Steven Erikson - The Crippled God

Aranict frowned. ‘Theirs is an odd humour, my love. I do not think disrespect is the intention. Indifference would have managed that succinctly enough. Instead, they walked out there, and requested solitude.’

‘Ah,’ murmured Brys, taking her hand, ‘it is, I believe, time.’

He led her towards the Adjunct, where Queen Abrastal, Felash and Spax now joined Tavore. Just beyond them, Aranict saw, was Ganoes — not one to join in these moments, yet never far from his sister.

Brys spoke as soon as they drew near. ‘There was some tension at the barrow, Adjunct. I trust all is well?’

‘A misunderstanding, Prince.’

‘The cattledog-’

‘No — once the barrow was sealed, the beast joined Destriant Kalyth, and at her side I believe it will stay until its life is done.’

‘There is word,’ said Abrastal, ‘of a tribe on the plateau north of Estobanse, remote kin of Kalyth’s Elan. Bhederin herders.’

‘They will journey alone?’ Brys asked in concern.

‘With only a few hundred K’ell Hunters as escort, yes,’ replied the Bolkando queen.

‘Prince Brys,’ said Felash, ‘your brother the king’s fleet is only days away.’ Her languid gaze flicked to Aranict.

‘I’ve not yet told him,’ Aranict replied, lighting a stick. ‘Beloved,’ she now said, ‘your brother is with that fleet.’

‘Tehol hates the sea — are you certain of that?’

But Felash was coughing, her eyes wide on the prince. ‘Excuse me, King Tehol hates the sea? But — rather, I mean, forgive me. Bugg — his- Oh, never mind. My pardon, Prince Brys.’

Abrastal was regarding her daughter sidelong. ‘You’re as plump as you ever were,’ she said. ‘Smoke more, girl!’

‘Yes, mother. At once.’

‘And where is your handmaid?’

‘Down with Captain Elalle, Mother, shipshaping a boat or whatever they call it.’

Brys spoke to Tavore. ‘Adjunct … there were times when I … well, I doubted you. This seemed so vast — what you sought-’

‘Forgive me for interrupting, Highness,’ Tavore replied. ‘The deeds that have won us this victory belong to every soul on this journey, and it has been a rather long journey. A sword’s tip is nothing without the length of solid steel backing it.’ She hesitated. ‘There have been many doubts to weather, but this is a weakness we all share.’

‘You said you would be unwitnessed. Yet, that proved untrue, did it not?’

She shrugged. ‘For each moment recorded in the annals of history, how many more are lost? Highness, we shall be forgotten. All of this, it will fade into the darkness, as all things will. I do not regret that.’

‘In Letheras,’ said Brys, ‘there will be a statue of bronze raised in your likeness. I know, few will know what it means, what it signifies. But I will, Adjunct.’

‘A statue?’ Tavore cocked her head, as if considering the notion. ‘Will I be beautiful?’ she asked, and before Brys could answer she formally bowed before him and then Queen Abrastal. ‘I thank you both, for making my cause your own. For your losses, I grieve. Goodbye, Highnesses.’

They let her depart.

And only Aranict heard Brys say, ‘Of course you will.’

‘A Hood-damned dog,’ muttered Deadsmell as the marines and heavies walked from the barrow.

‘That’s Gesler for you,’ replied Throatslitter. ‘Brainless to the end.’

‘He wouldn’t have liked things without Stormy, anyway,’ observed Balm.

Bottle considered this brief exchange, and then nodded to himself. There’s a point when there’s nothing left to say. When every word does nothing more than stir the ashes . He glanced over at Smiles, and then Koryk, and finally Tarr. We finally took some losses, our squad. Cuttle — never thought he’d die, not like that. In some whore’s bed, maybe. Corabb — gods below, how that man could fight .

Limp says he saw him, there at the end — he’d blown his knee again, was looking over at the Crippled God — and there was Corabb, his face all lit with the glory of his last stand over the chained body of a god .

Really, what could be more perfect than that?

Well done, Corabb Bhilan Thenu’alas .

‘Heard she’s retiring us,’ ventured Sinter. ‘Priest’s paying us out — a damned fortune for each and every one of us.’

‘Where’en ne faareden? Eh? War bit ana dem?’

‘To the families if they got any, Nep. That’s how it’s done. Stand or fall, you still get paid.’

‘G’han nered pah vreem!’

Sinter made a startled sound, and beside her Kisswhere leaned forward to shoot Nep Furrow a shocked look.

‘Really, Nep?’ Kisswhere asked.

‘Nepel!’

‘Gods below,’ Sinter whispered. ‘I never …’

Reaching the road, they came within sight of the Bonehunter regulars. Glancing back, Bottle saw the Adjunct on her way up, with Banaschar at her side. Behind these two walked Lostara Yil, Henar Vygulf, the three Fists, Skanarow and Ruthan Gudd.

‘She wants a last word with them,’ Tarr said, evidently noticing Bottle’s backward look. ‘But we’re not going to be there for that. Between her and them — you others all hear that? We walk through.’

‘We walk through,’ Hellian echoed. ‘Crump, go back and help Limp — he’s lagging. Let’s just get this over with.’

They strode into the loose ranks of the regulars.

‘Wish we had it as easy as you did!’ someone shouted.

Koryk yelled back, ‘You never would’ve hacked it, Ffan!’

‘Hey, Hellian, found me this big spider here — wanna see it?’

‘Call it whatever you want, soldier, it’s still small.’

Bottle shook his head. Aw, fuck. They’re soldiers — what did you expect?

It was dark by the time Korlat returned to the small Tiste Andii camp. They were seated round a fire, like hunters out from the wood, or harvesters at day’s end. A fresh rain had cleansed the air, but its passage had been brief and now overhead tracked the Jade Strangers — as she had learned to call them — casting down a green light.

Nimander looked up, made room for her on the Kolansii workbench they had found in one of the work camps. ‘We were wondering if you would ever return,’ he said.

She drew her cloak about her shoulders. ‘I watched the Bonehunters depart,’ she said.

‘Have ships arrived, then?’

Korlat shook her head. ‘They’re moving to a camp at this end of the Estobanse Valley. The Adjunct spoke to her regulars. She thanked them. That and nothing more. She was the last to leave — she bade the others go ahead, even her brother, and she walked alone. There was something … something …’ She shook her head. ‘It broke my heart.’

A voice spoke from the darkness behind her. ‘She does that, does Tavore.’

They turned to see Fiddler stepping into the firelight, carrying something wrapped in skins. Behind, arrayed but drawing no closer, Korlat saw the rest of Whiskeyjack’s old squad. They seemed to be muttering to each other in low tones, and then Quick Ben pointed up past the road, and in a sharp voice said, ‘There, that hilltop. Not too far, but far enough. Well?’ He looked at his companions, and both men grunted their assent.

Returning her attention to Fiddler, she saw that he had been watching, and now he nodded, faced Korlat. ‘It’s not far — in this air it’ll carry just fine.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Korlat, ‘what are you doing?’

‘See the hill they indicated, other side of the road? Go there, Korlat.’

‘Excuse me?’

Nimander made to rise, but a look from Fiddler stilled him. ‘Just her,’ he said. ‘I’ll take that stump there — mind, sir?’