Memories of Ice

'That's because Fiddler and Hedge made the damned thing,' the Malazan said. 'In Mott Wood-'

'Who are Fiddler and Hedge?'

'My two sappers, when I was commanding the Ninth Squad. They'd organized one of their notorious card games, using the Deck of Dragons, and needed a surface on which to play it. A hundred fellow Bridgeburners had gathered for the game, despite the fact that we were under constant attack, not to mention bogged down in the middle of a swamp. The game was interrupted by a pitched battle — we were overrun, then driven back, then we retook the position, all of which consumed maybe a bell — and lo, someone had walked off with a two hundred pound table in the meantime! You should have heard the sappers cursing…'

Caladan Brood crossed his arms, still frowning at the table. After a few moments he grunted. 'A donation from the Mott Irregulars. It has served me well — my, uh, compliments to your sappers. I can have it returned-'

'No need, Warlord …' It seemed the Malazan was about to say something more, something important, but then he simply shook his head.

A soft gasp from Silverfox startled the Mhybe. She looked down, brows raised questioningly, but the girl's attention was swinging from the table to Whiskeyjack, then back again, a small smile on her lips. 'Uncle Whiskeyjack,' she said suddenly.

All eyes turned to Silverfox, who blithely continued, 'Those sappers and their games — they cheat, don't they?'

The bearded Malazan scowled. 'Not an accusation I'd recommend you repeat, especially if there's any Bridgeburners around, lass. A lot of coin's gone one way and one way only in those games. Did Fid and Hedge cheat? They made their rules so complicated no-one could tell one way or the other. So, to answer you, I don't know.' His scowl was deepening as he studied Silverfox, as if the man was growing troubled by something.

Something. like a sense of familiarity … Realization dawned within the Mhybe. Of course, he knows nothing about her — about what she is, what she was. It's their first meeting, as far as he's concerned, yet she called him uncle, and more, there's that voice — throaty, knowing … He knows not the child, but the woman she once was.

Everyone waited for Silverfox to say more, to offer explanation. Instead she simply walked up to the table and slowly ran her hand across its battered surface. A fleeting smile crossed her features. Then she pulled close one of the mismatched chairs and sat down.

Brood sighed, gestured to Hurlochel. 'Find us that map of the Pannion Domin territories.'

With the large map laid out, the others slowly gathered round the table. After a moment, Dujek grunted. 'None of our own maps are this detailed,' he said. 'You've noted the locations of various Pannion armies — how recent is this?'

'Three days,' Brood said. 'Crone's cousins are there, tracking movements. The notes referring to the Pannions' means of organization and past tactics have been culled from various sources. As you can see, they're poised to take the city of Capustan. Maurik, Setta and Lest have all fallen within the past four months. The Pannion's forces are still on the south side of the Catlin River, but preparations for the crossing have begun-'

'The Capustan army won't contest that crossing?' Dujek asked. 'If not, then they're virtually inviting a siege. I take it no-one expects Capustan to put up much of a fight.'

'The situation in Capustan is a bit confused,' the warlord explained. 'The city's ruled by a prince and a coalition of High Priests, and the two factions are ever at odds with each other. Problems have been compounded by the prince's hiring a mercenary company to augment his own minimal forces-'

'What company?' Whiskeyjack asked.

'The Grey Swords. Have you heard of them, Commander?'

'No.'

'Nor have I,' Brood said. 'It's said they're up from Elingarth — a decent complement: over seven thousand. Whether they'll prove worthy of the usurious fees they've carved from the prince remains to be seen. Hood knows, their so-called standard contract is almost twice the coin of what the Crimson Guard demands.'

