The Malazan Empire Series, page 354
Fisher glanced over. Enguf and a handful of his crew were sauntering up.
‘What’s all this?’ the Genabackan called out.
The scouts all winced. The veterans hung their heads.
‘Quiet,’ Teal hissed.
‘What’s that?’ the man shouted back. ‘What?’
Fisher could swear veins were writhing in the Letherii commander’s temples. Through clenched teeth he grated, ‘Quiet.’
Enguf was now close enough to hear and he nodded. ‘Ah! Quiet. Very well. May I ask why?’
Teal was pressing his fingertips to his brow, his head lowered.
‘The scouts think they saw a bridge down the trail here,’ one of Malle’s old veterans said. ‘But the clouds closed in on us so we can’t be sure. Why don’t you take your boys down and have a look?’
Fisher glared at the man, but the rest of the veterans were grinning. One had a strip of dried meat held in his teeth. Sucking on it to soften it, Fisher knew.
‘No thank you,’ Enguf answered. ‘We’re happy where we are.’
It was good to know that the Genabackan wasn’t a complete fool.
‘You Malazans go down under cover of these clouds,’ Teal said, raising his head. ‘Reconnoitre.’
The four veterans exchanged slow looks. ‘Don’t think so,’ answered the one who’d spoken earlier.
Teal studied the man for a moment. ‘You don’t…’ He drew a breath. ‘Go down and reconnoitre … soldier.’
The Malazan’s stare was steady. Then he gave a small shrug of his rounded shoulders. ‘I don’t take orders from you.’
Teal appeared ready to bring the rocks down around them excoriating the man, so Fisher jumped in, saying, ‘What’s your name, soldier?’
The man’s gaze swung to him. It was half-lidded, distant, the eyes a pale hazel. Fisher recognized the loose watchfulness of someone poised to kill at any moment. Not your usual veteran. A trained bodyguard, perhaps? But field experienced, obviously.
‘Stub,’ the man said. ‘Sergeant Stub.’
Teal nodded brusquely. ‘Thank you, Fisher.’ To the sergeant, he said: ‘I will have a word with your employer regarding your insubordination, soldier. You can be sure of that.’
The man actually gave Teal a wink, saying, ‘You do that.’
But irony appeared lost on Teal, who merely nodded, indicating that he most certainly would.
There seemed to be an impasse, as none of the three parties was willing to risk men on the steep twisting trail down to the hidden defile below. Fisher blew on his hands to warm them; his homeland’s chill cut deeper than any he’d encountered elsewhere. It struck him that one man might sneak down whereas a full party would make too much noise.
‘I will go,’ he said.
Teal’s quick nod of acceptance seemed to say it was about time he did something useful. The veteran, Stub, frowned, either displeased or uneasy, Fisher wasn’t certain which. He started down the trail-head. It was extraordinarily steep; to keep from falling he had to lean into the slope, running his hands along the rock as he descended. Gusting curtains of snow obscured the bottom. The sky was iron-grey, the rock slate-hued, or black with melt and ice, while the snow seemed to swallow everything down its swirling leaden throat.
After many switchbacks, he stepped out on to a relatively flat ledge. It was wide and deep. He thought he could make out a structure of sorts at its far end and was about to step towards it when movement in the corner of his eye snapped him round, sword out.
It was Jethiss. Fisher let out a breath, sheathed his sword. ‘You needn’t have come,’ he whispered.
‘I could not let you go alone.’
‘You are very quiet.’
‘Thank you.’
Fisher gestured ahead. ‘What do you sense?’
The Andii’s long-jawed face hardened in distaste. The contrary gusting winds whipped his white-streaked hair. ‘Something terrible. A crime.’
Fisher nodded his agreement. They spread apart and advanced. The structure emerged from the flurries: tall and thin, the landing or buttress of a bridge that went on to span the defile ahead. The bridge, however, was not a suspended arc of rope and wood, as Fisher expected. It was the trellis sort, one that descended in segments all the way down into the darkness where, presumably, it rested upon the uneven ground below.
