Dust of Dreams

any signs of having been beaten or tortured. What left them on the edge of death was simple neglect. The most effective torture of all.
    ‘Preda,’ said Badan Gruk, in a low voice.
    Norlo Trumb turned to face him. ‘What is it now?’
    ‘You don’t feed them?’
    ‘The condemned received reduced rations, I am afraid—’
    ‘How long?’
    ‘Well, as I said, Sergeant, we have been awaiting the officer of the Royal Advocate for some time. Months and—’
    Two quarrels skimmed past the Preda’s head, one on either side, and both sliced the man’s ears. He shrieked in sudden shock and fell back, landing heavily on his behind.
    Badan pointed at the now cowering garrison guards. ‘No move now.’ And then he twisted in his saddle to glare at Honey and Skim. In Malazan he said, ‘Don’t even think about reloading! Shit-brained sappers!’
    ‘Sorry,’ said Skim, ‘I guess we both just sort’ve . . . twitched.’ And she shrugged.
    Honey handed her his crossbow and dropped down from his horse. ‘I’ll retrieve the quarrels—anybody see where they ended up?’
    ‘Bounced and skittered between them two buildings there,’ Reliko said, pointing with his chin.
    The Preda’s shock had shifted into fury. Ears streaming blood, he now staggered to his feet. ‘Attempted murder! I will see those two arrested! You’ll swim the canal for this!’
    ‘No understand,’ said Badan Gruk. ‘Pravalak, bring up the spare horses. We should’ve brought Dreader. I don’t think they can even ride. Flank ’em close on the way back—we’ll take it slow.’
    He studied the stumbling figures leaning on their escorts. Sergeant Sinter and her sister, Kisswhere. Looking like Hood’s own soiled loincloth. But alive. ‘Gods below,’ he whispered.
They are alive.
     
    ‘Aaii! My leg’s fallen off!’
    Banaschar sat motionless in the chair and watched the small skeletal lizard lying on its side and spinning now in circles on the floor, one leg kicking.
    ‘Telorast! Help me!’
    The other reptile perched on the window sill and looked down, head tilting from one side to the other, as if seeking the perfect angle of regard. ‘It’s no use, Curdle,’ it finally replied. ‘You can’t get anywhere like that.’
    ‘I need to get away!’
    ‘From what?’
    ‘From the fact that my leg’s fallen off!’
    Telorast scampered along the sill until it was as close as it could get toBanaschar. ‘Sodden priest of wine, hssst! Look over here—the window! It’s me, the clever one. Stupid one’s down on the floor there, see her? She needs your help. No, of course you can’t make her any less stupid—we’re not discussing that here. Rather, it’s one of her legs, yes? The gut binding or whatever has broken. She’s crippled, helpless, useless. She’s spinning in circles and that’s far too poignant for us. Do you understand? O Wormlet of the Worm Goddess, O scurrier of the worship-slayer eyeless bitch of the earth! Banaschar the Drunk, Banaschar the Wise, the Wisely Drunk. Please be so kind and nimble as to repair my companion, my dear sister, the stupid one.’
    ‘You might know the answer to this,’ said Banaschar. ‘Listen, if life is a joke, what kind of joke? The funny ha ha kind? Or the “I’m going to puke” kind? Is it a clever joke or a stupid one that’s repeated over and over again so that even if it was funny to begin with it’s not funny any more? Is it the kind of joke to make you laugh or make you cry? How many other ways can I ask this simple question?’
    ‘I’m confident you can think of a few hundred more, good sir. Defrocked, detached, essentially castrated priest. Now, see those strands there? Near the unhinged leg—oh, Curdle, will you stop that spinning?’
    ‘I used to laugh,’ said Banaschar. ‘A lot. Long before I decided on becoming a priest, of course. Nothing amusing in that decision, alas. Nor in the life that followed. Years and years of miserable study, rituals, ceremonies, the rigorous exercises of magery. And the Worm of Autumn, well, she did abide, did she not? Delivered our just reward—too bad I missed out on the fun.’
    ‘Pitiful wretch of pointless pedantry, would you be so kind—yes, reach out and down, out and down, a little further, ah! You have it! The twine! The leg! Curdle, listen—see—stop, right there, no, there, yes, see? Salvation is in hand!’
    ‘I can’t! Everything’s sideways! The world pitches into the Abyss!’
    ‘Never mind that—see?