A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

came.
    Mark him well. These are the thoughts of courage, unquestioning
and uncompromising, and this is how heroes
come to be. Small ones. Big ones. All kinds. When drama
arrives, they are there. Look about. See for yourself.
    He seemed such an innocuous man, so aptly named, and
there was nothing in this modest office that might betray
Humble Measure's ambitions, nor his bloodthirsty eagerness
in making use of Seba Krafar and his Guild of Assassins.
    Harmless, then, and yet Seba found himself sweating
beneath his nondescript clothes. True, he disliked
appearing in public, particularly in the light of day, but
that unease barely registered when in the presence of the
Master Ironmonger.
    It's simple. I don't like the man. And is that surprising?
Despite the fact that he's provided the biggest contract I've
seen, at least as head of the Guild. Probably the Malazan offer
Vorcan took on was bigger, but only because achieving it was
impossible, even for that uncanny bitch.
    Seba's dislike was perhaps suspect, even to his own mind,
since it was caught up in the grisly disaster of Humble Measure's
contract. Hard to separate this man from the scores of
assassins butchered in the effort (still unsuccessful) to kill
those damned Malazans. And this particular subject was
one that would not quite depart, despite Humble Measure's
casual, dismissive wave of one soft hand.
    'The failing is of course temporary,' Seba Krafar said.
'Hadn't we best complete it, to our mutual satisfaction,
before taking on this new contract of yours?'
    'I have reconsidered the K'rul Temple issue, at least
for the moment,' said Humble Measure. 'Do not fear, I
am happy to add to the original deposit commensurate
with the removal of two of the subjects, and should the
others each fall in turn, you will of course be immediately
rewarded. As the central focus, however, I would be pleased
if you concentrated on the new one.'
    Seba Krafar was never able to meet anyone's gaze for very
long. He knew that most would see that as a weakness, or
as proof that Seba could not be trusted, but he always made
a point of ensuring that what he had to say was never
evasive. This blunt honesty, combined with the shying
eyes, clearly unbalanced people, and that was fine with
Seba. Now, if only it worked on this man. 'This new one,'
he ventured, 'is political.'
    'Your specialty, I gather,' said Humble Measure.
    'Yes, but one that grows increasingly problematic. The
noble class has learned to protect itself. Assassinations are
not as easy as they once were.'
    The Ironmonger's brows lifted. 'Are you asking for more
money?'
    'Actually, no. It's this: the Guild is wounded. I've had
to promote a dozen snipes months ahead of their time.
They're not ready – oh, they can kill as efficiently as anyone,
but most of them are little more than ambitious thugs.
Normally, I would cull them, ruthlessly, but at the moment
I can't afford to.'
    'This will require, I assume, certain modifications to
your normal tactics.'
    'It already has. Fifteen of my dead from K'rul's Bar were
my latest promotions. That's left the rest of them rattled.
An assassin without confidence is next to useless.'
    Humble Measure nodded. 'Plan well and execute with
precision, Master Krafar, and that confidence will return.'
    'Even that won't be enough, unless we succeed.'
    'Agreed.'
    Seba was silent for a moment, still sweating, still uneasy.
'Before I accept this latest contract,' he said, 'I should offer
you a way out. There are other, less bloody ways of getting
elected to the Council. It seems money is not a problem,
and given that—' He stopped when the man lifted a
hand.
    Suddenly, there was something new in Humble
Measure's eyes, something Seba had not seen before, and it
left him chilled. 'If it was my desire to buy my way on to the
Council, Master Krafar, I would not have summoned you
here. That should be obvious.'
    'Yes, I suppose—'
    'But I have summoned you, yes? Therefore, it is reasonable
to assume my desires are rather more complicated than
simply gaining a seat on the Council.'
    'You want this particular councillor dead.'
    Humble Measure acknowledged this with a brief closing
of his eyes that somehow conveyed a nod without his
having to move his head. 'We are not negotiating my
reasons, since they are none of your business and have
no relevance to the task itself. Now, you will assault this
particular estate, and you will kill the councillor and
everyone else, down to the scullery maid and the