track that angled northerly towards Almas, a modest town distinguished only by its garrison and stables, where Atri-Preda Yan Tovis, Varat Taun and their Letherii company could rest, resupply and requisition fresh mounts.
Varat Taun knew flight when he saw it, when he found himself part of it. Away from Letheras, where, a day before their departure, the palace and barracks seemed caught in a rising storm of tension, the smell of blood heady in the air, a thousand rumours cavorting in all directions but none of them possessing much substance, beyond news relating the casting out of two families, the widows and children of two men who had been the Chancellor’s bodyguards, and who were clearly no longer among the living.
Had someone tried to assassinate Triban Gnol? He’d wondered that out loud early in this journey and his commander had simply grunted, as if nothing in the notion surprised or even alarmed her. Of course she knew more than she was letting on, but Twilight had never been free with her words.
Nor am I, it turns out. The horrors of what I witnessed in that cavern-no, nothing 1 can say could possibly convey the… the sheer extremity of the truth. So best leave it. The ones who will witness will not live long past the experience. What then will remain of the empire?
And is this not why we are running away?
A foreigner rode with them. A Mocker, Yan Tovis had said, whatever that meant. A monk of some sort. With the painted face of a cavorting mummer-what mad religion is that? Varat Taun could not recall the strange little man saying a word-perhaps he was mute, perhaps his tongue had been cut out. Cultists did terrible things to themselves. The journey across the seas and oceans of the world had provided a seemingly endless pageantry of bizarre cultures and customs. No amount of self-mutilation in misguided service to some god would surprise Varat Taun. The Mocker had been among the challengers, but the absurdity of this was now obvious-after the first day of riding he had been exhausted, reeling in the saddle. He was, evidently, a healer.
Who healed me. Who guided me out from the terror and confusion. I have spoken my gratitude, but he just nodded. Did he witness the visions in my mind? Is he now struck mute, his very sanity under siege? In any case, he was no challenger to the Emperor, and that was why he now rode beside Yan Tovis, although what value she placed in this Mocker escaped the lieutenant.
Perhaps it’s no different from how she views me. I ride in this company in an act of mercy. Soon to be sent to a posting in my home city. To be with my wife and my child. Twilight is not thinking as an Atri-Preda-not even her duty as a soldier was enough to compel her to report what she had learned to her superiors.
But this is not the first time, is it? Why should I be surprised? She surrendered Pent Reach to the Edur, didn’t she? No battle, they just opened the gates.
‘Clearly, she loves the Edur so much she can go with them, to take command of the Letherii forces in the fleets.’ So went the argument, dry and mocking.
The truth may be that Yan Tovis is a coward.
Varat Taun did not like that thought, even as it now hounded him. He reminded himself of the battles, the skirmishes, both on water and ashore, where there had been nothing-not a single moment-when he had been given cause to doubt her courage.
Yet here, now, she was fleeing Letheras with her elite company.
Because 1 confirmed that Gral’s claims. Besides, would 1 will’ ingly stand beside Icarium again7. No, not at his side, not in the same city, preferably not on the same damned continent. Does that make me a coward as well?
There had been a child, in that cavern, a strange thing, more imp than human. And it had managed what no- one else could-taking down Icarium, stealing away his rage and all the power that came with it. Varat Taun did not think there would be another such intervention. The defenders of the First Throne had possessed allies. The Emperor in Gold could not but refuse the same. There would be no-one there to stop Icarium. No-one but Rhulad himself, which was of course possible.
It is our lack of faith in our Emperor that has set us on this road.
But what if neither one will fall? What if Icarium finds himself killing Rhulad again and again? Ten times, fifty, a hundred-ten thousand? An endless succession of battles, obliterating all else. Could we not see the end of the world?
Icarium cannot yield. Rhulad will not. They will share that inevitability. And they will share the madness that comes of it.
Bluerose would not be far enough away. No place will.
He had left behind the one man who understood what was coming better than anyone else. The barbarian. Who wore a heavy hood to hide his features when among strangers. Who spat on his hands to smooth back his hair. Who greeted each and every dawn with a litany of curses against all who had wronged him. Yet, now, 1 see him in my mind as if looking upon a brother.
He and 1 alone survived. Together, we brought Icarium out.
His thoughts had brought him to this moment, this conflation of revelations, and he felt his heart grow cold in his chest. Varat Taun pushed his horse to a greater pace, until he came up alongside his commander. Atri- Preda.’
She looked across at him.
‘1 must go back,’ he said.
‘To warn them?’
‘No, sir.’
‘What of your family, Varat Taun?’
He glanced away. ‘I have realized something. Nowhere is far enough.’
‘I see. Then, would you not wish to be at her side?’
‘Knowing I cannot save them…’ Varat shook his head. ‘The Gral and I-together-I don’t know, perhaps we can do something-if we’re there.’
‘Can I talk you out of this?’
He shook his head.
‘Very well. Errant’s blessing on you, Varat Taun.’
‘He is right,’ said the Mocker behind them. ‘I too must return.’
A heavy sigh gusted from Yan Tovis. ‘So be it-I should have known better than to try to save anyone but myself-no, I’m not as bitter as that sounded. My apologies. You both have my blessing. Be sure to walk those horses on occasion, however.’
‘Yes sir. Atri-Preda? Thank you.’
‘What word do I send to your wife?’
‘None, sir. Please.’
Yan Tovis nodded.
Varat Taun guided his mount off the road, reining in. The monk followed suited, somewhat more awkwardly. The lieutenant watched in some amusement. ‘You have no horses in your lands?’
‘Few. Cabal is an archipelago for the most part. The mainland holdings are on the sides of rather sheer cliffs, a stretch of coast that is severely mountainous. And what horses we do have are bred for labour and food.’
To that, Varat Taun said nothing.
They waited on the side of the track, watching the column of mounted soldiers ride past.
Errant take me, what have 1 done? * * *
The lake stretched on with no end in sight. The three figures had rowed their well-provisioned boat for what passed for a day and most of a night in the Shadow Realm, before the craft ran aground in shallows. Unable to find a way past, they had shouldered the packs and disembarked, wading in silty, knee-deep water. Now, midway through the next day, they dragged exhausted, numbed legs through a calm lake that had been no deeper than their hips since dawn-until they reached a sudden drop-off.
Trull Sengar had been in the lead, using his spear to probe the waters ahead, and now he moved to one side, step by step, the butt of the weapon stirring the grey, milky silts along the edge. He continued on for a time, watched by his companions. ‘Doesn’t feel natural,’ he finally said, making his way back to the others. ‘The drop- away is smooth, even.’ Moving past Onrack and Quick Ben, he resumed probing the ledge in the opposite direction. ‘No change here.’
The wizard voiced a long, elaborate string of curses in his Malazan tongue, then said, ‘I could take to the air,