He heard a grunt from Jethiss at his side, a gut-punched exhalation of shock, or revulsion, and the man stopped advancing. A few steps later the bridge resolved clearly in his vision and he halted, stunned. The whole thing, the tower buttress, the bed, the trellis supporting structure, was built entirely of bones.
Not an exaggeration then, he mused. Nor poetic metaphor. The majority of the upper segments appeared to be built of thinner, less robust bones, while the lower he cast his eye down the immense edifice the thicker and heavier became the bones. Some seemed even gigantic, though the scale was difficult to make out. He was curious as to how they were all attached, or woven together, as it were, but he did not wish to approach any closer.
They backed away. At the base of the trail they found the four veterans, including Sergeant Stub. Fisher sent him an arched brow. The man raised his eyes to the sky. ‘Couldn’t let you do m’damned work.’ He gestured ahead. ‘So? What is it?’
‘It is a bridge,’ Fisher allowed. ‘Made of bones.’
‘Hunh,’ the man grunted. ‘That’s not you bein’ all bardish, is it?’
‘No. Sadly not.’
‘Well. Ain’t that a curiosity, then.’
‘It is a perversion,’ Jethiss supplied, his voice hard.
Fisher was surprised by the man’s vehemence. He might be without conscious memories, but this artefact seemed to have touched him. It outraged something deep within him. Through slit eyes the sergeant studied the Andii for a time. He rubbed his thumb over his scarred chin. Then he motioned his companions forward. ‘Take a look-see.’ Before they could obey, tumbling gravel and rocks announced the arrival of Teal and the van of his force.
‘Afraid we found a copper sliver and he won’t get his share,’ Stub murmured to Fisher, who answered with a quick grin.
‘What is it?’ Teal demanded.
‘It really is a bridge of bone,’ Fisher said.
‘Sounds unsteady,’ the marshal remarked, as if its engineering was the only question of relevance. Holden and Alca arrived, slipping and sliding down the sheer trail.
‘This stinks of Elder magic,’ the ex-cadre mage warned, short of breath.
‘I will examine it,’ Alca said.
Holden thrust an arm out before her. ‘Don’t be a fool!’
‘We should go around,’ Fisher said.
‘And how many weeks would that cost us?’ Teal answered impatiently.
‘Thought you’d be all cat-curious,’ Stub said to Fisher, grinning.
Jethiss suddenly spoke over everyone: ‘You are all in great danger here. You should all leave.’
Stub and Teal examined the man as if questioning his sanity. Teal arched a brow. ‘Thank you for the valuable insight.’ He gestured, inviting Stub forward. ‘Shall we look?’
The sergeant shrugged once more. ‘I’ll take a peek.’
The party edged forward together, the Letherii and Malazans drawing swords or readying crossbows and bows. Fisher heard Malle descending the trail on her donkey, along with Enguf and his party. He advanced with the soldiers through the gusting snow until the edifice resolved into view once more. The soldiers grunted or swore as they made out the grisly details of its construction. It seemed to Fisher that the snowstorm was thinning. He could see further down into the defile, which was far indeed.
The mages snarled warnings then, leaping back. Jethiss pulled Fisher by the arm. The soldiers shuffled backwards. The very ground they stood upon was heaving. Bones of every sort and description were pushing their way up through the dirt and gravel: animal scapulae, pelvises and femurs, all sturdy and large; dirty human bones still holding tatters of ligaments, these mostly the long limb bones of femur, humerus, and tibia. Mixed in among them all came enormous bones to which Fisher could not put a name: the remains of giants, he wondered, or perhaps dragons. Bones as tall as he and as thick around as his torso.
The macabre collection slid and grated together into a heap before the entrance to the bridge. As the parties continued to retreat, the bones assembled themselves before their eyes into a gruesome skeleton of gigantic size that reared fully some four man-heights above them.
Its legs were built of the most massive of the remains, the dragon or elephant bones. Its pelvis was constructed of many such pelvises, lashed and articulated by slithering ligament and tendon. Its ribs might have been those of the fearsome sea-behemoths, so massive was their arch. Its spine was a pile of segments, any one of which was probably as large as Fisher’s own pelvis. The flat blades of its scapulae were constructed of many taken from elk or similar giant ungulates. The longest of the bones banged and scraped together to build its arms, the reach of which made Fisher despair. It had them all easily within its sweep.
