He snorted. 'No, not me, Scillara. It seems I follow another god.'
'It seems?'
She could just make out his shrug. 'You fall into things,' he said.
A woman. Well, that explains a lot. 'As good a reason as any other,' she said behind a lungful of smoke.
'What do you mean?'
'I mean, I don't see much reason behind following any god or goddess.
If you're worth their interest, they use you. I know about being used, and most of the rewards are anything but, even if they look good at the time.'
'Well,' he said after a moment, 'someone's rewarded you.'
'Is that what you call it?'
'Call what? You're looking so… healthy. Full of life, I mean. And you're not as skinny as before.' He paused, then hastily added, 'Which is good. Half-starved didn't suit you – doesn't suit anyone, of course. You, included. Anyway, that's all.'
She sat, smoking, watching him in the growing light. 'We are quite a burden to you, aren't we, Cutter?'
'No! Not at all! I'm to escort you, a task I happily accepted. And that hasn't changed.'
'Don't you think Greyfrog is sufficient to protect us?'
'No, I mean, yes, he probably is. Even so, he is a demon, and that complicates things – it's not as if he can just amble into a village or city, is it? Or negotiate supplies and passage or stuff like that.'
'Felisin can. So can I, in fact.'
'Well. You're saying you don't want me here?'
'I'm saying we don't need you. Which isn't the same as saying we don't want you, Cutter. Besides, you've done well leading this odd little company, although it's obvious you're not used to doing that.'
'Listen, if you want to take over, that's fine by me.'
Ah, a woman who wouldn't follow, then. 'I see no reason to change anything,' she said offhandedly.
He was staring at her as she in turn regarded him, her gaze as level and as unperturbed as she could manage. 'What is the point of all this?' he demanded.
'Point? No point. Just making conversation, Cutter. Unless… is there something in particular you would like to talk about?'
She watched him pull back in every way but physically, as he said, '
No, nothing.'
'You don't know me well enough, then, is that it? Well, we'll have plenty of time.'
'I know you… I think. I mean, oh, you're right, I don't know you at all. I don't know women, is what I really mean. And how could I? It's impossible, trying to follow your thoughts, trying to make sense out of what you say, what is hidden behind your words-'
'Would that be me, specifically, or women in general?'
He threw more dung on the fire. 'No,' he muttered, 'nothing in particular I'd like to talk about.'
'All right, but I have a few topics…'
He groaned.
'You were given the task,' she said. 'To escort us, correct? Who gave you that task?'
'A god.'
'But not Heboric's god.'
'No.'
'So there's at least two gods interested in us. That's not good, Cutter. Does Ghost Hands know about this? No, he wouldn't, would he?
No reason to tell him-'
'It's not hard to figure out,' Cutter retorted. 'I was waiting for you. In Iskaral Pust's temple.'
'Malazan gods. Shadowthrone or Cotillion. But you're not Malazan, are you?'
'Really, Scillara,' Cutter said wearily, 'do we have to discuss this right now?'
'Unless,' she went on, 'your lover was. Malazan, that is. The original follower of those gods.'
'Oh, my head hurts,' he mumbled, hands up over his eyes, the fingers reaching into his hair, then clenching as if to begin tearing it out.
'How – no, I don't want to know. It doesn't matter. I don't care.'
'So where is she now?'
'No more.'
Scillara subsided. She pulled out a narrow-bladed knife and began cleaning her pipe.
He suddenly rose. 'I'll start on breakfast.'
A sweet boy, she decided. Like damp clay in a woman's hands. A woman who knew what she was doing, that is.
Now the question is, should I be doing this? Felisin adored Cutter, after all. Then again, we could always share.
'Smirking observation. Soft-curved, large-breasted woman wants to press flesh with Cutter.'
Not now, Greyfrog, he replied without speaking aloud as he removed food from the pack.
'Alarm. No, not now indeed. The others are wakening from their uneasy dreams. Awkward and dismay to follow, especially with Felisin Younger.'
Cutter paused. What? Why – but she's barely of age! No, this can't be.
Talk her out of it, Greyfrog! 'Greyfrog's own advances unwelcome. Despondent sulk. You, Cutter, of seed- issuing capacity, capable of effecting beget. Past revelation.
Human women carry breeding pond in bellies. But one egg survives, only one. Terrible risk! You must fill pond as quickly as possible, before rival male appears to steal your destiny. Greyfrog will defend your claim. Brave self- sacrifice, such as Sentinel Circlers among own kind.
Altruistic enlightenment of reciprocity and protracted slant reward once or even many times removed. Signifier of higher intelligence, acknowledgement of community interests. Greyfrog is already Sentinel Circler to soft-curved, large-breasted goddess-human.'
Goddess? What do you mean, goddess? 'Lustful sigh, is worthy of worship. Value signifiers in male human clouding the pond's waters in Greyfrog's mind. Too long association.
Happily. Sexual desires long withheld. Unhealthy.'
Cutter set a pot of water on the fire and tossed in a handful of herbs. What did you say earlier about uneasy dreams, Greyfrog? 'Observation, skimming the mind ponds. Troubled. Approaching danger.
There are warning signs.'
What warning signs? 'Obvious. Uneasy dreams. Sufficient unto themselves.'
Not always, Greyfrog. Sometimes it's things from the past that haunt us. That's all.
'Ah. Greyfrog will think on this. But first, pangs. Greyfrog is hungry.'
The grey haze of the heat and the dust made the distant walls barely visible. Leoman of the Flails rode at the head of the ragged column, Corabb Bhilan Thenu'alas at his side, as a company of riders approached from Y'Ghatan's gates.
'There,' Corabb said, 'front rider on the right of the standardbearer, that is Falah'd Vedor. He looks… unhappy.'
'He'd best begin making peace with that sentiment,' Leoman said in a growl. He raised a gloved hand and the column behind him slowed to a halt.
They watched the company close.
'Commander, shall you and I meet them halfway?' Corabb asked.
'Of course not,' Leoman snapped.
Corabb said nothing more. His leader was in a dark mood. A third of his warriors were riding double. A much-
