanding! Enthusiasm and—'
'Dimples, we know.'
    Cutter spoke up, 'Scillara was a camp follower in
Sha'ik's rebel city in Raraku. Er, not a follower like that,
I mean—'
'Yes I was,' she said. 'Just that.' She struck sparks to
the bowl. 'Plaything to soldiers. In particular, Malazans.
Renegades from Korbolo Dom's turncoat army. His
Dogslayers. I was then plucked from what would have been
a short, benumbed existence by a Malazan priest with no
hands, who dragged me across half of Seven Cities, along
with Cutter here.' She sent a stream of smoke upward, then
continued. 'Just inland of the Otataral Sea, we got jumped.
The priest was cut down. Cutter got disembowelled and I
had a baby – no real connection between the two, by the
way, apart from bad timing. Some villagers found us and
saved us – the son of Osserc showed up for that – and that's
how we collected Barathol Mekhar and Chaur, making up
for the two we'd lost in the ambush.
    'Now, normally I don't tell long-winded tales like this one,
but what I gave you was necessary for you to understand a
few important things. One: I left the baby in the village,
with no regrets. Two: Cutter, who was with us because The
Rope thought Felisin Younger needed protecting, nearly
died and is now living with a feeling of having