Yet Fisher saw no skull of any kind. Was it headless? Or the skull yet to be assembled? The hands, constructed of the lesser human bones, now clutched and flexed. They swung down, digging into the ground, working and probing. When they emerged, throwing up a great swathe of dirt and gravel that everyone raised their arms against as it came pattering and clattering down, they held an immense object that rained more dirt and mud. The creature set it upon its own shoulders. As the dirt fell away, Fisher made out the elongated muzzle and fleshless grin of a dragon skull.
Cold intelligence regarded them through the empty dark sockets. No one, Fisher noted, had run; all had understood that the creature had them within its reach. All gripped weapons, were hunched for battle. The Malazan veterans had even readied their broad heavy-infantry shields.
All except Jethiss, who stood with arms crossed, an expression upon his face that Fisher could only interpret as disgust.
‘Pay the price,’ the creature boomed in a voice that brought rocks tumbling down the trail, ‘and you may pass.’
The Cawn mage Holden stepped forward. Fisher had to give the ex-cadre mage his due: the man was damned brave. ‘What is your price?’
‘One in three must give his bones.’
Malle, just behind Fisher, let her breath out in a furious hiss. ‘This is not to be borne,’ she murmured.
‘And if we merely turn round?’ Holden asked.
‘Fight or flee, the bones of all will stay behind.’
‘A steep price then,’ Teal whispered to Malle. ‘But better than…’ He tailed off, because Jethiss had stepped forward.
‘What is your name?’ the Andii demanded.
Teal glared at Fisher. ‘Shut that damned fool up before he gets us all killed!’
The giant’s dragon skull turned to examine Jethiss. ‘You ask my name,’ it boomed. ‘You who do not even know your own.’
Fisher could have sworn that Jethiss literally jumped into the air at that. His arms fell to his sides, his hands clutched. He edged even closer to the creature. ‘Give me my name.’
The dark empty sockets regarded him steadily. Fisher thought he glimpsed dark blue-black flames flickering within. ‘I will strike a bargain with thee, child of the Andii.’ Its voice growled and rolled, and struck echoes from deep within the defile below. ‘Give me your bones and all others may keep theirs.’
‘And my name?’
‘That you shall have – for a time.’
Fisher lunged forward. ‘No!’
‘Done,’ Jethiss called out, sweeping a hand to seal the bargain.
Fisher gripped his arm. ‘Are you a fool? What have you done?’
The man offered a crooked smile. ‘I have bought my name – at a fair price.’
‘At the price of your life!’
‘At the price of saving near twenty.’
Fisher released him, let out a ragged breath. ‘Well, yes. But still…’
‘All must pass now!’ the creature boomed. ‘Go!’
Marshal Teal approached, inclined his head to Jethiss. He regarded him for a time as if searching for the right words, then said, ‘You may not believe me when I say this … but I understand what you are doing. We in Lether believe that everything has a price, but we are not fools. We understand that the most important things are paid for with blood. And so I salute you. You have found something more precious than life … I can only hope to find a thing so precious myself one day.’ And he bowed again, then waved his guard forward.
Malle came next – on foot. One of her guards led her mount. She studied Jethiss closely, peering sharply at him. ‘This is distasteful to me,’ she said. ‘Especially when,’ and she leaned forward, lowering her voice, ‘as you fighting men say, I believe we could have taken him.’
Jethiss smiled again. ‘At the price of many more than twenty, I should think.’
Her mouth remained a tight slash. ‘Still, I do not like it.’ She shook her head, cast a quick glance to the creature, which had raised its notched skull and now stared into the distance, seemingly paying no attention, and whispered, ‘Remember your ancestry.’ She bowed, and moved away. Her Malazan guard of veterans followed. Every one of them saluted.
Enguf came last. He was rubbing the back of his neck and looking quite sheepish. ‘A third of my lads and lasses thank you heartily. I tell you, they were all for running off. But now … well. We can hardly do that, hey?’ The man obviously wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words. Finally, tears in his eyes, he lunged forward and enveloped the much taller Andii in a great hug, thumping him on the back. Releasing him, he growled, ‘I hope you find what you’re looking for, man. I truly do.’ He waved his Genabackan crew onward. Some of these, when they passed, just stared at Jethiss as if they thought him touched.
