A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

into view, pausing
at the top of the gangway. The Errant's breath caught,
a sudden chill flowing through him, as if Hood himself had
arrived, his cold breath whispering across the back of the
god's neck.
    Abyss take me, all that waits within him. The foment none other here can see, could even guess at. Dear son of Gothos and that overgrown hag, the stain of Azath blood is about you like a cloud. This was more than a curse – all that afflicted
this fell warrior. Deliberate skeins were woven about
him, the threads of some elaborate, ancient, and deadly
ritual. And he knew their flavour. The Nameless Ones .
    Two soldiers from Triban Gnol's Palace Guard moved to
await the Jhag as he slowly walked down to the dock.
    The Errant's heart was thudding hard in his chest. They have delivered a champion, a challenger to the Emperor of a Thousand Deaths —
    The Jhag stepped onto solid ground.
    From the buildings beyond the harbour front, birds rose
suddenly, hundreds, then thousands, voicing a chorus of
shrieks, and beneath the Errant's feet the stones shifted
with a heavy, groaning sound. Something large collapsed
far into the city, beyond Quillas Canal, and distant screams
followed. The Errant stepped out from the wall and saw the
bloom of a dust cloud rising behind the caterwauling,
panicked pigeons, rooks, gulls and starlings.
    The subterranean groaning then ceased and a heavy
silence settled.
    Icarium's tusked mouth revealed the faintest of smiles, as
if pleased with the earth's welcome, and the Errant could
not be sure – at this distance – if that smile was truly as
childlike as it seemed, or if it was in fact ironic or, indeed,
bitter. He repressed the urge to draw closer seeking an
answer to that question, reminding himself that he did not
want Icarium's attention. Not now, not ever.
    Tomad Sengar, what your son will face . . .
    It was no wonder, he suddenly realized, that all that was
to come was obscured in a maelstrom of chaos. They have brought Icarium . . . into the heart of my power.
    Among the delegation and other Letherii nearby, it was
clear that no particular connection had been made
between Icarium's first touch on solid ground and the
minor earthquake rumbling through Letheras – yet such
stirrings were virtually unknown for this region, and while
the terror among the birds and the bawling of various beasts
of burden continued unabated, already the consternation of
those within the Errant's sight was diminishing. Foolish mortals, so quick to disregard unease.
    In the river beyond, the water slowly lost its shivering
agitation and the gulls further out began to settle once
again amidst yet more ships angling towards shore. Yet
somewhere in the city, a building had toppled, probably
some venerable ancient edifice, its foundations weakened
by groundwater, its mortar crumbled and supports rotted
through.
    There would have been casualties – Icarium's first, but most assuredly not his last.
    And he smiles.
    Still cursing, Taralack Veed turned to Yan Tovis. 'Unsettled
lands – Burn does not rest easy here.'
    The Atri-Preda shrugged to hide her queasy shock. 'To
the north of here, along the Reach Mountains, the ground
shakes often. The same can be said for the north side of the
ranges to the far south, the other side of the Draconean
Sea.'
    She saw the glimmer of bared teeth in the hood's
shadow. 'But not in Letheras, yes?'
    'I've not heard of such before, but that means little,' she
replied. 'This city is not my home. Not where I was born.
Not where I grew up.'
    Taralack Veed edged closer, facing away from Icarium,
who stood listening to the two palace guards as they
instructed him in what was to come. 'You fool,' he hissed at
her. 'Burn's flesh flinched, Twilight. Flinched – because of him .'
    She snorted.
    The Gral cocked his head, and she could feel his
contempt. 'What happens now?' he asked.
    'Now? Very little. There are secure residences, for you
and your champion. As for when the Emperor chooses to
face his challengers, that is up to him. Sometimes, he is
impatient and the clash occurs immediately. Other times,
he waits, often for weeks. But I will tell you what will begin
immediately.'
    'What is that?'
    'The burial urn for Icarium, and his place in the
cemetery where resides every challenger Rhulad has faced.'
    'Even that place will not survive,' Taralack Veed
muttered.
    The Gral, feeling sick to his stomach, walked over to
Icarium. He did not want to think of the destruction to
come. He had seen