The Crippled God

and to die.

They were stacking Liosan corpses, making a wall across the breach. The contempt of that gesture was as calculated as everything else Yedan did. Rage is the enemy. Beware that, Liosan. He will make your rage your downfall, if he can.

You cannot make my brother angry. He’s not like you. He’s not like any of us. And his army will follow his lead. They will look to him and take inside what he gives. It’s cold. Lifeless. They’ll take it in and it will change them all.

Your army, brother. My people. I can’t win this, but neither can you.

She collected her sword belt from the stump of a felled tree, strapped it on. Settled the helm on her head and fastened the clasp. Tugged on her gauntlets.

Her people took note. They faced her now, and watched as their queen prepared to fight.

But what are they thinking?

Why do they even look to us? My brother? Me? See where our love for them has taken them. See all those limp, lifeless bodies tumbling into the pit.

They watched this calm, silent woman readying for battle.

They didn’t know, of course, about all the howling going on in her head, the anguished screams and the poisoned helplessness eating at every hidden edge. No, they knew nothing about any of that.

She saw her brother. Gesturing, giving orders.

He turned then, and across the distance he faced her.

Should she lift a hand? Acknowledge his achievement? This first triumph? Should she draw her sword, perhaps, and lift it high? Would he respond in kind?

Not a chance. But then, look at me. We see each other, yes, and neither of us does a thing to reach across. How can we? We are co-conspirators in the slaughter of all these people. Yan Tovis turned, found one of her messengers. ‘Aras, deliver the news to Queen Drukorlat. The breach was repelled. Acceptable losses. We await their next attack.’

The young girl bowed and then hurried off, into the forest.

When Twilight looked back down to the strand, her brother was nowhere in sight.

It was now a road, of sorts. The white dust soaked in blood, churned into reddish-brown mud, straight as a spear shaft between Saranas’ Wedding Gate and the Breach. Shivering, Aparal Forge watched the wagons burdened with the wounded drawing closer. To either side of the narrow track the massed legions prepared for the real assault. Heads turned to watch the broken remnants of the Forlorn Hope file past.

Well, that was proof enough, was it not? Kharkanas was occupied once more. The infernal Shake had returned, or someone much like them, and were determined to contest the breach. Madness, all of it. Glancing up, he saw four of the Thirteen still veered, their vast wings flashing gold in the ceaseless light. The Draconean blood had finally taken them, he knew. They had surrendered for ever to the chaos. Among them was Iparth Erule, who had once been a friend. ‘Son of Light,’ he whispered, ‘beware your chosen, now that the blood of the Eleint rises, to drown all that we once were.’

The door behind him swung open, cracking against the stone wall. Aparal flinched, but did not turn round.

‘If you had followed, brother-’

‘But I did, Son of Light.’

Kadagar Fant swore, was suddenly beside Aparal, hands settling on the alabaster merlon. ‘That last pass — we were almost through! See my children still on the wing? Where are the others?’

‘Lord, the Mane of Chaos frightens them. If they surrender to it for too long … Son of Light, you could lose control of them-’

‘When I am veered they well comprehend my power — my domination. What more is needed to bend them to my will? Do you truly believe that I do not understand the nature of the Eleint?’

‘The risk, Lord-’

‘It frightens you, does it, brother?’

‘I fear we might lose control of our own people, Lord, and not through any flaw in our purpose, or leadership. Iparth Erule and his sisters no longer semble. The blood of the Eleint has taken them, it has stolen their minds. When they cease to be Tiste Liosan, how soon before our cause becomes meaningless? How soon before they find their own ambitions?’

Kadagar Fant said nothing for some time. Then he leaned forward over the wall and looked straight down. ‘It has been some time,’ he said in a musing tone, ‘since we last set a traitor upon the White Wall. Brother, do you think my people begin to forget? Must I remind them again?’

Aparal Forge thought about it. ‘If you feel it necessary, Lord.’ He held his gaze on the column crawling towards the Wedding Gate.

‘This is new,’ the Son of Light said.

‘Lord?’

‘I see no answering fear in you, brother.’

The Mane of Chaos, you fool. It devours fear like bloody meat. ‘I am as ever your servant, Lord.’

‘So much so, I now see, that you would risk your own life to speak your mind.’

‘Perhaps.’ As I once did, long ago, when we were different people, not yet who we are now. ‘If so, then I will add this. The day you cease to hear me will be the day that we will have lost.’

Kadagar’s voice was so quiet that Aparal barely made out what he was saying. ‘Are you that important, brother?’

‘I am now, Lord.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I am the last among your people to whom you still listen, Lord. You look down upon this cursed wall and what do you see? Brave warriors who disagreed with you. The rotting remnants of our priesthood-’

Kadagar whispered, ‘They opposed the path of the Eleint.’

‘They did, Lord, and now they are dead. And four of the Thirteen will not return.’

‘I can command them.’

‘As it pleases them to appear loyal, so that shall remain, Lord.’

Veiled eyes lifted to meet his gaze. ‘You draw close, brother Aparal Forge, so very close.’

‘If my counsel is treason, then condemn me, Lord. But you will not see fear, not in me. Not any more and never again.’

Kadagar Fant snarled and then said, ‘There is not time for this. The legions are ready, and I need you down there, commanding the assault. The enemy beyond the breach was surprisingly weak-’

‘Weak, Lord?’

‘I will accept bold words from you, brother, but not outright rudeness.’

‘Sorry, Lord.’

‘Weak. Indeed, it seems they are not even true Shake. Devoid of Tiste blood entirely. It is my thought that they are mercenaries, hired because the Andii now in Kharkanas are too few to personally oppose us. In fact, I now believe that the Shake are no more. Gone, like a nightmare before the dawn.’

‘They fought surprisingly well for mercenaries, Lord.’

‘Humans are like that, brother. Decide on something and there’s no moving them. You have to cut down every last one of them. Until not one is left breathing.’

‘The surest way to win an argument,’ Aparal commented.

Kadagar reached over and gripped his upper arm. ‘Better! Return to the living, old friend! Today, we shall gain the Shore. Tonight, we shall dine in the High Palace of Kharkanas!’

‘Lord, may I descend to take command of the legions?’

‘Go, brother! You shall see me soon enough, flying above you.’

Aparal hesitated. ‘Lord, might I speak one last word of advice?’

Kadagar’s face clouded, but he nodded.

‘Do not be the first of our Thirteen through the breach. Leave that to Iparth Erule, or one of his sisters.’