Then Fisher was alone with him. Jethiss gently urged him onward. ‘Go on. Go with my blessings. You saved me. Brought me to my name. You have my thanks.’
Fisher found himself shaking his head. ‘I’m not going.’
The Andii frowned. A touch of anger hardened his face. ‘Now who is playing the fool…’
Above them, the giant was stirring. Its titanic skull was lowering to regard them. Fisher leaned close to Jethiss. ‘You see … I too would like to know your name.’
Then the gigantic bone hands swept in and closed upon them, sweeping them off their feet and swinging them into the air, and Fisher screamed his surprise and terror as the creature took one great leap into the defile.
* * *
It thrust them into a cave that opened directly on to the sheer cliff. Fisher could see no way down as he was pushed within. The hands released them to fall to a rocky floor.
‘My name!’ Jethiss yelled into the absolute night surrounding them.
The rumbling voice echoed back, mocking. ‘I did not say when you would have it.’ Then Fisher sensed they were alone in the inky black.
‘I am sorry,’ Jethiss said from off to one side.
‘It’s all right. We still have our bones.’
‘For a time,’ Jethiss agreed.
Fisher felt at his back then, alarmed. He whipped the idum from where he’d slung it and gingerly felt along its wrapped length to find that the neck was broken. ‘Damn.’
‘What is it?’
‘Broke my neck.’
‘Your neck!’
Fisher snorted a laugh. ‘Sorry – the neck of my instrument.’
‘Oh.’
A hand clasped Fisher’s arm and helped him upright. ‘You can see?’ Fisher marvelled.
‘I see fine. Why?’
‘I cannot. Although…’ He squinted in one direction. ‘I believe I see some sort of a glow off that way. A fire?’
After a moment Jethiss answered, ‘I see it as well.’ The hand pulled lightly. ‘I will guide you.’
Fisher shifted the hand to his elbow. ‘There.’
‘Ah. I see.’
It couldn’t have been that far, but the walk seemed excruciatingly long to Fisher. He lost count of the number of times he barked his shins on rocks, or twisted his ankles on the uneven cave floor. At times Jethiss had him duck under low-hanging formations or ledges. Eventually, as they neared the fire, he could see better and better, and finally he eased free of the Andii’s hand.
They came to a very modest little fire that gave hardly any light or heat. It appeared to be built of old dry roots and other such burnable trash. In the utter black of the cave, however, it felt wonderful to Fisher. He knelt to warm his hands at it.
Jethiss breathed a low warning: ‘We are not alone.’
Fisher straightened.
Two figures came emerging from the murk. Twins they appeared, so alike were they, both in rough torn leathers, both squat with extraordinarily burly muscular builds, like wrestlers, and both as hairy as bears. One was mostly bald, with gold earrings; the other sported a great massed curly nest about his head. Twigs rode in their thick black and russet beards. Long-knives and hatchets were tucked into their leather belts.
For a time they stared at each other, wordless. Then the massively haired one struck the bald one in the chest, saying, ‘It’s that songster, Fisher. Hey, Fish. Remember us?’
Fisher squinted. He knew the accent. It was a northerner’s … ‘I’m sorry … I don’t…’
The hairy one thumped his companion in his massive chest again, once more raising a cloud of dust. ‘It’s us! Badlands and Coots! Remember us? We’re of the Losts!’
And Fisher remembered, and he pressed a hand to his forehead. ‘Oh, no…’
* * *
A warband ambushed Kyle when he was a few days inland. He was not surprised. He knew that though these lands might appear a wasteland to some, to those who lived here it was their territory, their home, to be guarded against trespassers who would strain its already slim resources.
They were on foot, and arose all at once from the stiff grasses and brush of the rolling hills. He halted and raised his hands to demonstrate his peaceful intent. They wore headscarves and treated hides laced together as leathers, and carried spears, with bone-handled knives at their waists. What Kyle noticed right away was the striking similarity they bore to himself: short and broad, skin a dark olive hue, and thin facial hair of moustache and mere tufts of beard.
