Murk did cuff him this time. ‘Quiet.’
‘Why?’
Murk tilted his head to the south and answered low. ‘ ’Cause we’re not alone.’
‘Who? Them?’ He flapped a tattered leather gauntlet. ‘Bah! They been watchin’ us for some time now.’
Murk gaped at his partner. ‘Then why didn’t you …’ Almost beyond words, he managed, resentfully, ‘And how would you know?’
Sour jerked a thumb to his chest. ‘Hey, I follow the Enchantress. Believe me — I know when I’m bein’ watched.’
Murk jumped on that. ‘There! You see! That’s exactly what I was getting at. She come and whisper in your ear?’
‘No, no. I keep tellin’ ya. Nothing like that.’ The squat fellow dug at one ear, smearing it in clay, while he tried to find the right words. ‘It’s more like a school of thought. Or a set a disciplines. Her way allows a deep access that kinda borders on Mockra, y’know? It’s a path she’s shaped that we follow. Get it?’ He peered up expectantly, brows raised.
Murk shook his head. ‘No. I don’t get it. That’s just a bunch of twaddle. Look, either she’s mistress of the Warren, or she’s a nobody.’
‘No! This ain’t Shadow. It ain’t a Realm — or a shadow of a real one.’ Murk flicked a gauntlet. ‘Houses, Holds, Realms. All that hoary old stuff. That’s the past. It’s all about paths now. No pledges or pacts or none o’ that stuff. It’s a new world, my friend.’
Murk was still shaking his head. ‘Can’t be that easy. Has to be a price …’
Sour just shrugged his humped shoulders.
‘Well — why didn’t we cross, then?’
‘That? Oh … I didn’t like the water. Gave me a bad feeling.’
Back at the column Burastan was waiting for them. She saluted Yusen then crooked a finger to call over Murk and Sour.
‘You two … maybe you could keep it down. I can’t hear the volcanoes or the stampeding elephants.’
‘Sorry, Bannister, ma’am,’ Sour mumbled.
The woman shook her head in disgust and stalked off. She threw over her shoulder: ‘And don’t wander so far from our guest.’
Sour threw up his dirty hands. ‘You called us …’ But she was gone. He turned his hurt gaze to Murk. ‘That gal. What’d we ever do to her?’
‘Don’t know. Why don’t you ask her one of these days?’
‘Yeah. Maybe.’
Murk just rubbed his gritty aching eyes. Ye gods …
That night was his worst yet. There was no food to be had at all. The scouts reported that something had scared off all the game. Murk sat with his arms wrapped around his knees. He sucked morosely on a knuckle of leather cut from a belt. At least when the rain started up they’d have some water to drink. Problem was all that fluid just went straight through him like a sieve. It came out looking exactly the same it did going in.
He and Sour traded off watches through the night. It was his turn when Yusen emerged from the sheeting rain to crouch down where they’d curled under the cover of a great towering tree.
‘We’re missing a patrol,’ he said, peering from beneath the dripping rim of his helmet.
Murk unclasped his knees. ‘I didn’t sense anything. How many?’
‘I’m not blaming you. Five. Scouts say the trail just up and disappears.’
‘What do you want me to do?’
The ex-officer looked offended. ‘What do I want you to do? I want you to find them, that’s what.’ He waved to the rain and Burastan emerged from the gloom. ‘Take a squad.’ The lieutenant nodded. Yusen jabbed a finger to him then jerked a thumb.
Murk took a deep breath to gather his strength then pushed himself awkwardly to his feet. He spat out the piece of leather he’d tucked into his cheek. Burastan waved him onward. He held up a hand for a pause. He stepped over a root as tall as his knees to find Sour nestled in where the root joined its fellow. If he hadn’t known the man was there he’d have passed right over him; mud-smeared, he resembled just another fat knot of wood. He poked Sour’s shoulder and the fellow jerked as if stung.
Eyes opened to glisten among the caked mud, leaves and twigs. ‘What d’ya want?’
‘Mind the store. I gotta go.’ And he gestured to where Burastan stood waiting in the rain. Sour goggled at the woman, his eyes growing huge. ‘Right …’
Murk wondered at his partner’s reaction until he got closer to the Seven Cities woman; her robes and top were near transparent in the rain. Against the pale milky skin of her jutting breasts her dark areolae stood out quite plainly. The woman impatiently gestured him onward again.
Burastan collected a squad. The men and women lumbered heavily to their feet and checked their weapons and shields. Then she curtly waved Murk into the jungle. ‘That way.’
Murk headed off, all the while wondering what this woman had against him and Sour. He walked slowly, and soon the lieutenant was level with him. ‘I’m not really the right fellow for this, you know,’ he told her, his voice held low.
Her answering snort told him she knew this damned well.
Huge drops pattered down from the canopy far above, slapping his head and shoulders. ‘You have any experience with large predators?’ he asked as he pushed aside broad leaves the size of himself.
‘Just men.’
Fair enough. Was this her problem? One of those man-haters? Yet she appeared to get along with the rest of the mercs well enough. And she followed Yusen’s orders without any resentment. She seemed to reserve her scorn for him and his partner.
Once he was far enough from the camp Murk halted. The squad spread out behind him and he felt Burastan’s warm disapproving presence just to his rear. He raised his Warren the slightest touch and felt it shimmering there near his fingertips.
‘What are you doing?’ Burastan whispered. ‘We’re supposed to be looking.’
‘I am.’
‘Really?’ The remark carried a wealth of contempt.
‘I am searching among the shadows.’
‘What for?’
Murk felt his patience finally slipping away. ‘For one that doesn’t belong. Now, if you don’t mind …?’
Her snort conveyed how little she minded.
Thanks to his Shadow talents the night was as clear as day for him. He sifted through the shadows nearby, finding nothing. Glancing back to Burastan, he saw in the woman’s clenched brows that she was a touch nervous out here in the dark so far from camp. Good. Let’s see how she likes stumbling about in the night. ‘This way, you say?’
She nodded, her jaws clenched. ‘Yes. The scouts found a blood-spoor but lost it in the rain.’
‘Let’s move on then.’ And he started forward.
After a brief hesitation, she followed, and the squad brought up the rear.
‘You don’t seem to have much time for me or Sour …’ he said as he pushed his way through stands of thick razor-sharp grasses.
‘Shouldn’t we be quiet?’ she answered, exasperated.
He stopped again to search among the shadows. ‘We’re making so much noise crashing through the underbrush that whatever it was is long gone by now. So …?’
Close to his side she scowled, a hand going to the grip of her curved sword. After a time she ground out, ‘I fought in the Insurrection. I have seen Malazan High Mages raise their might. I felt the Whirlwind and saw it brought low. I grew up hearing stories of Aren’s fall.’ Her gaze shifted from scanning the jungle and she made a show of looking him up and down. ‘You two. You’re a pathetic joke. That’s what you are. The might of Malaz …’ She snorted her contempt once again.
Ah. A touch bitter, are we? Well, we all have our stories. Fought in the Insurrection, did you? Which side, I wonder …
He gestured ahead. ‘A bit further.’
‘Wait.’ She waved up two of the escort. ‘Take point.’ The men nodded, hefted their large shields and drew their swords.
Here, the undergrowth was thin; the canopy so dense as to cut off all hint of the overcast sky. The ground was a slick morass of reddish clay. Murk was no farmer but so far the soil, if you could call it that, didn’t strike him as particularly fertile. Rich soil, so he understood, had to have rotting plant matter mixed up in it. This soil — or dirt — possessed none. The insects, fungus, mould and such seemed to immediately eat up most of the fallen vegetation, leaving the soil as desiccated and lifeless as any desert.