rustling was driving him to distraction; weren't these two bothered?
‘I speak for over fifty Avowed and of regular recruits, many thousands.’
The whispering was stilled as if swept away by the wind. Stoop took Kyle's arm. ‘You can go back to camp. Get some sleep.’
‘Shall I report to Trench? What of the
‘They know, lad. They know. Word's bein’ spread.’
The Imperial Council was convened in new quarters: one of the oldest of Imperial holdings in the capital city — the ancient castle of the old Untan city state overlooking the broad arc of the harbour. Possum, first to arrive in what proved to be a bare stone-walled room, tried to puzzle out the hidden message in this sudden new venue of Laseen's rulership. Was it a subtle reminder for the council of the traditional Untan ruling family, eradicated by Kellanved, Dancer, and, he constantly struggled to keep in mind, Laseen herself? A table only, no chairs, no food or wine in evidence — a calculated insult? But why bother? The council and Laseen were hardly on speaking terms; each treated the other as irrelevant.
It was, he reflected, dragging a gloved finger through the dust layering the thick embrasure of the single window, a damned inefficient way to run an empire. Through his control of the Assembly Mallick held the treasury and the government bureaucracy. Meanwhile, as Sword of the Empire, Korbolo Dom commanded the military. That is, what remained of it. Tayschrenn's continued unsettling silence and Quick Ben's desertion to follow Tavore left command of the Imperial Mage Cadre to the completely unknown Havva Gulen — once Archiveress of Imperial Records. A librarian. Gods above and below, Possum brushed the dust from his hands, the new Imperial High Mage was an ex-librarian. The old emperor, who some say ascended to godhood after his death, must be falling off his throne laughing.
The heavy door rattled open and in strode High Fist Anand, commander of the Malazan 4th Army, its domestic defence forces, which by Possum's intelligence sources now mustered less than twenty thousand men all told. The old commander stopped short at the threshold of the empty room. His white brows rose in silent comment. Possum shrugged.
Pursing his lips as if to say ‘well, well’, Anand crossed to the table, began sifting through the maps provided.
Possum rocked back and forth on his heels. And what of the Claw?
The door opened once more and in came the tall and broad figure of Havva Gulen wrapped in dark robes. Again Possum gauged first reactions. A pause of rapid blinking followed by a wide sly smile. Possum gave a nod in welcome, thinking that he just might come to like this new High Mage — despite her matted unwashed hair and ink-spotted robes.
‘Chilly in here,’ she offered with a mock shudder.
He smiled. ‘Palpably.’
‘It's the wind off the straits,’ Anand said without looking up.
Havva and Possum shared a wry look. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Looks like the wind is changing.’
The door banged open. Possum watched surprise, consternation and finally anger darken the blue-Napan features of the Sword of the Empire, Korbolo Dom. ‘What is the meaning of this?’ Possum shrugged. Havva studied Korbolo the way a scholar might examine a curious specimen. Anand did not even bother to look up from the map table. ‘Look at this!’ Korbolo waved a hand about the room. ‘This is an insult!’
‘Rather appropriate, I should think,’ said Possum.
Korbolo turned on him. ‘You! Why are you even here? You are irrelevant.’
Possum opened his mouth to make the obvious reply when Havva cut in, ‘Perhaps we all are, Sword of the Empire. Have you considered that?’
‘What are you going on about, woman?’
She glanced about the bare walls. ‘In the old days, when a councillor to the King or any high military officer was called to a meeting only to find himself delivered to an empty prison-like room… well, the conclusion would be inescapable, don't you think?’ She put a fat, ink-stained finger to her mouth. ‘Shall we perhaps try the door? Does it even open from the inside, do you think?’
Korbolo stared at the High Mage, his eyes bulging. Possum could not hold back a laugh. The door rattled and everyone glanced to it; Mallick stood in the threshold, blinking. ‘Nothing important missed, I trust?’
‘Nothing important,’ said Possum, ‘just us talking.’
Smiling, Mallick rubbed his pale hands together. ‘Good.’ He shut the door, peered about the room. ‘How very severe. Proper war footing, yes? I see we have quorum. Let us begin. High Fist Anand, the Assembly asks me to humbly convey their concerns. How go domestic preparations?’
Anand looked up, frowning. ‘Assembly? What Assembly? What can it possibly consist of now? You and your dog?’
Mallick's bland smile on his round moon-like face did not waver. ‘Assurances, commander. We have maintained full membership throughout traitorous desertions. Brave new representatives have consented to sit. All provisional, of course, until peace and order restored.’
‘And how much did that cost,’ Anand muttered into his maps. Sighing, he shrugged his high thin shoulders. ‘It is going as well as can be hoped given how hamstrung we are. We've lost most of our resources across the continent. Entire regiments have fallen back to their roots and come out as Itko Kanese or Grisan. Ugly rumours of ethnic slaughters accompany those reports. Armouries have been confiscated; ships impounded. The shortage of competent mages means communication by the old ways of road and sea. It's a damned mess.’
‘And what would you advise?’
Korbolo cut in, ‘You forget yourself, Mallick. As First Sword I determine strategy.’
Mallick merely raised a placating hand. A hand like a blind fish drawn up from the depths, thought Possum, suppressing a shudder. ‘Merely canvassing for opinions. We are here to discuss, after all. Indulgence please. High Fist Anand?’
The glower that knuckled Korbolo's face told Possum that the First Sword was seriously wondering just how much longer to indulge Mallick.
Anand frowned, his white brows drawing down to almost hide his eyes. ‘We can't be certain of any territory, therefore we must consolidate. Secure from the centre outward.’
‘Excellent. And you, Sword of the Empire? Your opinion?’
Korbolo scowled, almost pouting. ‘I disagree. We must move with all speed.’
Mallick folded his hands across his paunch. ‘So. Opposing strategies. Perhaps this is good in that relative merits may be examined.’
Possum could not take his eyes from the fat little man. He'd done it again — taken charge. How did he do it? Was it some weakness in their collective character, or strength of a trait in him? Again Possum felt unnerved by the little man's presence, as if Mallick were something other, something less, or more, than what he appeared. It reminded Possum of a similar situation from long ago. One he could not quite place.
The door opened once again. All straightened, turning. Laseen entered. She wore her signature plain slippers, straight trousers and green silk tunic. No symbol of rank or standing upon her — it had long ago occurred to Possum that this lack was not an affectation; the woman simply did not need them to let anyone know who she was. It was in her eyes, her posture: sovereignty. She was shorter than Possum but he always had the impression she was looking down at him. The deepened lines bracketing her thin mouth told him she was not pleased.
A curt nod acknowledged their obeisance. ‘You have had a chance to talk?’
‘Yes,’ said Mallick. ‘We were just-’
‘A brief, if you please, High Fist Anand,’ Laseen cut through Mallick.
Mallick's mouth snapped shut like a fish. Beneath his short greying beard, Anand gave his first smile. ‘A pleasure, Your Highness. I was merely awaiting your arrival. Our sources, such as they are, agree that an army is marching in all haste from Tali. It is gathering forces as it moves east. It seems this insurgent Duchess Ghelel is quite certain of her control. Enough to accompany the army, in any case-’
‘A Duchess,’ snorted Korbolo. ‘How absurd!’
Possum shot a glance to the Empress whose mouth tightened even further. Havva, he saw, grinned openly.