‘What’s all this?’ the Genabackan called out.
The scouts all winced. The veterans hung their heads.
‘Quiet,’ Teal hissed.
‘What’s that?’ the man shouted back. ‘What?’
Fisher could swear veins were writhing in the Letherii commander’s temples. Through clenched teeth he grated, ‘Quiet.’
Enguf was now close enough to hear and he nodded. ‘Ah! Quiet. Very well. May I ask why?’
Teal was pressing his fingertips to his brow, his head lowered.
‘The scouts think they saw a bridge down the trail here,’ one of Malle’s old veterans said. ‘But the clouds closed in on us so we can’t be sure. Why don’t you take your boys down and have a look?’
Fisher glared at the man, but the rest of the veterans were grinning. One had a strip of dried meat held in his teeth. Sucking on it to soften it, Fisher knew.
‘No thank you,’ Enguf answered. ‘We’re happy where we are.’
It was good to know that the Genabackan wasn’t a complete fool.
‘You Malazans go down under cover of these clouds,’ Teal said, raising his head. ‘Reconnoitre.’
The four veterans exchanged slow looks. ‘Don’t think so,’ answered the one who’d spoken earlier.
Teal studied the man for a moment. ‘You don’t…’ He drew a breath. ‘Go down and reconnoitre … soldier.’
The Malazan’s stare was steady. Then he gave a small shrug of his rounded shoulders. ‘I don’t take orders from you.’
Teal appeared ready to bring the rocks down around them excoriating the man, so Fisher jumped in, saying, ‘What’s your name, soldier?’
The man’s gaze swung to him. It was half-lidded, distant, the eyes a pale hazel. Fisher recognized the loose watchfulness of someone poised to kill at any moment. Not your usual veteran. A trained bodyguard, perhaps? But field experienced, obviously.
‘Stub,’ the man said. ‘Sergeant Stub.’
Teal nodded brusquely. ‘Thank you, Fisher.’ To the sergeant, he said: ‘I will have a word with your employer regarding your insubordination, soldier. You can be sure of that.’
The man actually gave Teal a wink, saying, ‘You do that.’
But irony appeared lost on Teal, who merely nodded, indicating that he most certainly would.
There seemed to be an impasse, as none of the three parties was willing to risk men on the steep twisting trail down to the hidden defile below. Fisher blew on his hands to warm them; his homeland’s chill cut deeper than any he’d encountered elsewhere. It struck him that one man might sneak down whereas a full party would make too much noise.
‘I will go,’ he said.
Teal’s quick nod of acceptance seemed to say it was about time he did something useful. The veteran, Stub, frowned, either displeased or uneasy, Fisher wasn’t certain which. He started down the trail-head. It was extraordinarily steep; to keep from falling he had to lean into the slope, running his hands along the rock as he descended. Gusting curtains of snow obscured the bottom. The sky was iron-grey, the rock slate-hued, or black with melt and ice, while the snow seemed to swallow everything down its swirling leaden throat.
After many switchbacks, he stepped out on to a relatively flat ledge. It was wide and deep. He thought he could make out a structure of sorts at its far end and was about to step towards it when movement in the corner of his eye snapped him round, sword out.
It was Jethiss. Fisher let out a breath, sheathed his sword. ‘You needn’t have come,’ he whispered.
‘I could not let you go alone.’
‘You are very quiet.’
‘Thank you.’
Fisher gestured ahead. ‘What do you sense?’
The Andii’s long-jawed face hardened in distaste. The contrary gusting winds whipped his white-streaked hair. ‘Something terrible. A crime.’
Fisher nodded his agreement. They spread apart and advanced. The structure emerged from the flurries: tall and thin, the landing or buttress of a bridge that went on to span the defile ahead. The bridge, however, was not a suspended arc of rope and wood, as Fisher expected. It was the trellis sort, one that descended in segments all the way down into the darkness where, presumably, it rested upon the uneven ground below.
He heard a grunt from Jethiss at his side, a gut-punched exhalation of shock, or revulsion, and the man stopped advancing. A few steps later the bridge resolved clearly in his vision and he halted, stunned. The whole thing, the tower buttress, the bed, the trellis supporting structure, was built entirely of bones.