'Their commander read the situation,' Kallor commented, his tone suggesting vast weariness, if not outright boredom. 'Prince Jelarkan has more coin than soldiers, and the Pannions won't be bought off — it's a holy war as far as the Seer's concerned, after all. To worsen matters, the council of High Priests has the backing of each temple's private company of highly trained, well-equipped soldiers. That's almost three thousand of the city's most able fighters, whilst the prince himself has been left with dregs for his own Capanthall — which he's prevented from expanding beyond two thousand by law. For years the Mask Council — the coalition of temples — has been using the Capanthall as a recruiting ground for their own companies, bribing away the best-'

Clearly the Mhybe wasn't alone in suspecting that, given the opportunity, Kallor would have gone on all afternoon, for Whiskeyjack interrupted the man as he drew breath.

'So this Prince Jelarkan circumvented the law by hiring mercenaries.'

'Correct,' was Brood's swift reply. 'In any case, the Mask Council has managed to invoke yet another law, preventing the Grey Swords from active engagement beyond the city walls, so the crossing will not be contested-'

'Idiots,' Dujek growled. 'Given this is a holy war, you'd think the temples would do all they could to effect a united front against the Pannions.'

'I imagine they believe they are,' Kallor answered with a sneer that could have been meant for Dujek or the priests in Capustan, or both. 'While at the same time ensuring that the prince's power remains held in check.'

'It's more complicated than that,' Brood countered. 'The ruler of Maurik capitulated with little bloodshed by arresting all the priests in her city and handing them over to the Pannions' Tenescowri. In one move, she saved her city and its citizens, topped up her royal coffers with booty from the temples and got rid of an eternal thorn in her side. The Pannion Seer granted her a governorship which is better than being torn apart and devoured by the Tenescowri — which is what happened to the priests.'

The Mhybe hissed. 'Torn apart and devoured?'

'Aye,' the warlord said. 'The Tenescowri are the Seer's peasant army — they're fanatics that the Seer doesn't bother supplying. Indeed, he's given them his holy blessing to do whatever is necessary to feed and arm themselves. If certain other rumours are true, then cannibalism is the least of the horrors-'

'We've heard similar rumours,' Dujek muttered. 'So, Warlord, the question before us is, do we seek to save Capustan or let it fall? The Seer must know we're coming — his followers have spread the cult far beyond his borders, in Darujhistan, in Pale, in Saltoan — meaning he knows we will be crossing Catlin River somewhere, somewhen. If he takes Capustan, then the river's widest ford is in his hands. Which leaves us with naught but the old ford west of Saltoan where the stone bridge used to be. Granted, our engineers could float us a bridge there, provided we bring the wood with us. That's the overland option, in any case. We've two others, of course …'

Crone, perched on one end of the table, cackled. 'Listen to him!'

The Mhybe nodded, understanding the Great Raven and experiencing her own amused disbelief.

Dujek scowled down the length of the table at Crone. 'You have a problem, bird?'

'You are the warlord's match indeed! Word for word, you think aloud as he does! Oh, how can one not see the honed edge of poetry in your mutual war of the past twelve years?'

'Be quiet, Crone,' Brood commanded. 'Capustan will be besieged. The Pannions' forces are formidable — we've learned that Septarch Kulpath is commanding the expedition, and he's the ablest of all the Seer's septarchs. He has half the total number of Beklites with him — that's fifty thousand regular infantry — and a division of Urdomen besides the usual support attachments and auxiliary units. Capustan is a small city, but the prince has worked hard on the walls, and the city's layout itself is peculiarly suited to district by district defence. If the Grey Swords don't pull out with the first skirmish, Capustan might hold for a time. None the less …'

'My Black Moranth could land a few companies in the city,' Dujek said, glancing over at the silent Twist, 'but without an explicit invitation to do so, tension could prove problematic.'

Kallor snorted. 'Now that is an understatement. What city on Genabackis would welcome Malazan legions into their midst? More, you'd have to bring your own food — you can be sure of that, High Fist — not to mention face outright hostility if not actual betrayal from the Capan people.'

'It's clear,' Whiskeyjack ventured, 'that we need to establish preliminary contact with Capustan's prince.'

Silverfox giggled, startling everyone. 'All this orchestration, Uncle! You've already set in motion a plan to do