‘Indeed, master. Shall I proceed? Well, the northern frontier belongs to the Tiste Edur, as do all the coastal cities all the way down to Height and possibly Old Gedure. It is believed the Edur fleets are in the Ouster Sea, opposite Lenth and therefore on the edge of Gedry Bay. From this one must assume they intend to sail up Lether River. Possibly with the aim of arriving in concert with the land armies. It is clear that the Tiste Edur are marching on Letheras and are planning to conquer it and take the throne. Whether this will succeed in triggering the capitulation of the entire kingdom remains to be seen. Personally, I believe it will. Nor do I think the protectorates will go much beyond restlessness. To do otherwise would be suicidal.’
‘If you say so, Bugg. Are the Tiste Edur that formidable, then?’
The manservant ran a hand through his thinning hair, then glanced over at the bodyguard who was standing, silent as ever, near the hatch. ‘Again, master, countless rumours. I would hazard the following observations regarding the Tiste Edur. Their new emperor is in possession of terrible power, but the sorcery the Edur are using does not come from their traditional sources. Not Kurald Emurlahn, although it remains part of their arsenal. In the battles thus far, they have been profligate in their use of shadow wraiths and KenylPrah demons, both of whom are reluctant participants.’
‘Kurald what? Kenyll who? Who’s whispering these rumours anyway?’
‘Ah, that brings me to my third set of observations. Having to do with the dead.’
‘The dead. Of course. Go on, please.’
‘This subcontinent, the region ranging from Tiste Edur lands to the north, Bluerose and Awl’d’an to the east, and Descent and D’aliban to the south – it is a rather peculiar region, master, and has been since, well, since the earliest times. There are, uh, no pathways. For the dead, I mean. For their spirits.’
‘I don’t quite understand you, Bugg,’ Tehol said, rising from the rickety bed and beginning to pace along the rooftop. The bodyguard’s gaze tracked him. ‘The dead are just dead. Ghosts linger because they have nowhere else to go and are disinclined to go sightseeing in any case. What kind of pathways are you talking about?’
‘Into what could be called the Hold of the Dead.’
‘There is no Hold of the Dead.’
‘Which is what has been so… unusual. There should have been. All along. Those of Kolanse, for example, include in their worship a Lord of Death. You will find something similar in the Bolkando kingdom-’
‘The Bolkando kingdom? Bugg, nobody knows
‘Precisely, master. To continue. There was no Hold of the Dead. It once existed. That is, the original Tiles of the Hold from the First Empire contained one. As well as a number of other Holds, all of which have been discarded by and by. It would be nice, indeed, were a scholar to address this strange diminishment. The passage of time in a culture invites elaboration, not simplification, unless some terrible collapse triggers a fall of sorts, but the only trauma Lether has suffered came with the original fall of the First Empire and the subsequent isolation of these colonies. There was, at that time, some degradation, leading to a short period of independent city-states. And then there were wars with the tribes south and east of Kryn, and with the atavistic Andii remnants of Bluerose. But none of that was culturally disturbing. Possibly because the Hold of the Dead could not manifest itself here. In any case, the closing of the pathways for the dead was already a fact, frozen in the very earth of this region. Worse yet, it was all an accident-’
‘Hold on, Bugg. Now I do have some pertinent questions.’
‘Your questions are always pertinent, master.’
‘I know, but these are particularly pertinent.’
‘More so than usual?’
‘Are you suggesting that my normal pertinence is less than particular, Bugg?’
‘Of course not, master. Now, where was I? Oh yes, the accident. In the earliest texts – those that came with the Letherii from the First Empire – there is the occasional mention made of a race called the Jaghut-’
‘There is? You are speaking to a man whose head was filled to bursting with classical education, Bugg. I’ve never heard of these Jaghut.’
‘All right, they were mentioned once, and not specifically by name.’
‘Hah, I knew it. Don’t try any sleight of hand with me.’
‘Sorry, master. In any case, in the most proper sense, the Jaghut are represented by those poorly rendered, stylized images you will find on tiles of the Hold of Ice-’
‘Those frog-like midgets?’
‘Only the green skin survived, alas. The Jaghut were in fact quite tall and not in the least frog-like. The point is, they manifested their sorcery with ice, and cold. It remains common to this day to consider only four principal elements in nature. Air, Earth, Fire and Water. Absolute nonsense, of course.’
‘Of course.’
‘There is Light, Dark, Shadow, Life, Death and Ice. There might even be more, but why quibble? The point I am making, master, is that, long ago, a Jaghut did something to this land. Sealed it, in a manner of speaking. Using its aspected sorcery. The effect was profound.’
‘Making the pathways of the dead snowbound, like a mountain pass in winter?’
‘Something like that, yes.’
‘So the dead loiter in Lether. Ghosts, shades, and people like Shurq Elalle and Kettle.’
‘Indeed. But that is all changing.’
Tehol ceased his pacing and faced Bugg. ‘It is?’
‘Alas, yes, master. The sorcery is… thawing. A Hold of the Dead is manifesting itself. The situation is unravelling. Quickly.’
‘Does this mean Shurq is in trouble?’
‘No. I suspect the curse on her will remain. But the initial efficacy of that curse derives from the fact of the Hold’s having been non-existent in the first place.’
‘All right. It’s all unravelling. Have you visited Kettle lately?’
‘Interesting you should ask, master, for it is at the site of the now-dead Azath tower that the Hold of the Dead is manifesting itself. From that, one might conclude that Kettle is somehow connected with the entire event, but she isn’t. In fact, she’s no longer dead. Not as dead as she was, that is. It is now clear that her purpose is… otherwise. As you know, there’s trouble coming from the barrows.’
‘What’s that smoke? Over there.’
Bugg squinted. ‘Another riot, I think. Counters’ Quarter.’
‘Well, they’ve been a little skittish ever since the ghosts stormed the Tolls Repository. Besides which, the Tolls themselves have been tumbling with all the bad news from the north. In fact, I’m surprised it’s taken this long.’
They could hear bells now, as the city’s garrison began responding to the alarm from various stations near the area.
‘That won’t last long,’ Bugg predicted.
‘Yes, but I am reminded of something,’ Tehol said. ‘The time has come, I think, to see Shand, Hejun and Rissarh on their way.’
‘Will they complain?’
‘Less than one might expect. This is a nervous city. The few non-Letherii remaining are being subjected to harassment, and not just by citizens. The authorities are showing their racist underpinnings with all these suspicions and the eagerness to tread over hard-won rights.’
‘Proof that the freedoms once accorded non-Letherii peoples were born of both paternalism and a self-serving posturing as a benign overseer. What is given is taken away, just like that.’
‘Indeed, Bugg. Is it because, do you think, at the human core, we are naught but liars and cheats?’
‘Probably.’
‘With no hope of ever overcoming our instinctive nastiness?’
‘Hard to say. How have we done so far?’
‘That’s not fair. Oh, fine, it’s perfectly fair. But it doesn’t bode well, does it?’
‘Few things do, master.’
‘Well, this is uncharacteristically glum of you, Bugg.’
