Steven Erikson - Forge of Darkness

Grizzin Farl mulled on this for a time, and then shook his head. ‘Is it as the Jaghut assert, then? In society we find the seeds of its own destruction?’

‘Perhaps, but they miss the point. It is the absence of society that leads to destruction. When concord is lost, when arguments cease and in opposition neither side sees the other as kin, as brother and sister, then all manner of atrocity is possible.’

‘You strew sharp stones upon my path of thought, old friend. Does Mother Dark will this dissolution?’

‘I should think not, but in darkness she dwells.’

‘The wine is gone. Only sour fumes remain. Drunkenness pretends to resolution. I would sigh and revel in lazy pondering. Do you return home, Caladan? Ah, I thought not. K’rul has begotten a child and the earth itself holds the memory of its birth-cry. Will you drink of K’rul’s blood?’

Brood grunted, eyes on the failing fire. ‘There is no need for that. As you say, the child is born, and will in turn beget many others before too long.’

‘Did you not judge him precipitous?’

‘That judgement is no longer relevant, Grizzin. It is done.’

‘It was a thought of mine,’ Grizzin Farl said, ‘that Draconus journeyed in fevered rage.’

Brood looked up, eyes sharp. ‘And?’

‘Bloodied my feet for a time on that path. But in our night of meeting, which I revisit from all angles, I now conclude that my fears are unfounded. He is indifferent to K’rul. What drives him now is far more desperate.’

Brood nodded. ‘Love will do that.’

‘It may seem to you, by your comment and all its sharp edges, that I am fleeing from my beloved wife and our wastrel of a son. This gives great offence and I am of a mind to draw weapons and have at you.’

‘Then you are even drunker than I had thought.’

‘I am, and am also most hateful of truths that rear up ugly of countenance.’

‘Most truths have that face, friend. But I was speaking of Draconus.’

Grizzin sighed. ‘Guilt shouts loud at the most inopportune moment. Drunk and a fool — already the wine knocks about inside my skull, and I curse how you plied me with that Tiste poison.’

‘Better you than your wife.’

‘All my friends say that. I will be hungry come the dawn — have you spare food?’

‘You brought none with you, Grizzin Farl?’ Caladan Brood sighed.

‘I have a pot,’ Grizzin countered.

‘Followed you out of the house, did it?’

‘Eager to replace the head on my shoulders, yes. Long ago she swore to carry no blade, no cudgel, no iron-tipped spear. Yet made of her hands the deadliest of weapons, second only to her temper, but on occasion even they will deign to reach for something that will serve the instant. I have learned her ways, you see, and so was appropriately wary in my retreat.’

‘And the argument this time?’

Grizzin sank his head into his hands. ‘I went too far. I threw the boy out.’

‘I am sure he gave cause.’

‘He has fallen under the influence of my first progeny, Errastas.’

‘There was always something of the follower in Sechul Lath,’ said Brood. ‘Errastas is ambitious and would be the master of the litter.’

‘Setch is weak, is what he is. To have them both come from my loins shrinks my sack with shame.’

‘Amend that defect before you stand naked before Mother Dark.’

‘In so many ways I will give thanks to the darkness surrounding her. Now, my words remain bold as weapons, but my thoughts shy from reason. I am drunk and unmanned and the only retreat awaiting me is senseless slumber. Good night to you, old friend. When next we meet, it shall be Thel Akai ale and the gifting shall be from my hand to yours.’

‘Already you dream of vengeance.’

‘I do, and with pleasure.’

‘That nearly killed us,’ gasped Sechul Lath, his right arm hanging useless and broken in at least two places. He leaned forward as far as he could and spat out blood and mucus, which was better than swallowing it, as he had been doing since the stubborn woman’s death. The taste in his mouth belonged to violence and savage fear, and now it sat heavy in his stomach. ‘And I am still of two minds.’

Errastas, kneeling nearby, finished binding the deep wound on his thigh and then looked away, back down the glittering trail. ‘I was right,’ he said. ‘They’re coming. Her Tiste blood flows true.’

‘How will this work, Errastas? I am still uncertain…’ Sechul Lath looked down at the corpse. ‘Abyss below, but she was hard to kill!’

‘They are at that,’ Errastas agreed. ‘But this blood — see it flow down the path? See how it swallows gems, diamonds and gold, all of our stolen loot? There is power in this.’

‘But not Azathanai power.’

Errastas snorted, and then wiped blood from his nose. ‘We are not the only elemental forces in creation, Setch. I sense, however, that the power we spilled out here comes as much from outrage as anything else. No matter. It is puissant.’

‘I feel,’ said Sechul Lath, looking round, ‘that this place is not for us.’

‘Mother Dark dares to claim it,’ Errastas said, sneering. ‘Darkness — as if she could claim the domain as entirely her own! What arrogance! Look below, Setch — what do you see?’

‘I see Chaos, Errastas. An endless storm.’

‘We make this place a trap. Let its Tiste name stand. Spar of Andii it shall remain — it hardly confers a right to ownership. By our deeds we undermine its purity. K’rul is not the only one who understands the efficacy of blood.’

‘So you keep saying, but I wonder if we truly know what we’re doing.’

‘Perhaps you don’t, though Abyss take me I’ve tried explaining it to you often enough. I know, Setch, and so you’ll just have to trust me. K’rul would simply give power away, freely, to any who might want it. By this, he undermines its value. He dislodges the proper order of things. We will best him, Setch. I will best him.’ He pushed himself up against a boulder. ‘We haven’t long. They’re coming, that Jaghut and his Tiste hostage. Listen to me. Mother Dark understands the exclusivity of power, though she reaches too far, revealing outrageous greed. We must draw her into this fray. We must awaken her to the threat these new Warrens pose — to us all. It’s important that she resist him, and so occupy all of K’rul’s attention. So distracted, he will not see us, and most certainly not comprehend our intentions, until it is too late.’ He looked up at Sechul Lath. ‘There, I have explained it yet again. Yet I see disappointment in your eyes — what now?’

‘It felt blunt. Crass, even, the way you said it. It lacked subtlety.’

‘I yield the meaningless secrets, Setch, to better hold hidden the important ones. Think of prod and pull, if you like. Explore the concepts in your mind, and muse on the pleasures of misdirection.’

Sechul Lath studied Errastas, lying there propped up against a boulder, beaten half to death. ‘Are you truly as clever as you think you are?’

Errastas laughed. ‘Oh, Setch, it hardly matters. The suspicion is enough, making fecund the soil of imagination. Let others fill the gaps in my cleverness, and make of me in their eyes a genius.’

‘I doubt the veracity of your words.’

‘Well you should. Now, help me up. We must leave here.’

‘Exploiting the very freedom K’rul offers us.’

‘I delight in the irony.’

Sechul Lath turned and looked down at the corpse of the Jaghut, lying so near the edge of the spar. It was a fell thing, to murder someone. Errastas was right: outrage swirled in the air, thick as smoke. It felt heady enough to make his head spin.

‘I never knew,’ said Errastas as Sechul, with only one working arm, awkwardly helped him to stand, ‘that killing could be so much fun.’