Not an exaggeration then, he mused. Nor poetic metaphor. The majority of the upper segments appeared to be built of thinner, less robust bones, while the lower he cast his eye down the immense edifice the thicker and heavier became the bones. Some seemed even gigantic, though the scale was difficult to make out. He was curious as to how they were all attached, or woven together, as it were, but he did not wish to approach any closer.
They backed away. At the base of the trail they found the four veterans, including Sergeant Stub. Fisher sent him an arched brow. The man raised his eyes to the sky. ‘Couldn’t let you do m’damned work.’ He gestured ahead. ‘So? What is it?’
‘It is a bridge,’ Fisher allowed. ‘Made of bones.’
‘Hunh,’ the man grunted. ‘That’s not you bein’ all bardish, is it?’
‘No. Sadly not.’
‘Well. Ain’t that a curiosity, then.’
‘It is a perversion,’ Jethiss supplied, his voice hard.
Fisher was surprised by the man’s vehemence. He might be without conscious memories, but this artefact seemed to have touched him. It outraged something deep within him. Through slit eyes the sergeant studied the Andii for a time. He rubbed his thumb over his scarred chin. Then he motioned his companions forward. ‘Take a look-see.’ Before they could obey, tumbling gravel and rocks announced the arrival of Teal and the van of his force.
‘Afraid we found a copper sliver and he won’t get his share,’ Stub murmured to Fisher, who answered with a quick grin.
‘What is it?’ Teal demanded.
‘It really is a bridge of bone,’ Fisher said.
‘Sounds unsteady,’ the marshal remarked, as if its engineering was the only question of relevance. Holden and Alca arrived, slipping and sliding down the sheer trail.
‘This stinks of Elder magic,’ the ex-cadre mage warned, short of breath.
‘I will examine it,’ Alca said.
Holden thrust an arm out before her. ‘Don’t be a fool!’
‘We should go around,’ Fisher said.
‘And how many weeks would that cost us?’ Teal answered impatiently.
‘Thought you’d be all cat-curious,’ Stub said to Fisher, grinning.
Jethiss suddenly spoke over everyone: ‘You are all in great danger here. You should all leave.’
Stub and Teal examined the man as if questioning his sanity. Teal arched a brow. ‘Thank you for the valuable insight.’ He gestured, inviting Stub forward. ‘Shall we look?’
The sergeant shrugged once more. ‘I’ll take a peek.’
The party edged forward together, the Letherii and Malazans drawing swords or readying crossbows and bows. Fisher heard Malle descending the trail on her donkey, along with Enguf and his party. He advanced with the soldiers through the gusting snow until the edifice resolved into view once more. The soldiers grunted or swore as they made out the grisly details of its construction. It seemed to Fisher that the snowstorm was thinning. He could see further down into the defile, which was far indeed.
The mages snarled warnings then, leaping back. Jethiss pulled Fisher by the arm. The soldiers shuffled backwards. The very ground they stood upon was heaving. Bones of every sort and description were pushing their way up through the dirt and gravel: animal scapulae, pelvises and femurs, all sturdy and large; dirty human bones still holding tatters of ligaments, these mostly the long limb bones of femur, humerus, and tibia. Mixed in among them all came enormous bones to which Fisher could not put a name: the remains of giants, he wondered, or perhaps dragons. Bones as tall as he and as thick around as his torso.
The macabre collection slid and grated together into a heap before the entrance to the bridge. As the parties continued to retreat, the bones assembled themselves before their eyes into a gruesome skeleton of gigantic size that reared fully some four man-heights above them.
Its legs were built of the most massive of the remains, the dragon or elephant bones. Its pelvis was constructed of many such pelvises, lashed and articulated by slithering ligament and tendon. Its ribs might have been those of the fearsome sea-behemoths, so massive was their arch. Its spine was a pile of segments, any one of which was probably as large as Fisher’s own pelvis. The flat blades of its scapulae were constructed of many taken from elk or similar giant ungulates. The longest of the bones banged and scraped together to build its arms, the reach of which made Fisher despair. It had them all easily within its sweep.
