A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 4

Blend. It's in the cellar.'
    'Oh.'
    No wonder he looked so wretched.
    'Plan on cutting off its head?' Samar Dev asked.
    Karsa Orlong was standing over the Hound he had
killed. At her question he grunted. 'I could use a kitchen
knife to finish the job. See how my blade cut through that
spine? Like chopping down a tree.'
    She found she was trembling, decided it was exhaustion.
'They're your daughters, aren't they?'
    Karsa glanced over at the two Toblakai girls, who
stood watching, silent, expectant. 'I raped a mother and
a daughter.'
    'Ah, well, isn't that nice.'
    'It was my right.'
    'Funny, that.'
    'What?'
    'That idea of "rights". The way that claiming a right so
often results in someone else losing theirs. At which point
it all comes down to who's holding the biggest sword.'
    'I won that right when I killed their men. This was tribal
war, witch.' He paused. 'And I was young.'
    'Gods below, you're actually telling me you have
regrets?'
    The Toblakai turned away from the dead Hound and
faced his daughters. 'I have many,' he answered. 'But, not
these two.'
    'And if they feel differently about it, Karsa?'
    'Why should they? I gave them life.'
    'I think,' Samar Dev said, 'that I shall never understand
you.' She eyed the girls. 'Do they know what we're saying?
Of course not, they couldn't have learned any Seven Cities
language. I've not seen you speak to them, Karsa. What are
you waiting for?'
    'I am waiting,' he replied, 'for when I can think of something
to say.'
    At that moment another woman emerged from an alley
mouth and, gaze fixed on Karsa Orlong, walked over.
'Toblakai,' she said, 'I have a message to deliver to you.' She
was speaking Malazan.
    'I don't know you,' Karsa said to her in the same language.
    'The feeling's mutual,' she snapped, 'but let's not let that
get in the way.' She hesitated. 'Do you want this message
private, or maybe I should just shout it so everybody can
hear.'
    Karsa shot Samar Dev an amused look. 'Did I ever tell
you, witch, that I liked Malazans?'
    'Yes,' she replied, sighing.
    'You need not shout, Malazan. Nor will we hide in some
corner. So, tell me this mysterious message, but first, tell
me who it is from.'
    'All right. It's from Hood, I think.'
    Samar Dev snorted. 'Let me guess. "Keep up the good
work, yours truly".'
    The Malazan woman regarded her. 'Well now, after all
this is done, permit me to buy you a drink.'
    Samar Dev's brows rose.
    'The message,' Karsa growled.
    'Right. It's this. You must not leave Darujhistan.'
    'And if I do?'
    'Then you will have lost your one opportunity to fulfil a
vow you once made.'
    'I have made many vows.'
    'I'm shocked to hear that.'
    Karsa was smiling, but something deadly had awakened
in it. 'Will you tell me more?'
    The woman hesitated again. 'I'm reconsidering. This
really needs to be private – no offence, Witch – he called
you that, yes? It's just that—'
    'Tell me,' Karsa demanded.
    Samar Dev was impressed to see that the Malazan
woman did not flinch from Karsa's dangerous smile.
'Toblakai, you will be needed.'
    'To do what?'
    'Why, to kill a god.'
    'Which god?'
    The Malazan woman stared, discomfited for the first
time since arriving. 'You were supposed to run away when I
told you that. Any sane person would.'
    'Then you found the wrong warrior,' said Samar Dev, her
mouth dry. 'And you were right, I wish I hadn't heard that.
I'm going to walk away now, so you can finish delivering
your message.'
    'Go to K'rul's Bar,' said the Malazan. 'Tell them Picker
sent you. Breakfast, decent wine, and if Blend offers to
prepare you a bath and maybe soap you down some, be
nice to her.'
    'Generous of you, I think.'
    'That's me,' Picker said.
    Samar Dev set out in search of K'rul's Bar. A breakfast
sounded very fine indeed, as did the notion of decent
wine. As for the bath, well, if it was indeed offered, why,
she suspected she'd be too weary to resist.
    Tens of thousands now followed the ox cart and its burden as
it made its way down from Lakefront and into the Gadrobi
District. Bells rang; the Great Ravens wheeled, adding their
wretched cries. And already, from the hills beyond Two-Ox
Gate, clouds of dust rose into the morning sky.
    Caladan Brood did not need to hew each stone, or
drive spade into stony soil. The warren of Tennes had
been awakened, and the flesh of Burn was given new
shape and new purpose. In this chosen place, a hill was
being transformed. And by the time Brood led the ox up
to the barrow's passage entrance, and took the body