Return of the Crimson Guard

light.’

And that had brought him here? She considered the hidden implications of that claim. Bluster? Bluff? Or what if it was true? What influence could he have had on their, admittedly unusual, posting? Did he actually mean to imply that he…

Hurl stopped walking. Silk carried on. The Captain urged her forward with one big hand at her back. He'd brought her in. That is, she remembered him asking what she thought of Storo and the next thing she knew she was somehow transferred to this squad. He'd even brought in Rell. She remembered him taking the Captain to see this swordsman he'd come across in the Malyntaeas gaol. Shortly after that new recruit Rell was in the squad. By all the Gods above and below — had Silk somehow been recruiting? All with an eye to this evening, this eventuality? No. That was too outrageous. Just who was he?

The stone-flagged walkway ended at a locked iron door that Silk opened, and that in turn led to a hall and a stone circular stairway. He stopped them here then pushed back his hair and tied it with a faded strip of silk. ‘Ready yourselves,’ he whispered. The door above opens on to the City Temple. There's no way of knowing who's within, or how many.’ He looked to Storo, who cleared his throat.

‘Right. So, saboteurs — put away the crossbows.’

‘Bullshit,’ said Shaky. ‘From my dead hands maybe.’

Storo eyed him. ‘Don't tempt me… Crossbows away. Each of you ready a satchel of sharpers and smokers and such — all we've got. This is gonna be room to room. Me ‘n’ Jalor will be up front. OK? OK.’

Shaky and Hurl pillaged Sunny's hoard even as he squirmed and snarled and tried to snatch it all back. Storo unslung his two-handed cutlass while Jalor tightened the strap of his domed helmet then drew his long-knives. Rell unsheathed each of his two odd slim longswords, single-edged, slightly curved, and then threw the sheaths away into the dark. That gesture dried Hurl's mouth.

As they climbed the stairs, Silk leading, Hurl hooked the crossbow on her belt and used her foot to cock it, then left it hanging from its shoulder-strap. They got to the door, or what Silk indicated was the door: it looked like just another length of wall to Hurl. Using battle signs Storo ordered an initial charge followed by a halt during which he and the heavies would defend while the saboteurs cleared the room. Everyone signed their understanding.

Silk did something there at the wall and a door appeared. He stepped through then aside. Storo, Rell and Jalor followed in as silently as they could but for the soft jangling of armour. Hurl came in next. She blinked in the brightness. Squinting, one hand holding a sharper shading her eyes, she saw an empty room.

It struck her that she didn't know what people imagined when someone said Throne room, but what came to her mind were images of large raised thrones occupied by a dried-up man or woman, simpering concubines, monkey-faced ministers eyeing the slave boys, and eunuch clerks eyeing the silverware. In any case, the room was empty, domed and circular. It was also very clean and very white and bright — though no source of light was visible.

So this was it. The Cynosure of Heng. Hurl was disappointed but also strangely impressed. The Inner Focus. The City Temple at last. Where was everyone?

Silk gestured opposite to a set of nearly indistinguishable double doors. The Captain signed the advance and they crossed the chamber.

As they came to the middle they found that in fact the chamber was not empty. Dead centre they reached a small seat. Nothing more than a leather-saddled folding camp stool with wooden armrests. Everyone except Rell stopped to stare down at it. No one spoke a word. Was this the Throne of Li Heng? Hurl didn't know what to think — it was too strange. Yet as he was looking down, Silk's face held that sadness, that mysterious yearning, that so drew the serving wenches. Of them all Rell had kept his eyes on the doors. The Captain signed to move on.

Hurl came alongside Silk. ‘I don't see any lamps or smell smoke. How's this place lit?’

That smile. ‘Just the fading afterglow of the glory that was, Hurl.’

‘Quiet.’ The Captain.

Jalor pulled open the doors revealing the backs of four guards who turned, amazed. Rell lunged, his blades flashing, and the four were down before they could unsheathe their weapons.

Everyone stared, just as stunned. ‘I thought you had some kinda code,’ Shaky said to Rell. ‘Ain't that against your code, them being unarmed ‘n’ all?’