Yet Fisher saw no skull of any kind. Was it headless? Or the skull yet to be assembled? The hands, constructed of the lesser human bones, now clutched and flexed. They swung down, digging into the ground, working and probing. When they emerged, throwing up a great swathe of dirt and gravel that everyone raised their arms against as it came pattering and clattering down, they held an immense object that rained more dirt and mud. The creature set it upon its own shoulders. As the dirt fell away, Fisher made out the elongated muzzle and fleshless grin of a dragon skull.
Cold intelligence regarded them through the empty dark sockets. No one, Fisher noted, had run; all had understood that the creature had them within its reach. All gripped weapons, were hunched for battle. The Malazan veterans had even readied their broad heavy-infantry shields.
All except Jethiss, who stood with arms crossed, an expression upon his face that Fisher could only interpret as disgust.
‘Pay the price,’ the creature boomed in a voice that brought rocks tumbling down the trail, ‘and you may pass.’
The Cawn mage Holden stepped forward. Fisher had to give the ex-cadre mage his due: the man was damned brave. ‘What is your price?’
‘One in three must give his bones.’
Malle, just behind Fisher, let her breath out in a furious hiss. ‘This is not to be borne,’ she murmured.
‘And if we merely turn round?’ Holden asked.
‘Fight or flee, the bones of all will stay behind.’
‘A steep price then,’ Teal whispered to Malle. ‘But better than…’ He tailed off, because Jethiss had stepped forward.
‘What is your name?’ the Andii demanded.
Teal glared at Fisher. ‘Shut that damned fool up before he gets us all killed!’
The giant’s dragon skull turned to examine Jethiss. ‘You ask my name,’ it boomed. ‘You who do not even know your own.’
Fisher could have sworn that Jethiss literally jumped into the air at that. His arms fell to his sides, his hands clutched. He edged even closer to the creature. ‘Give me my name.’
The dark empty sockets regarded him steadily. Fisher thought he glimpsed dark blue-black flames flickering within. ‘I will strike a bargain with thee, child of the Andii.’ Its voice growled and rolled, and struck echoes from deep within the defile below. ‘Give me your bones and all others may keep theirs.’
‘And my name?’
‘That you shall have – for a time.’
Fisher lunged forward. ‘No!’
‘Done,’ Jethiss called out, sweeping a hand to seal the bargain.
Fisher gripped his arm. ‘Are you a fool? What have you done?’
The man offered a crooked smile. ‘I have bought my name – at a fair price.’
‘At the price of your life!’
‘At the price of saving near twenty.’
Fisher released him, let out a ragged breath. ‘Well, yes. But still…’
‘All must pass now!’ the creature boomed. ‘Go!’
Marshal Teal approached, inclined his head to Jethiss. He regarded him for a time as if searching for the right words, then said, ‘You may not believe me when I say this … but I understand what you are doing. We in Lether believe that everything has a price, but we are not fools. We understand that the most important things are paid for with blood. And so I salute you. You have found something more precious than life … I can only hope to find a thing so precious myself one day.’ And he bowed again, then waved his guard forward.
Malle came next – on foot. One of her guards led her mount. She studied Jethiss closely, peering sharply at him. ‘This is distasteful to me,’ she said. ‘Especially when,’ and she leaned forward, lowering her voice, ‘as you fighting men say, I believe we could have taken him.’
Jethiss smiled again. ‘At the price of many more than twenty, I should think.’
Her mouth remained a tight slash. ‘Still, I do not like it.’ She shook her head, cast a quick glance to the creature, which had raised its notched skull and now stared into the distance, seemingly paying no attention, and whispered, ‘Remember your ancestry.’ She bowed, and moved away. Her Malazan guard of veterans followed. Every one of them saluted.
Enguf came last. He was rubbing the back of his neck and looking quite sheepish. ‘A third of my lads and lasses thank you heartily. I tell you, they were all for running off. But now … well. We can hardly do that, hey?’ The man obviously wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words. Finally, tears in his eyes, he lunged forward and enveloped the much taller Andii in a great hug, thumping him on the back. Releasing him, he growled, ‘I hope you find what you’re looking for, man. I truly do.’ He waved his Genabackan crew onward. Some of these, when they passed, just stared at Jethiss as if they thought him touched.
