Memories of Ice

The sergeant arrived, settled down in front of them. Picker handed him a flask and he took it, swallowed a half-dozen mouthfuls of wine, handed it back. Antsy cleared both nostrils with explosive snorts, then wiped his moustache and spent another few moments grooming and patting it down.

'If you start washing your armpits next,' Paran warned, 'I'll kill you. Once I get over the nausea, that is. So you've visited Setta — what did you see, Sergeant?'

'Uh, yes, sir, Captain. Setta. A ghost city, damned eerie. All those empty streets, empty buildings, feast- piles-'

'Feast what?'

'Feast-piles. In the squares. Big mounds of burnt bone and ash. Human. Feast-piles. Oh, and huge birds' nests on the city's four towers — Blend climbed close to one.'

'She did?'

'Well, closer, anyway. We'd noticed the guano on the tower sides when the sun's light was still clinging up high. Anyway, there's those mountain vultures bedded down in them.'

Quick Ben cursed. 'And Blend's sure she wasn't seen?'

'Absolutely, Wizard. You know Blend. We kept to blocking lines of sight just in case, which wasn't easy — those towers were well placed. But those birds had bedded down for real.'

'See any Great Ravens?' Quick Ben enquired.

The sergeant blinked. 'No. Why?'

'Nothing. But the rule holds — trust nothing in the sky, Antsy. Be sure everyone knows and remembers that, right?'

'Aye, as you say, Wizard.'

'Anything else?' Paran asked.

Antsy shrugged. 'No, not a thing. Setta's dead as dead gets. Maurik's probably the same.'

'Never mind Maurik,' Paran said. 'We're bypassing Maurik.'

He had Picker's fullest attention with that. 'Just us, Captain?'

'We're flying point all the way,' Quick Ben answered.

Antsy growled something under his breath.

'Speak clearly, Sergeant,' Paran ordered.

'Nothing, sir.'

'Let's have it, Antsy.'

'Well, just Hedge and Spindle and the other sappers, Captain. Been complaining about that missing crate of munitions — they were expecting to get resupplied, at Maurik. They'll squeal, sir.'

Picker saw Paran glance at Quick Ben.

The wizard scowled. 'I forgot to have a word with Hedge. Sorry. I'll get right on it.'

'The thing is,' Antsy said, 'we're undersupplied and that's the truth of it. If we run into trouble …'

'Really, Sergeant,' Picker muttered. 'When you've burned the bridges behind you, don't go starting a fire on the one in front of you. Tell those sappers to stiffen their spines. If we get into a situation where the fifteen or so available cussers and thirty or forty sharpers aren't enough, we're just one more feast-pile anyway.'

'Chat's over,' Paran announced. 'Quick, get the Moranth ready — we're making one more jump tonight. I want us within sight of the River Eryn come the dawn. Picker, check the cairns one more time, please. I don't want them obvious — we give ourselves away now and things'll get hot.'

'Aye, sir.'

'All right, let's move.'

He watched as his soldiers scrambled. A few moments later he sensed a presence and turned. The Black Moranth commander, Twist, had come to stand beside him.

'Captain Paran.'

'Yes?'

'I would know if you blessed the Barghast gods. In Capustan, or perhaps thereafter.'

Paran frowned. 'I was warned that they might ask, but no, I've not been approached.'

The black-armoured warrior was silent for a moment, then he said, 'Yet you acknowledge their place in the pantheon.'

'I don't see why not.'

'Is that a yes, Captain?'

'All right. Yes. Why? What's wrong?'

'Nothing is wrong. I will die soon, and I wish to know what will await my soul.'

'Have the Barghast shouldermen finally acknowledged that the Moranth share the same blood?'

'Their pronouncements one way or the other are without relevance.'

'Yet mine are?'

'You are the Master of the Deck.'

'What caused the schism, Twist? Between the Moranth and the Barghast?'

The achievant slowly raised his withered arm. 'Perhaps, in another realm, this arm is hale, whilst the rest of me is shrunken and lifeless. Perhaps,' he went on, 'it already feels the clasp, firm and strong, of a spirit. Who now but waits for my complete passage into that world.'

'An interesting way of viewing it.'

'Perspective, Captain. The Barghast would see us withered and lifeless. To be cut away.'

'While you see it the other way round?'

Twist shrugged. 'We do not fear change. We do not resist it. The Barghast must accept that growth is necessary, even if painful. They must learn what the Moranth learned long ago, when we did not draw our swords and instead spoke with the Tiste Edur — the grey-skinned wanderers of the seas. Spoke, to discover they were as lost as we were, as weary of war, as ready for peace.'

'Tiste Edur?'

'Children of the Shattered Warren. A fragment had been discovered, in the vast forest of Moranth that would become our new homeland. Kurald Emurlahn, the true face of Shadow. There were so few Tiste Edur left, we chose to welcome them. The last of them are gone now, from Moranth Wood, long gone, but their legacy is what has made us as we are.'

'Achievant, it may take me a while to make sense of what you've just described. I have questions-'

Twist shrugged again. 'We did not slay the Tiste Edur. In Barghast eyes, that is our greatest crime. I wonder, however, if the Elder Spirits — now gods — see it in similar light.'

'They've had a long time to think,' Paran murmured. 'Sometimes, that's all that's needed. The heart of wisdom is tolerance. I think.'

'If so, Captain, then you must be proud.'

'Proud?'

The achievant slowly turned away as soft calls announced the troop was ready. 'I now return to Dujek Onearm.' He paused, then added, 'The Malazan Empire is a wise empire. I think that rare, and precious. And so I wish it — and you — well.'

Paran watched Twist stride away.

It was time to go.

Tolerant, Maybe. Keep that word in mind, Ganoes — there's a whisper that it will prove the fulcrum in what's to come …

Kruppe's mule carried him swiftly up the embankment, through a press of marching marines on the road — who scattered from its path — then down the other side and out onto the plain. Shouts and helpful advice followed him.

'Brainless beast! Blind, stubborn, braying creature of the Abyss! Stop, Kruppe cries! Stop! No, not that way-'

The mule charged a tilting path back round, fast-trotted smartly for the nearest clan of White Face Barghast.

A dozen savagely painted children raced out to meet them.

The mule baulked in sudden alarm, pitching Kruppe forward onto its neck. The animal then wheeled, and slowed to a placid walk, tail switching its rump.