A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

die,
A new bridge forged between you and me, good sir.'
    They turn then on their unbreathing mounts
To review the ranks arrayed in grainy mass on the plain
Onward to war from where and what they had once been
When all that was known is all that one knows again
And in this place the heather never blooms
The blood to be spilled never spills and never flows
Iskar Jarak, Bird That Steals, sits astride a black horse
And looks to command once more
    Sword and Shield
Fisher kel Tath
    Bliss on a sun-warmed sandy beach, on a remote island,
proves tedious to souls habituated to stimulation
and excitement. The smaller the island, the faster
the scene palls. So Gruntle concluded after completing his
thirtieth circle round the white rim of the shore, finding
himself fascinated by his own footprints, especially when a
new set arrived to track his path. Dulled and insensate as
he had become, it was a moment before it occurred to him
to halt and turn round, to see the one who now followed.
    Master Quell was sweating, gasping, fighting through
the soft sand as he probably fought through all of life, one
wheezing step at a time. He was sunburned on one side of
his body, face and neck, bared forearm, ankle and foot, the
result of falling asleep in an unwise position. That he had
been pursuing Gruntle for some time was clear in that his
footprints completed an entire circumambulation, leaving
Gruntle to wonder why the man had not simply called
out to capture his attention. Indeed, if Gruntle had not
noticed the new trail upon his own, they might well have
gone round all day, one pursuing, the other simply walking
at a pace the pursuer could not achieve.
    'A simple shout,' he said as the man drew closer.
    'I did not, uh, want, uh, to call undue attention, uh,
upon us.'
    'You do not sound well.'
    'I need to pee.'
    'Then—'
    'I can't. Well, I can, but intermittently. Generally when
I'm not, er, thinking about it.'
    'Ah. A healer could—'
    'Yes, yes, I know. Never mind that. Listen—'
    'Master Quell,' said Gruntle, 'this was not the way to
avoid undue attention – everyone else is sitting right there
in the shade of the carriage, and they have been watching
us for some time. Me, at least. Why, the Bole brothers wave
to me with every pass I make.'
    They both glanced over and, sure enough, Jula and
Amby waved.
    Master Quell rubbed at his bicolour red and pasty face.
'I need an escort.'
    'For what? To where?'
    'Back to the realm of the dead. No, not in the carriage.
Just you and me, Gruntle. I need to get a sense of what's
going on. We need to just, er, slip in. A quick look round,
then back out.'
    'And then?'
    Quell's brows lifted. 'Then? Well, we resume our journey,
of course.'
    'You want me to escort you into Hood's realm, as what,
your bodyguard?'
    The man bristled slightly. 'The shareholder agreement
you have made with the Guild includes discretionary tasks
as assigned by the Pilot.'
    Gruntle shrugged. 'I was but wondering, Master Quell,
what possible use I could be, given that the realm is awash
with rabid masses of miserable corpses.'
    'I said we'd go in quiet!'
'We could ask the passenger we picked up back there.'
    'What? Oh, is he still here?'
    'Under the palm trees.'
    'Under them? Only a dead man could be so stupid. Fine,
let's see what we can find out – but I still need to see some
things for myself.'
    The rest of the crew, along with Mappo, watched them
walk over to the twin palm trees, edging into their shade
to stand – nervously – before the gaunt, withered undead
who was piling up coconuts into pyramids like catapult
ammunition. Even as he worked, unmindful of his new
guests, another nut thumped heavily on the sand nearby,
making both Gruntle and Quell flinch.
    'You,' said Quell.
    The ghastly face peered up with shrunken eyes. 'Do you
like these? Patterns. I like patterns.'
    'Happy for you,' Quell muttered. 'How long have you
been dead?'
    'How long is a taproot?'
    'What? Well, show it to me and I'll guess.'
    'It's three times the length of the above ground stalk.
In the baraka shrub, anyway. Does the ratio hold for other
plants? Should we find out?'
    'No. Later, I mean. Look, you were marching with all the
rest in Hood's realm. Why? Where were you all going? Or
coming from? Was it Hood himself who summoned you?
Does he command all the dead now?'
    'Hood never commands.'
    'That's what I thought, but—'
    'Yet now he has.'
    Quell's eyes widened. 'He has?'
    'How wide is the sky? How deep is the ocean? I think
about these