Crokus hunched down in his saddle. «You told me you all worked as agents for some merchant. What merchant? I don't see any merchant. And where's our horses? How come Coll's the only one with a horse? How come nobody gave me a sword or something? Why-?»
«All right!» Murillio laughed, holding up a hand. «Enough, please! We are agents for a merchant,» he explained. «But it's rather unusual merchandise we're acquiring.»
«A rather unusual merchant as well, Kruppe adds with a warm smile. «Lad, we are agents seeking information on behalf of our employer, who is none other than High Alchemist Baruk.» Crokus stared at Kruppe. «Baruk! And he can't afford to give us horses?»
Kruppe cleared his throat. «Ah, yes. Well. There was something of a misunderstanding between worthy, honest Kruppe and a conniving, deceitful stabler. None the less, Kruppe received full recompense, thus saving our kind master eleven silver coins.»
«Which he'll never see,» Murillio muttered.
Kruppe went on, «As for a sword, lad, what on earth for? Ignore blustery, pallid Coll there, with all his sweaty trappings of war. A mere affectation of his. And Murillio's rapier is no more than an ornamental trifle, though no doubt he would claim that the jewels and emeralds studding said item's hilt are towards achieving fine balance or some such martial detail.» Kruppe smiled beatifically at Murillio. «Nay, lad, the true masters at acquiring information need no such clumsy pieces of metal; indeed, we disdain them.»
«OK,» Crokus grumbled, «what kind of information are we looking for, then?»
«All that yon ravens overhead can see,» Kruppe said, waving a hand in the air. «Other travellers, other efforts within the Gadrobi Hills, all grist for Master Baruk's mill of news. We observe without being observed. We learn while remaining a mystery to all. We ascend to the-»
«Will you shut up?» Coll moaned. «Who brought the waterskins?»
Smiling, Murillio removed a clay jug webbed in twine from his saddlehorn and handed it to Coll.
«A sponge,» Kruppe said, «squeezed beneath the burden of armour. See the man down our precious water, see it immediately reappear salty and grimy on his weathered skin. What yon poisons have leaked forth? Kruppe shudders at the thought.»
Coll ignored him, handing the jug to Crokus. «Buck up, lad,» he said. «You're getting paid, and damn well. With luck there'll be no trouble. Believe me, in this kind of work, excitement is the last thing we're looking for. Still,» he glared at Murillio, «I'd feel a whole lot better if Rallick were with us.»
Crokus bristled. «And I'm an unworthy stand-in, right? You think I don't know that, Coll? You think — »
«Don't tell me what I think,» Coll rumbled. «I never said you were a stand-in, Crokus. You're a thief, and those kinds of skill come in a lot handier than anything I could manage. The same for Murillio.
«And as for Kruppe, well, his talents extend no further than his stomach and whatever he wants jammed in it. You and Rallick share a lot more than you think, and that's why you're the most qualified man here.»
«Barring the necessary brains, of course,» Kruppe said, «which is my true skill-though one such as Coll would never understand such abilities, alien as they are to him.»
Coll leaned towards Crokus. «You're wondering why I'm wearing all this armour,» he whispered loudly. «It's because Kruppe's in charge. When Kruppe's in charge I don't feel safe unless I'm prepared for war. If it comes to that, lad, I'll get us out alive.» He leaned back and stared straight ahead. «I've done it before. Right, Kruppe?»
«Absurd accusations.» Kruppe sniffed.
«So,» Crokus said, «what are we supposed to be on the look-out for?»
«We'll know it when we see it,» Murillio said. He nodded towards the hills rising to the east. «Up there.»
Crokus was silent for a time, then his eyes narrowed. «The Gadrobi Hills. Are we looking for a rumour, Murillio?»
Murillio stiffened, but it was Kruppe who replied, «Indeed, lad. Rumours upon rumours. I applaud your cunning conclusion. Now, where is that water jug? Kruppe's thirst has become intense.»
Sorry's departure through Jammit's Gate was casual, unhurried. Tracking the Coin Bearer was simple, and did not require that the boy remain within her range of vision. She sensed Crokus and Kruppe, in the company of two others, on the road a league beyond Worrytown. They did not seem to be in any kind of rush.
Whatever mission they were on, that it concerned the welfare of Darujhistan was plain. Thinking on it, Sorry was sure that the men within that group were spies and, in all likelihood, able ones. The dandy, Murillio, could move through noble-born circles with an ease coupled with a desirable coyness-the perfect combination for a spy. Rallick, though he did not accompany them on this mission, was the eyes and ears within the Assassins» Guild, thus covering another power base.
Kruppe's world was that of the thieves and lower classes, whence rumours sprang to life like weeds in muddy soil. The third man was clearly a military man, no doubt serving as the group's sword arm.
On a mundane level, then, an adequate group to protect the Coin Bearer, though insufficient to prevent her killing him-especially with the assassin left behind.
Yet something nagged within Sorry's mind, a vague suspicion that the group was heading into danger-a danger that threatened her as well.
Once beyond Worrytown she picked up her pace. As soon as she found herself alone on the road, she opened her Warren of Shadow and slipped into its swift tracks.
The Adjunct could find nothing to set apart the hill they approached. Its grass-cloaked summit was dwarfed by those around it. A half dozen scraggly, wind-twisted scrub oaks climbed one side amid a scree of broken boulders. The summit flattened out into a rough circle, rock pushing through here and there.
Overhead wheeled ravens, so high as to be no more than specks against the muggy grey sky. Lorn watched Tool striding ahead of her, the Imass choosing an unwavering path towards the hill's base. She slumped in her saddle, feeling defeated by the world around her. The midday heat sapped her strength, and the sluggishness reached through to her thoughts-not Oponn's doing, she knew. This was the pervasive dread clinging to the air, the sense that what they were doing was wrong, terribly wrong.
To fling this Jaghut Tyrant into the hands of the Empire's enemy, to trust this Tiste And? Anomander Rake to destroy it, yet at great cost to himself-thus opening the way for Malazan sorceries in turn to kill the Son of Darkness-now seemed precipitous, absurd in its ambitions.
Tool came to the base of the hill and waited for the Adjunct to arrive.
Lorn saw, at Tool's hide-wrapped feet, a grey rock jutting perhaps ten inches from the earth.
«Adjunct,» the Imass said, «this is the barrow marker we seek.»
She raised an eyebrow. «There's hardly any soil cover here at all,» she said. «Are you suggesting this standing stone has eroded down to its present size?»
«The stone has not eroded,» Tool answered. «It has stood here since before the sheets of ice came to cover this land. It stood here when the Rhivi Plain was an inland sea, long before the waters withdrew to what I is now Lake Azur. Adjunct, the stone is in fact taller than both of us combined, and what you think to be bedrock is shale.»
Lorn was surprised at the hint of anger in Tool's voice. She dismounted and set to hobbling the horses. «How long do we stay here, then?»
«Until this evening passes. With tomorrow's dawn I will open the way, Adjunct.»
Faintly from above came the cries of ravens. Lorn lifted her head and gazed at the specks wheeling high over them. They'd been with them for days. Was that unusual? She didn't know. Shrugging, she unsaddled the horses.