A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

sure their ghosts concur,' Traveller said.
    They cantered closer.
    The Toblakai looked no different from the last time she
had seen him – there on the sands of the arena in Letheras.
As sure, as solid, as undeniable as ever. 'I shall kill him . . . once.' And so he did. Defying . . . everything. Oh, he was
looking at her now, and at Havok, with the air of a master
summoning his favourite hunting dog.
    And suddenly she was furious. 'This wasn't obligation!'
she snapped, savagely reining in directly in front of him.
'You abandoned us – there in that damned foreign city!
"Do this when the time is right", and so I did! Where the
Hood did you go? And—'
    And then she yelped, as the huge warrior swept her off the
saddle with one massive arm, and closed her in a suffocating
embrace, and the bastard was laughing and even Traveller
– curse the fool – was grinning, although to be sure it was a
hard grin, mindful as he clearly was of the half-dozen bodies
lying amidst blood and entrails in the grasses.
    'Witch!'
    'Set me down!'
    'I am amazed,' he bellowed, 'that Havok suffered you all
this way!'
    'Down!'
    So he dropped her. Jarring her knees, sending her down
with a thump on her backside, every bone rattled. She
glared up at him.
    But Karsa Orlong had already turned away and was eyeing
Traveller, who remained on his horse. 'You – are you
her husband then? She must have had one somewhere – no
other reason for her forever refusing me. Very well, we shall
fight for her, you and me—'
    'Be quiet, Karsa! He's not my husband and no one's
fighting for me. Because I belong to no one but me! Do you
understand? Will you ever understand?'
    'Samar Dev has spoken,' said Traveller. 'We met not
long ago, both journeying on this plain. We chose to ride
as companions. I am from Dal Hon, on the continent of
Quon Tali—'
    Karsa grunted. 'Malazan.'
    An answering nod. 'I am called Traveller.'
    'You hide your name.'
    'What I hide merely begins with my name, Karsa Orlong.'
    The Toblakai's eyes thinned at that.
    'You bear the tattoos,' Traveller went on, 'of an escaped
slave of Seven Cities. Or, rather, a recaptured one. Clearly,
the chains did not hold you for long.'
    Samar Dev had picked herself up and was now brushing
the dust from her clothes. 'Are these Skathandi?' she asked,
gesturing at the bodies. 'Karsa?'
    The giant turned away from his study of the Malazan.
'Idiots,' he said. 'Seeking vengeance for the dead king – as
if I killed him.'
    'Did you?'
    'No.'
    'Well,' she said, 'at least now I will have a horse of my
own.'
    Karsa walked over to Havok and settled a hand on his
neck. The beast's nostrils flared and the lips peeled back to
reveal the overlong fangs. Karsa laughed. 'Yes, old friend, I
smell of death. When was it never thus?' And he laughed
again.
    'Hood take you, Karsa Orlong – what happened?'
    He frowned at her. 'What do you mean, witch?'
    'You killed the Emperor.'
    'I said I would, and so I did.' He paused, and then said,
'And now this Malazan speaks as if he would make me a
slave once more.'
    'Not at all,' said Traveller. 'It just seems as if you have
lived an eventful life, Toblakai. I only regret that I will
probably never hear your tale, for I gather that you are not
the talkative type.'
    Karsa Orlong bared his teeth, and then swung up into
the saddle. 'I am riding north,' he said.
    'As am I,' replied Traveller.
    Samar Dev collected both horses and tied a long lead
to the one she decided she would not ride, then climbed
into the saddle of the other – a russet gelding with a broad
back and disinterested eyes. 'I think I want to go home,' she
pronounced. 'Meaning I need to find a port, presumably on
the western coast of this continent.'
    Traveller said, 'I ride to Darujhistan. Ships ply the lake
and the river that flows to the coast you seek. I would
welcome the company, Samar Dev.'
    'Darujhistan,' said Karsa Orlong. 'I have heard of that
city. Defied the Malazan Empire and so still free. I will see
it for myself.'
    'Fine then,' Samar Dev snapped. 'Let's ride on, to the
next pile of corpses – and with you for company, Karsa
Orlong, that shouldn't be long – and then we'll ride to the
next one and so on, right across this entire continent. To
Darujhistan! Wherever in Hood's name that is.'
    'I will see it,' Karsa said again. 'But I will not stay long.'
And he looked at her with suddenly fierce eyes. 'I am
returning home, witch.'
    'To forge your army,' she said, nodding, sudden nerves
tingling in her