‘I’m trying to save your damn-fool life, Guardsman!’
Corlo pushed himself from the door. Save a life! That’s just what I told myself every time I spoke to Bars. I was trying to save his life. Well, lying is no way to do that. Better to be thought a betrayer, a traitor, than that.
Atop Ice Tower, a Korelri Stormguard arrived and bowed to Section Marshal Learthol, who was in conversation with Wall Marshal Quint. ‘The captive has been delivered.’
Learthol accepted the message. Quint gave curt wave. ‘Good. Let’s hope we can squeeze the last of the season out of this champion.’
Another Chosen stepped forward from the shadows of the chamber and the Korelri guard stiffened, bowing again. ‘Lord Protector.’
Lord Protector Hiam acknowledged the bow. He addressed Learthol: ‘I understand there are others here just as promising…’
‘Yes. A surprising number of skilled prisoners of late. We must keep a close eye upon them.’
The Lord Protector studied the oil flame of the communication device of this uppermost chamber. ‘Yes, Section Marshal. And we must take care to watch this flame. If calamity strikes we will have to summon aid quickly.’
‘Yes, my lord. I must say, we are honoured by your presence.’
The Lord Protector waved such sentiments aside. ‘Where else would I be, Learthol? You’ll have more support soon. These Roolians will fill the inconsequential gaps. Easing the load for us. Soon you will have the numbers you should have had all along.’
‘My thanks. But we would have held regardless.’
‘Of course.’ The Lord Protector stared into the flame for a time, then gazed at Learthol as if not seeing him. ‘That will be all. Thank you.’
Bowing, the guard and the Section Marshal exited, pulling the door shut behind them.
In the relative quiet the howling wind returned to punish the shutters, which were seized in ice on all four sides. Quint’s scarred face twisted as he studied the Lord Protector. ‘You have news?’
A slow assent from Hiam. ‘Yes. This overlord and his Roolian troops have been pushed back from the coast. The Malazans have struck inland towards the Barrier range.’
Quint slammed the butt of his spear to the flagging. ‘They would take Kor!’
Hiam pressed a hand to one iced shutter. ‘Perhaps…’
‘Perhaps? What else could they intend?’
‘They might…’ Hiam wrenched open the westward-facing shutters. Cutting winds whipped through the chamber, snapping their cloaks and clearing a table of clutter and pages of vellum. The oil flame of the communication beacon was snuffed. Hiam stared down the ice-encrusted wall, where beneath fat hanging clouds and driving snow raging waves were breaking almost even with the wall’s outermost crenellations. All is grey — iron-grey, both sea and stone. ‘They might make a strike for the wall,’ he admitted.
Quint slammed shut the leaf. ‘Good! We will crush them!’
Hiam gave the ghost of a smile. ‘Of course, Quint.’
‘Yes!’ The Wall Marshal relit the fat wick of the oversized lamp. ‘Perhaps the Lady has drawn them here to destroy them.’ He studied his commander through narrowed eyes. ‘Had you not thought of that, Hiam?’
The Lord Protector was startled. No, indeed. I had not considered that… Lady forgive me! My faith is shallower than I suspected. I must pray long tonight. He answered Quint’s steady gaze. Living Spear of the wall. You know no doubt, Quint. The Spear does not reflect — it strikes!
Rubbing his brow, Hiam acknowledged, ‘No, Quint I hadn’t thought of that. My thanks for reminding me that the ways of the Lady are beyond our knowing.’ He squeezed the older man’s shoulder. ‘With you as our pillar, we shall not fail.’ And he passed by to descend the narrow circular staircase, leaving Quint alone in the light of the guttering flame.
That evening Hiam was taking a hot dinner of stew with Section Commander Learthol. There came a knock at the door and a Korelri Chosen bowed. ‘Lord Protector, the adviser to the Overlord has arrived. Shall I admit him?’
Hiam sipped his tea. ‘Yes. Have him brought up.’
The man bowed. ‘Lord Protector.’
‘I have heard stories of this one,’ Learthol said, after the Chosen had left. ‘They say the Lady permits him the practice of his witchery.’
Hiam nodded. ‘Yes. There is precedent in history.’
Learthol stroked his long chin. ‘True. There are stories of a pair of travelling sorcerers. She did not destroy them.’
Hiam waved a hand. ‘I understand they were merely passing through. They were of no consequence.’
A knock came at the door and Hiam called, ‘Enter.’
The guard showed the man in, then, at a sign from Hiam, departed. The man, Ussu, bowed. His robes were travel-stained and wet with rain and snow. His long grey hair was plastered to his skull and he was shivering. Rising, Hiam gestured to a chair. ‘Please sit. You are just arrived? What word from the Overlord?’
Sitting, the old man extended his hands out to the small stove in the middle of the chamber. ‘Thank you for receiving me, Lord Protector.’
‘Not at all.’
‘No doubt you have heard the news from the south.’
‘Yes. These Malazans have gained a foothold.’ The man winced, whether at the bluntness of his phrasing or the use of the word Malazans, Hiam wasn’t sure.
‘Yes, Lord Protector. They have struck inland for the foothills and the Barrier range.’
‘And the Overlord?’
‘Is marshalling his troops in order to pursue, I understand.’
Hiam offered the man some tea. ‘Excellent. If they dare to move north we will have them caught between us, yes?’ And should they dare approach? What could we possibly spare to meet them? Blood and iron, of course. As we deliver to all who would defy the Lady.
Ussu accepted the small cup. ‘Yes, Lord Protector.’
‘And the Overlord sent you to reassure us, perhaps?’
‘In truth, Lord Protector, I am come on another errand. I wish to question your champion. If I may.’
Hiam grunted a laugh. ‘Your timing is impeccable, Adviser. You can have him. Just this afternoon he lost his mind. Went berserk. Tried to murder his cellmate — a companion of many years. Madness is a terrible thing. It can drive us to betray everyone around us. Sometimes for the most insignificant, or imagined, slights. Who is to know the reasons behind the breaking of a mind?’ And he shrugged.
‘That is a shame, m’lord. I’m sorry you lost so able a fighter. Still, he may be of use to me.’
Hiam scooped up more of his stew. ‘What is it you require?’
The Roolian — Malazan, Hiam corrected himself, and a damned mage — blew out his breath. ‘Oh, a private chamber, shackles, strong aides to help me. And chains, sir. Your strongest chains you use for hauling stone blocks.’
Hiam was rather taken aback by these requests. Still, these he could manage. And, who knows? Perhaps something will come of it. He nodded. ‘Very well. I believe we can pull something together.’ He turned to Section Marshal Learthol. ‘Would you see to it?’
Learthol dabbed his mouth, stood. ‘This way, Adviser, if you please.’
Standing, Ussu straightened his heavy sodden robes and bowed to Hiam. ‘My thanks, Lord Protector.’
Hiam watched the man go, Learthol bowing as he closed the door, and he wondered: had he just made an error? Still, the Lady permitted the man his infringements — she should be the final arbiter, not he.
Ussu worked on his preparations long into the night before, exhausted, falling asleep at the work desk of the chambers provided. The next morning he awoke to hands and feet numb with cold, and frost thick in the corners of the stone chamber. The wind battered the one shuttered window. A servant arrived with an iron brazier stoked with charcoal and a modest meal of bread, goat’s cheese and cold tea.