‘They were armed,’ answered Rell without even turning. ‘They were just slow.’

They now faced a long hallway ending at another, much taller, set of double doors. Small portals opened on to the hall down its length. ‘Don't like this,’ grumbled Shaky.

Silk pointed to the doors opposite. ‘That is the only entrance to these temple quarters.’

‘Down the hall, double-time,’ ordered Storo.

They charged. Civilians gaped from archways. One tall bearded fellow bellowed something — they ignored him. Just as they reached the doors they opened at the hands of the old gal herself at the head of a column of some fifteen men, soldiers obviously, though none wore Malazan livery.

‘Get them!’ she managed before Rell's blades pierced the air where she'd been an instant before. The men snarled and drew. Rell almost threw himself upon them but was muscled back by the Captain with a growled ‘Not… yet.’

Silk had already disappeared. Jalor and the Captain crossed blades with the front of the column. Rell moved to cover the rear. Sunny raised a fist, shouting, ‘’Ware!’ The men went ashen-faced and flinched — definitely veterans. Sunny threw and ducked, as did everyone. The sharper cracked just past the threshold in the midst of the column. The detonation threw bodies to the walls in a flash of sprayed gore. Jalor and the Captain finished off the stunned survivors.

‘What is the meaning of this slaughter!’

Hurl turned; it was the bearded old fellow. He wore long dark robes of some rich cloth Hurl knew she'd probably never even touched in her life and came marching up to Rell who stopped him with one glistening wet sword point. The man should thank all the Gods that he was unarmed.

Storo crossed to him. He touched the rim of his helmet. ‘Magistrate Plengyllen. What can I do for you?’

‘Do! Do!’ the man spluttered. ‘These are sacred precincts! Holy grounds! How dare you pollute-’

‘There's been a coup,’ Storo cut in. ‘Fist Rheena has been murdered.’

The magistrate subsided at that. He straightened his robes. ‘Yes. I was informed that assassins…’ His voice trailed away and his eyes bulged. He pointed. ‘You! Burn protect us!’ He backed away, arms raised, then fled through a portal shouting, ‘Guards! Assassins! Murder!’

‘Should I shut him up?’ asked Sunny.

Storo waved him off, sighing, ‘Never mind.’

‘Reinforcements!’ Shaky called from the double doors.

They pushed their way through the halls of the City Temple. Hurl reflected that Fat Kepten had come with a lot more men than the Captain had thought; that or that Storo had underbid, not wanting them to back out right from the start. In any case, Kepten's men — plain hireswords or true-believing soldiers out of uniform — kept coming. Though the garrison did keep out of it, as the Captain had said they would. Whenever crossbowmen massed at a corner or doorway Shaky and Hurl rousted them with munitions. The squad made it plain that whenever Kepten's crew resorted to missile-fire they'd return in kind, and theirs blew up. They took the hint. Hurl wasn't sure why they hadn't come with any alchemicals of their own, but they did have the mages. Ropes of flame would lash out only to be snuffed by Silk. Some kind of shadow thing took a bite out of the Captain only to disappear in a flash of blinding pure white light. Hurl's old friend Runty even appeared in their midst, knifed three including her, and brought down Jalor only to be thrust through the back by Rell. Shaky took a knife in the side and dropped a sharper closer to himself than the enemy. The Captain took the brunt of that. Hurl thought it a shame; the Captain been doing damn fine until then.

After kicking aside the bodies blocking the outer doors, only the Captain, Hurl, Sunny and Rell remained standing. And only Rell was in any shape to fight. All through the night Hurl had wondered why the Captain had constantly shouldered the Genabackan youth to rear guard. Now she saw the light. Canny Captain. Reserves. Rell was by far the best fighter of them all and he was fresh. The poor lad fairly vibrated with the need to slay.

Weaving, the Captain leaned against the stout oak doors and wiped an arm across his glistening face. Hurl sheathed her long-knife and opened her satchel: two left. She looked to Sunny who held up one finger then tried to