‘Customs?’ Still gazing down at Karsa, Cord bared his teeth. ‘The Nathii custom has been to run and hide when the Teblor raid. Your studious, deliberate corruption of the Sunyd is unique, Silgar. Your destruction of that tribe was a business venture on your part. Damned successful it was, too. The only flouting going on here is yours, with Malazan law.’ He looked up, his smile broadening. ‘What in Hood’s name do you think our company’s doing here, you perfumed piece of scum?’
All at once tension filled the air as hands settled on sword-grips.
‘Rest easy, I’d advise,’ Ebron said from one side. ‘I know you’re a Mael priest, Silgar, and you’re right on the edge of your warren right now, but I’ll turn you into a lumpy puddle if you make so much as a twitch for it.’
‘Order your thugs back,’ Cord said, ‘or this Teblor will have company on his way to the mines.’
‘You would not dare-’
‘Wouldn’t I?’
‘Your captain would-’
‘No, he wouldn’t.’
‘I see. Very well. Damisk, take the men outside for a moment.’
Karsa heard receding footsteps.
‘Now then, Sergeant,’ Silgar continued after a moment, ‘how much?’
‘Well, I admit I was considering some kind of exchange. But then the town’s bells stopped. Which tells me we’re out of time. Alas. Captain’s back-there, the sound of the horses, coming fast. All of this means we’re all official, now, Silgar. Of course, maybe I was stringing you along all the time, until you finally went and offered me a bribe. Which, as you know, is a crime.’
The Malazan troop had arrived at the corral, Karsa could hear. A few shouts, the stamping of hoofs, a brief exchange of words with Damisk and the other guards standing outside, then heavy boots on the floorboards.
Cord turned. ‘Captain-’
A rumbling voice cut him off. ‘I thought I’d left you under house guard. Ebron, I don’t recall granting you permission to rearm these drunken louts…’ Then the captain’s words trailed away.
Karsa sensed the smile on Cord’s face as he said, ‘The Teblor attempted an assault on our position, sir-’
‘Which no doubt sobered you up quick.’
‘That it did, sir. Accordingly, our clever sorcerer here decided to give us back our weapons, so that we could effect the capture of this overgrown savage. Alas, Captain, matters have since become somewhat more complicated.’
Silgar spoke. ‘Captain Kindly, I came here to request the return of my slave and was met with overt hostility and threats from this squad here. I trust their poor example is not indicative of the depths to which the entire Malazan army has fallen-’
‘That they’re definitely not, Slavemaster,’ Captain Kindly replied.
‘Excellent. Now, if we could-’
‘He tried to bribe me, sir,’ Cord said in a troubled, distressed tone.
There was silence, then the captain said, ‘Ebron? Is this true?’
‘Afraid it is, Captain.’
There was cool satisfaction in Kindly’s voice as he said, ‘How unfortunate. Bribery is a crime, after all…’
‘I was just saying the same thing, sir,’ Cord noted.
‘I was invited to make an offer!’ Silgar hissed.
‘No you wasn’t,’ Ebron replied.
Captain Kindly spoke. ‘Lieutenant Pores, place the slavemaster and his hunters under arrest. Detach two squads to oversee their incarceration in the town gaol. Put them in a separate cell from that bandit leader we captured on the way back-the infamous Knuckles is likely to have few friends locally. Barring those we strung up beside the road east of here, that is. Oh, and send in a healer for Limp-Ebron seems to have made something of a mess in his efforts on the unfortunate man.’
‘Well,’ Ebron snapped, ‘I ain’t Denul, you know.’
‘Watch your tone, Mage,’ the captain calmly warned.
‘Sorry, sir.’
‘I admit to some curiosity, Ebron,’ Kindly continued. ‘What is the nature of this spell you have inflicted on this warrior?’
‘Uh, a shaping of Ruse-’
‘Yes, I know your warren, Ebron.’
‘Yes, sir. Well, it’s used to snare and stun dhenrabi in the seas-’
‘Dhenrabi? Those giant sea-worms?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Well, why in Hood’s name isn’t this Teblor dead?’
‘Good question, Captain. He’s a tough one, he is, ain’t he just.’
‘Beru fend us all.’
‘Aye, sir.’
‘Sergeant Cord.’
‘Sir?’
‘I have decided to drop the charges of drunkenness against you and your squad. Grief for lost ones. An understandable reaction, all things considered. This time. The next abandoned tavern you stumble into, however, is not to be construed as an invitation to licentiousness. Am I understood?’
‘Perfectly, sir.’
‘Good. Ebron, inform the squads that we are departing this picturesque town. As soon as possible. Sergeant Cord, your squad will see to the loading of supplies. That will be all, soldiers.’
‘What of this warrior?’ Ebron asked.
‘How long will this sorcerous net last?’
‘As long as you like, sir. But the pain-’
‘He seems to be bearing up. Leave him as he is, and in the meantime think of a way to load him onto the bed of a wagon.’
‘Yes, sir. We’ll need long poles-’
‘Whatever,’ Captain Kindly muttered, striding away.
Karsa sensed the sorcerer staring down on him. The pain had long since faded, no matter what Ebron’s claims, and indeed, the steady, slow tensing and easing of the Teblor’s muscles had begun to weaken it.
Not long, now…
CHAPTER THREE
Among the founding families of Darujhistan, there is Nom.
The Noble Houses of Darujhistan
‘I MISSED YOU, KARSA ORLONG.’
Torvald Nom’s face was mottled blue and black, his right eye swollen shut. He had been chained to the wagon’s forward wall and was slouched down amidst rotting straw, watching as the Malazan soldiers levered the Teblor onto the bed using stripped-down saplings that had been inserted beneath the limbs of the huge, net-wrapped warrior. The wagon shifted and groaned as Karsa’s weight settled on it.
‘Pity the damned oxen,’ Shard said, dragging one of the saplings free, his breath harsh and his face red with exertion.
A second wagon stood nearby, just within the field of Karsa’s vision as he lay motionless on the weathered boards. In its back sat Silgar, Damisk, and three other Nathii lowlanders. The slavemaster’s face was white and patchy, the blue and gold trim of his expensive clothes stained and wrinkled. Seeing him, Karsa laughed.
Silgar’s head snapped around, dark eyes fixing like knives on the Uryd warrior.
‘Taker of slaves!’ Karsa sneered.
The Malazan soldier, Shard, climbed onto the wagon’s wall and leaned over to study Karsa for a moment, then he shook his head. ‘Ebron!’ he called out. ‘Come look. That web ain’t what it was.’
The sorcerer clambered up beside him. His eyes narrowed. ‘Hood take him,’ he muttered. ‘Get us some chains, Shard. Heavy ones, and lots of them. Tell the captain, too, and hurry.’
The soldier dropped out of sight.
Ebron scowled down at Karsa. ‘You got otataral in your veins? Nerruse knows, that spell should have killed you long ago. What’s it been, three days now. Failing that, the pain should have driven you mad. But you’re no madder than you were a week ago, are you?’ His scowl deepened. ‘There’s something about you… something…’
Soldiers were suddenly clambering up on all sides, some dragging chains whilst others held back slightly with crossbows cocked. ‘Can we touch this?’ one asked, hesitating over Karsa. ‘You can now,’ Ebron replied, then spat.
Karsa tested the magical constraints in a single, concerted surge that forced a bellow from his throat. Strands snapped. Answering shouts. Wild panic.
As the Uryd began dragging himself free, his sword still in his right hand, something hard cracked into the side of his head. Blackness swept over him.