The Crippled God

head bowed, and await their fate. Then there are those who fight, who strain, who cry out their defiance even as the blade descends.’ He pointed a finger at Blistig. ‘Now you will speak true, Fist: which one is Adjunct Tavore?’
    ‘A drunken fool speaks for our commander?’ Blistig’s voice was vicious. He bared his teeth. ‘How damned appropriate! Will you stand there with us on that day, Banaschar?’
    ‘I shall.’
    ‘Drunk.’ The word was a sneer.
    The man’s answering smile was terrible. ‘No. Stone sober, Blistig. As befits your one – your only – witness.’
    ‘Hood take your damned executioner! I will have none of this!’ Blistig appealed to his fellow Fists. ‘Knowing what you now know, will you lead your soldiers to their deaths? If this Glass Desert doesn’t kill us, the Assail will. And all for what? A feint? A fucking feint ?’ He spun to the Adjunct. ‘Is that all we’re worth, woman? A rusty dagger for one last thrust and if the blade snaps, what of it?’
    Krughava spoke. ‘Adjunct Tavore. This thing that is wounded, this thing in the temple upon the Spire – what is it that you wish freed?’
    ‘The heart of the Crippled God,’ Tavore replied.
    The Mortal Sword seemed visibly rocked by that. Behind her, with eyes shining, Tanakalian asked, ‘ Why? ’
    ‘The Forkrul Assail draw upon its blood, Shield Anvil. They seek to open the Gates of Justice upon this world. Akhrast Korvalain. To unleash the fullest measure of power, they intend to drive a blade through that heart when the time is right—’
    ‘And when is that?’ Abrastal demanded.
    ‘When the Spears of Jade arrive, Highness. Less than three months from now, if Banaschar’s calculations are correct.’
    The ex-priest grunted. ‘D’rek is coiled about time itself, friends.’
    Clearing his throat, Brys asked, ‘The Jade Spears, Adjunct. What are they?’
    ‘The souls of his worshippers, Prince. His beloved believers. They are coming for their god.’
    Chills tracked Aranict’s spine.
    ‘If the heart is freed,’ said Krughava, ‘then … he can return to them.’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘He will leave pieces behind no matter what,’ said Banaschar. ‘Pulling him down tore him apart. But there should be enough. As for the rest, well, “for the rotted flesh, the Worm sings”.’ His laugh was bitter. He stared at Tavore. ‘See her? Look well, all of you. She is the madness of ambition, friends. From beneath the hands of the Forkrul Assail, and those of the gods themselves, she means to steal the Crippled God’s heart.’
    Queen Abrastal gusted out a breath. ‘My Fourteenth Daughter is even now approaching the South Kingdoms. She is a sorceress of considerable talent. If we are to continue this discussion of tactics, I will seek to open a path to her—’
    The Adjunct cut in. ‘Highness, this is not your war.’
    ‘Forgive me, Adjunct Tavore, but I believe it is.’ She turned to her Barghast Warchief. ‘Spax, your warriors hunger for a scrap – what say you?’
    ‘Where you lead, Highness, the White Face Gilk shall follow.’
    ‘The Otataral sword I wear—’
    ‘Forgive me again, Adjunct, but the power my daughter is drawing upon now happens to be Elder. Omtose Phellack.’
    Tavore blinked. ‘I see.’
    Brys Beddict then spoke. ‘Mortal Sword Krughava, if you will accept the alliance of Queen Abrastal, will you accept mine?’
    The grey-haired woman bowed. ‘Prince – and Highness – the Perish are honoured. But …’ she hesitated, then continued, ‘I must tell you all, I shall be harsh company. Knowing what the Bonehunters face … knowing that they will face it alone, as wounded as the very heart they would see freed … ah, my mood is grim indeed, and I do not expect that to change. When at last I strike for the Spire, you will be hard pressed to match my determination.’
    Brys smiled. ‘A worthy challenge, Mortal Sword.’
    The Adjunct walked to stand once more before Hanavat. ‘Mother,’ she said, ‘I would ask this of you: will the Khundryl march with the Bonehunters?’
    Hanavat seemed to struggle finding her voice. ‘Adjunct, we are few.’
    ‘Nonetheless.’
    ‘Then … yes, we shall march with you.’
    Queen Abrastal asked, ‘Adjunct? Shall I call upon Felash, my FourteenthDaughter? There are matters of tactics and logistics awaiting us this day. By your leave, I—’
    ‘I am done with this!’ Blistig shouted, turning to leave.
    ‘Stand where you are, Fist,’ Tavore