The Crippled God

has come to us? What have we become, to do such things?
    Within sight of the Malazans, he halted. There was no mistaking this – the companies he now looked upon were the same as those he had seen earlier, down on the north side of the pass. Warren. But … no one has such power – I doubt even the gods could open such gates. Yet, how can I deny what I see with my own eyes? The enemy was drawn up, presenting a curious mix of heavy infantry, marines with crossbows, regulars and skirmishers. Beyond them a single small tent had been raised, around which soldiers clustered.
    A messenger ran up to Erekala from behind. ‘Sir! The enemy has reached the highest trench and continues to advance.’
    ‘Thank you,’ Erekala replied. He saw two figures emerging from the ranks, walking side by side, one tall, the other almost as tall but much broader across the shoulders. The ebon sheen of their skin cut a stark contrast to the bleached landscape. Dal Honese or southeast Seven Cities – ah, I know these two men. The thin one – I remember him standing at the prow, facing down the Tiste Edur fleet. The High Mage, Quick Ben. Meaning the other one is the assassin. They do not belong here. But, among all the flaws afflicting me, blindness is not one of them . Ignoring the soldier behind him, the commander set out to meet the two men.
    ‘Look at us now,’ Quick Ben muttered.
    ‘Never mind us,’ Kalam growled in reply. ‘I see the commander – that’s Erekala, right? See the ranks behind him? They’re a mess.’
    ‘You know,’ the wizard said, ‘I didn’t think it was possible. Opening two gates at the same time like that, and the size of them! Gods below, he really is the Master of the Deck.’
    Kalam glanced across at him. ‘You were sceptical?’
    ‘I’m always sceptical.’
    ‘Well, impressive as it was, Paran came out half dead – so even he has his limits.’
    ‘Minala’s all over him – jealous, Kalam?’
    The assassin shrugged. ‘That’s one bone I never had in my body, Quick.’
    ‘Her and Rythe Bude – what is it with Ganoes Paran anyway? All these women slobbering all over him.’
    ‘He’s younger,’ Kalam said. ‘That’s all it takes, you know. Us old farts ain’t got a chance.’
    ‘Speak for yourself.’
    ‘Wipe that grin off, Quick, or I’ll do it for you.’
    They were closing on Erekala now, and would meet approximately halfway between the two armies. The way it should be. ‘Look at us,’ Quick Ben said again, low, under his breath. ‘What do we know about negotiating?’
    ‘So leave it to me,’ Kalam replied. ‘I mean to keep it simple.’
    ‘Oh, this should be fun.’
    They halted six paces from the Perish commander, who also stopped, and the assassin wasted no time. ‘Commander Erekala, High Fist Paran extends his greetings. He wants you to surrender, so we don’t have to kill all of you.’
    The man looked like he’d been caught in the blast-wave of a cusser or sharper. His face was speckled with tiny cuts and gashes. Dust covered his uniform and he’d lost one chain-backed gauntlet. Erekala opened his mouth, shut it, and then tried again. ‘Surrender?’
    Kalam scowled. ‘Those sappers have only just started. You understanding me?’
    ‘What have you done?’
    Kalam grimaced, glanced away, hands now on his hips, and then looked back at the commander. ‘You’re seeing how it’s going to be – the old way of fighting is on its way out. The future, Erekala, just stood up and bit off half your face.’
    Erekala was clearly confused. ‘The future …’
    ‘This is how it’ll be. From now on. Fuck all the animals – they’ll all be gone. But we’ll still be here. We’ll still be killing each other, but this time in unimaginable numbers.’
    The commander shook his head. ‘When all the beasts are gone—’
    ‘Long live the cruellest beast of all,’ Kalam said, suddenly baring his teeth. ‘And it won’t end. It’ll never end.’
    Erekala’s eyes slowly widened, and then his gaze shifted past Quick Ben and Kalam, to the waiting ranks of Malazan soldiers. ‘When all the beasts are gone,’ he whispered, and then raised his voice, once more addressing Kalam. ‘Your words … satisfy me. Inform your High Fist. The Perish Grey Helms surrender.’
    ‘Good. Disarm – we’ll collect your weapons on our way through. Sorry we can’t help with your wounded, though – we’re in something of a hurry.’
    ‘And what do you intend to do with my brothers and