Then Fisher was alone with him. Jethiss gently urged him onward. ‘Go on. Go with my blessings. You saved me. Brought me to my name. You have my thanks.’
Fisher found himself shaking his head. ‘I’m not going.’
The Andii frowned. A touch of anger hardened his face. ‘Now who is playing the fool…’
Above them, the giant was stirring. Its titanic skull was lowering to regard them. Fisher leaned close to Jethiss. ‘You see … I too would like to know your name.’
Then the gigantic bone hands swept in and closed upon them, sweeping them off their feet and swinging them into the air, and Fisher screamed his surprise and terror as the creature took one great leap into the defile.
* * *
It thrust them into a cave that opened directly on to the sheer cliff. Fisher could see no way down as he was pushed within. The hands released them to fall to a rocky floor.
‘My name!’ Jethiss yelled into the absolute night surrounding them.
The rumbling voice echoed back, mocking. ‘I did not say when you would have it.’ Then Fisher sensed they were alone in the inky black.
‘I am sorry,’ Jethiss said from off to one side.
‘It’s all right. We still have our bones.’
‘For a time,’ Jethiss agreed.
Fisher felt at his back then, alarmed. He whipped the idum from where he’d slung it and gingerly felt along its wrapped length to find that the neck was broken. ‘Damn.’
‘What is it?’
‘Broke my neck.’
‘Your neck!’
Fisher snorted a laugh. ‘Sorry – the neck of my instrument.’
‘Oh.’
A hand clasped Fisher’s arm and helped him upright. ‘You can see?’ Fisher marvelled.
‘I see fine. Why?’
‘I cannot. Although…’ He squinted in one direction. ‘I believe I see some sort of a glow off that way. A fire?’
After a moment Jethiss answered, ‘I see it as well.’ The hand pulled lightly. ‘I will guide you.’
Fisher shifted the hand to his elbow. ‘There.’
‘Ah. I see.’
It couldn’t have been that far, but the walk seemed excruciatingly long to Fisher. He lost count of the number of times he barked his shins on rocks, or twisted his ankles on the uneven cave floor. At times Jethiss had him duck under low-hanging formations or ledges. Eventually, as they neared the fire, he could see better and better, and finally he eased free of the Andii’s hand.
They came to a very modest little fire that gave hardly any light or heat. It appeared to be built of old dry roots and other such burnable trash. In the utter black of the cave, however, it felt wonderful to Fisher. He knelt to warm his hands at it.
Jethiss breathed a low warning: ‘We are not alone.’
Fisher straightened.
Two figures came emerging from the murk. Twins they appeared, so alike were they, both in rough torn leathers, both squat with extraordinarily burly muscular builds, like wrestlers, and both as hairy as bears. One was mostly bald, with gold earrings; the other sported a great massed curly nest about his head. Twigs rode in their thick black and russet beards. Long-knives and hatchets were tucked into their leather belts.
For a time they stared at each other, wordless. Then the massively haired one struck the bald one in the chest, saying, ‘It’s that songster, Fisher. Hey, Fish. Remember us?’
Fisher squinted. He knew the accent. It was a northerner’s … ‘I’m sorry … I don’t…’
The hairy one thumped his companion in his massive chest again, once more raising a cloud of dust. ‘It’s us! Badlands and Coots! Remember us? We’re of the Losts!’
And Fisher remembered, and he pressed a hand to his forehead. ‘Oh, no…’
* * *
A warband ambushed Kyle when he was a few days inland. He was not surprised. He knew that though these lands might appear a wasteland to some, to those who lived here it was their territory, their home, to be guarded against trespassers who would strain its already slim resources.
They were on foot, and arose all at once from the stiff grasses and brush of the rolling hills. He halted and raised his hands to demonstrate his peaceful intent. They wore headscarves and treated hides laced together as leathers, and carried spears, with bone-handled knives at their waists. What Kyle noticed right away was the striking similarity they bore to himself: short and broad, skin a dark olive hue, and thin facial hair of moustache and mere tufts of beard.
