A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

failed at
his task, since Felisin was taken from us. Three: Cutter
also has a broken heart, and no matter how much fun
we eventually had, him and me, it's clear that I can't help
him with that. And finally, four: he's embarrassed by me
because he probably thinks I'm too fat and he thinks you'll
all be thinking the same thing, too.'
    All three men facing her fervently shook their heads at
that, while Cutter sat head in hands.
    Sulty arrived to slam down a thick-based dusty clay
bottle and two more goblets. 'Three councils, Kruppe!'
Kruppe set three silver coins into her hand without a
whimper.
    After a long moment, the historian sighed, reached out
and uncorked the bottle. He sniffed the mouth. Brows
lifted. 'Empty the rubbish in your cups, please.'
    They did and Duiker poured.
    'Cutter,' said Murillio.
    'What?'
    'You were disembowelled? Gods below, man!'
'Kruppe struggles to taste the wonder of this wondrous
vintage, so gasted of flabber is he at said horrendous tale.
The world is most cruel, yet salvation unfolds at the last,
blessed be all the gods, goddesses, spirits, marsupials
and amphibians and indeed all the rest. Made drunk by
punches is poor Kruppe, rocked this way, knocked that,
buffeted askew in every direction at once very nearly unto
exploding. Beloved Scillara, you tell a most awkward tale,
and tell it badly. Despite this, see us here, each one reeling
at said poorly told revelations!'
    'Perhaps excessive in my efforts at summarizing, I'll grant
you,' Scillara allowed. 'But I thought: best to push through
the uncomfortable stage, and now here we are, relaxed and
eager to quaff down this fine wine. I have decided I like the
Phoenix Inn.'
    Duiker rose. 'My task complete, I shall—'
    'Sit back down, old man,' she said. 'If I have to slap the
life back into you I will. Less painful, one hopes, partaking
of our company this day, don't you think?'
    The historian slowly sat back down.
    Kruppe gusted out a sigh. 'Pity us men at this table, we
are outnumbered!'
    'I take it Cutter's told nothing,' Scillara observed.
'Not even how we almost drowned when the moon
broke up and fell out of the sky. Saved by a dragon.'
    'I will indeed stay,' said Duiker, 'provided you back up
and tell us all this properly, Scillara.'
    'As you like.'
    'From the moment you first met Heboric.'
    'This will take all night,' she said. 'And I'm hungry.'
    'Murillio will be delighted to purchase our suppers,'
declared Kruppe.
    'For once you are right,' Murillio said.
    'I don't think you're too fat,' said Cutter. 'I don't think
anything like that, Scillara.' Too good, yes. And why don't
you see how Barathol looks at you? As for me, well, Apsalar
was smart enough to get away and I won't begrudge her that.
In fact, I doubt there's a woman low enough for me anywhere
in the world.
    Was that too self-pitying? No, just realistic, he decided.
    Oh, and by the way, everyone, that dragon is wearing silks
and biding her time aboard her damned ship, right there in
Darujhistan harbour . . . Oh, and did I mention that the city
is in imminent danger?
    The bottle of wine was done and Sulty was sent off for
another one. Meese was quickly appeased by the orders for
supper and the knowledge that, eventually, the swill she
stocked would be broached and consumed to excess.
    As Scillara told her tale.
    While Cutter's mind, sodden with alcohol, wandered
through all those thoughts that were anything but self-pitying. Not a woman anywhere . . .
    Lady Challice Vidikas sat at one end of the table, Shardan
Lim on her left, Hanut Orr to her right. For this night
she wore emerald green silks, the short coat tight-fitting,
collarless to expose her unadorned, powdered throat and
low-cut to reveal her scented breasts. Her hair was tied
up, speared through with silver pins. Rouge blushed her
cheeks. Kohl thickened her lashes. Earrings depended from
her ears in tumbling, glittering array, the green of emerald
and the blue of sapphire. The coat's short sleeves revealed
her bared arms, the skin soft, smooth, slightly plump,
unstained by the sun. Leggings of brushed kid leather
covered her lower limbs and on her feet was the latest style
of sandals, the one with a high peg-like heel.
    Amber wine glimmered in crystal goblets. Candlelight
painted soft and gold every detail in a pool that faded
into gloom beyond the three at the table, so that the
servants moved in shadows, appearing only to clear dishes,
rearrange settings, and deliver yet more food.
    She but picked at her meal,