The Crippled God

Malazans. Furthermore, we are certain that our Shield Anvil has concluded much the same, and that he is now at odds with the Mortal Sword.’
    ‘And who will win this wrestling for control of your land-based army?’
    ‘There is no ambiguity, Sister Reverence. The Mortal Sword shall be made to accept her crime, and do penance. If she refuses, she will be divested of her title and the privileges it affords. The time has come. The vengeance of the Wolves of Winter must now begin.’
    ‘All very delightful,’ Sister Reverence purred, and then she leaned forward. ‘Unfortunately, the Forkrul Assail demand something more than an alliance of forces that just happen to share – for the moment at least – a common cause.’ She raised her voice. ‘Now, you shall kneel. You shall avow your service to the will of the Forkrul Assail.’
    Even Brother Diligence felt buffeted by the power of Sister Reverence’s sorcery. Against this, no mere human, no matter how pious or disciplined, could stand.
    The chamber echoed with the creak and clatter of armour as the Perish warriors knelt on the bloodstained tiles of the throne room.
    Diligence turned to Reverence. ‘Sister, I look forward to using these subjects. And it pleases me to know that yet more are on their way.’
    She nodded, leaning back. ‘What are wolves but dogs not yet beaten into submission?’
    Diligence frowned. ‘Their cause is just, Sister Reverence.’
    ‘It is indeed, Brother. But wildness is without discipline. Even savagery must be controlled, given direction and focus. We shall be the guiding hand.’
    ‘As you say, Sister.’ He regarded the still-kneeling Perish.
    ‘You look thoughtful, Brother.’
    ‘I was contemplating setting these warriors against the Master of the Deck of Dragons.’
    Reverence arched her brows, and then said, ‘Brother Serenity, what think you of that notion?’
    ‘I only ask that I be granted the privilege of commanding them, Sister. It is my understanding that the offending army is composed of Malazans, and I have a history with Malazans.’
    ‘Send them, Brother Diligence. Break their defences, Serenity, and if you can, drive them out into the open. I dare say even mastery of thewarrens would not save them then. At that moment, we shall discover what other resources the man possesses, if any.’
    ‘Do you want him delivered in chains before you, Sister?’
    She considered, and then said, ‘No. His head will suffice.’
    The swarm of Shards twisted as it lifted high into the air, blotting out a third of the sky. The shadow it cast spread across the ravaged, lifeless desert, flowing like black water. The scent of suffering was in the air, and the hunger of the locusts was, as ever, desperate.
    The shadow found the prey, but even the sudden cooling of air was not enough to awaken it to the threat fast closing, and the locusts rushed towards it. As the vast cloud hovered a moment it seemed to tremble, and then out from its heart burst a winged creature. It plummeted down upon the unconscious form lying sprawled on the parched ground, and in its wake descended the Shards, their wings voicing a roar.
    Taloned hands reached down, grasped hold of the body, lifted it effortlessly. Wings thundering, the creature rose back into the sky. Behind it, the locusts spun in confusion.
    From the body he held, Gu’Rull could taste the flavour of life, but that flavour was weakening. He wondered if he’d end up delivering a corpse to Gesler and Stormy. It made little difference to the Shi’gal Assassin. This one, this Mortal Sword of the Grey Helms, had lost her command, and such failures revealed flaws of character – better that such flaws be exposed now rather than later, when the lives of thousands might be at stake.
    A waste of time, this. I was drawing closer to the enemy. The Destriant should not have called me back .
    The Shi’gal was looking forward to the imminent war. The bitter flavour of ancient memories remained strong in the K’Chain Che’Malle. There could be no convenient rewriting of histories, such as seemed common among humans. No invented myths of past glory and honour that never was. The crimes committed back then were as sordid as those committed now, or those to come. And in the moment of slaughter, none of that really mattered. Who struck the first blow all those thousands of years ago was without relevance. The only thing that counted was who would strike the last blow.
    This contingent of Forkrul