A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

further as the man who had struck him now
grasped him by the throat and dragged him to his feet. 'He
won't hear nothing, Venaz. You think we give a fuck about
Vidikas having a fuckin' duel? Killin' some poor bastard for
what? Our entertainment?'
    'He's turnin' blue, Haid. Better loosen yer grip some.'
    Venaz gasped an agonizing lungful of air.
    'Get it right, lad,' Haid went on, 'Vidikas owns us. We're
pieces of meat to him, right? So he puts out a call for one
of us and for what? Why, to chew it up, that poor piece of
meat. And what, you think that's a fuckin' good idea? Get
outa my sight, Venaz, but you can count on me rememberin'
this.'
    The pack was huddled together now, white-faced, but
among some of them there was something rather more
calculating. Was this the moment to usurp Venaz?
The three men went back to working on the axle. Venaz,
his colour returning to normal, dusted himself off and then
set out in a stiff-legged march towards the tunnel mouth.
His pack fell in behind him.
    As they plunged into the cool gloom Venaz wheeled.
'That was Haid and Favo and Dule, right? Remember them
names. They're on my list now, all three of them. They're
on my list.'
    Faces nodded.
    And those who had been weighing their chances each
realized that the moment had passed. They'd been too
slow. Venaz had a way of recovering, and fast, scary fast.
He was, they reminded themselves yet again, going places,
without a doubt.
    Harllo slid along the vein, feeling with his bare stomach
the purity of the black silver and, yes, it was silver and
where had it come from when all they'd been working for
so long was copper up on the skins and iron down deep?
But it felt so beautiful, this silver. Better than gold, better
than anything.
    Wait till he told Bainisk and Bainisk told the foreman!
They'd be heroes. They might even get extra portions at
supper, or a cup of watered wine!
    The chute was narrow, so small they'd need moles for
weeks before it got worked out big enough to take the pickers,
so there was a good chance that Harllo would be seeing – and
feeling – a lot more of this silver, every day, maybe.
    And all that trouble from before would go away, just like
that – he knew it would—
    'Harllo!'
    The voice whispered up from somewhere behind his feet,
reminding him that he was still head down and that could
be dangerous. He might pass out and not even know it. 'I'm
all right, Bainisk! I found—'
    'Harllo! Get back here right now!'
    A shiver ran through Harllo. Bainisk's voice didn't
sound right. It sounded . . . scared.
    But that wouldn't last, would it? Not with the silver—
    'Hurry!'
    Moving backwards was never easy. He pushed with his
hands, squirmed and pressed his toes against the hard
stone and then extended his heels. There were leather
pads tied to his feet for this purpose, but it still hurt. Like
a caterpillar, gathering up and then pushing, bit by bit,
working his way back up the chute.
    All at once hands grasped his ankles and he was being
roughly dragged.
    Harllo cried out as his chin struck an obstruction and
when he lifted his head up the top crunched on rock, scraping
away skin and hair. 'Bainisk! What—'
    He fell free of the chute, thumping down. The hands
released his ankles and now grasped his upper arms, lifting
him to his feet.
    'Bainisk—'
    'Shhh! Word's come down – someone came to find you
– from the city.'
    'What?'
    'Vidikas killed him – in a duel – and now he's called for
you to be brought to him. It's bad, Harllo. I think he's going
to kill you!'
    But this was too much to hear, too much all at once
– someone had come – who? Gruntle! And Vidikas had
. . . had killed him. No. He couldn't have – he didn't— 'Who
was he?' he asked.
    'I don't know. Listen, we're going to escape, you and me,
Harllo – do you understand?'
    'But how can we—'
    'We're going deeper in, to the Settle—'
    'But that's not safe—'
    'There are huge cracks on that side – some of them, they
got to go right up and out, lakeside. We get there, and then
along the shoreline, all the way back to the city!'
    They had been hissing back and forth, and now they
heard shouts echoing down from the main passage.
    'Venaz – that figures, doesn't it? Come on, Harllo, we got
to go now !'
    They set out, each with a lantern, Bainisk taking a coil
of rope as well, down through the fresh workings – there
was no one there yet, as first the air had been bad and then
there'd been flooding and only the shift before the last