A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

we can help each other.
Feather Witch, you wish to see this cursed empire collapse
– so do I. And when that occurs, know this: I intend to take
my Edur home. Back to our northlands. If the south is in
flames, that is of no concern to me – I leave the Letherii to
the Letherii, for no surer recipe for obliteration do any of us
require. I knew that from the very start. Lether cannot
sustain itself. Its appetite is an addiction, and that appetite
exceeds the resources it needs to survive. Your people had
already crossed that threshold, although they knew it not.
It was my dream, Feather Witch, to raise a wall of power
and so ensure the immunity of the Tiste Edur. Tell me, what
do you know of the impending war in the east?'
    'What war?'
    Hannan Mosag smiled. 'The unravelling begins. Let us
each grasp a thread, you at one end, me at the other.
Behind you, the slaves. Behind me, all the K'risnan.'
    'Does Trull Sengar live?'
    'It is Fear Sengar who seeks the means of destroying
Rhulad. And I mean for him to find it. Decide now, Feather
Witch. Are we in league?'
    She permitted herself a small smile. 'Hannan Mosag,
when the moment of obliteration comes . . . you had better
crawl fast.'
    'I don't want to see them.'
    With these words the Emperor twisted on his throne,
legs drawing up, and seemed to focus on the wall to his left.
The sword in his right hand, point resting on the dais, was
trembling.
    Standing in an alcove to one side, Nisall wanted to hurry
forward, reaching out for the beleaguered, frightened Edur.
    But Triban Gnol stood facing the throne. This audience
belonged to him and him alone; nor would the Chancellor
countenance any interruption from her. He clearly detested
her very presence, but on that detail Rhulad had insisted –
Nisall's only victory thus far.
    'Highness, I agree with you. Your father, alas, insisted I
convey to you his wishes. He would greet his most
cherished son. Further, he brings dire news—'
    'His favourite kind,' Rhulad muttered, eyes flickering as
if he was seeking an escape from the chamber. 'Cherished?
His word? No, I thought not. What he cherishes is my
power – he wants it for himself. Him and Binadas—'
    'Forgive my interruption, Highness,' Triban Gnol said,
bowing his head. 'There is news of Binadas.'
    The Emperor flinched. Licked dry lips. 'What has
happened?'
    'It is now known,' the Chancellor replied, 'that Binadas
was murdered. He was commanding a section of the fleet.
There was a battle with an unknown enemy. Terrible
sorcery was exchanged, and the remnants of both fleets
were plunged into the Nascent, there to complete their
battle in that flooded realm. Yet, this was all prelude. After
the remaining enemy ships fled, a demon came upon
Binadas's ship. Such was its ferocity that all the Edur were
slaughtered. Binadas himself was pinned to his chair by a
spear flung by that demon.'
    'How,' Rhulad croaked, 'how is all this known?'
    'Your father . . . dreamed. In that dream he found himself
a silent, ghostly witness, drawn there as if by the caprice
of a malevolent god.'
    'What of that demon? Does it still haunt the Nascent? I
shall hunt it down, I shall destroy it. Yes, there must be
vengeance. He was my brother. I sent him, my brother, sent
him. They all die by my word. All of them, and this is what
my father will tell me – oh how he hungers for that
moment, but he shall not have it! The demon, yes, the
demon who stalks my kin . . .' His fevered ramble trickled
away, and so ravaged was Rhulad's face that Nisall had to
look away, lest she cry out.
    'Highness,' the Chancellor said in a quiet voice.
    Nisall stiffened – this was what Triban Gnol was working
towards – all that had come before was for this precise
moment.
    'Highness, the demon has been delivered. It is here,
Emperor.'
    Rhulad seemed to shrink back into himself. He said
nothing, though his mouth worked.
    'A challenger,' Triban Gnol continued. 'Tarthenal blood,
yet purer, Hanradi Khalag claims, than any Tarthenal of
this continent. Tomad knew him for what he was the
moment the giant warrior took his first step onto Edur
bloodwood. Knew him, yet could not face him, for
Binadas's soul is in the Tarthenal's shadow – along with a
thousand other fell victims. They clamour, one and all, for
both freedom and vengeance. Highness, the truth must
now be clear to you. Your god has delivered him. To you, so
that you may slay him, so that you may avenge your
brother's death.'
    'Yes,' Rhulad whispered. 'He laughs –