Steven Erikson - Toll the Hounds

She found a delicate decanter of the thinnest Nathii greenglass, filled with am shy;ber wine, and collected two goblets, and walked out to join the bard. He rose from the bench he had been sitting on and would have taken a step closer to her, but then he saw her expression.

The bard was wise enough to hide his sigh of relief. He watched her pour both goblets to the brim. ‘What happened?’ he asked.

She would not speak of her time at the barrow. She would, in fact, never speak of it. Not to this man, not to anyone. ‘Caladan Brood,’ she replied, ‘that’s what happened. And there’s more.’

‘What?’

She faced him, and then drained her goblet. ‘My father. He’s back. ’

Oh frail city. .

An empty plain it was, beneath an empty sky. Weak, flickering fire nested deep in its ring of charred stones, now little more than ebbing coals. A night, a hearth, and a tale now spun, spun out.

‘ Has thou ever seen Kruppe dance? ’

‘ No. I think not. Not by limb, not by word. ’

‘ Then, my friends, settle yourselves for this night. And witness . .’

And so they did. Bard and Elder God, and oh how Kruppe danced. Blind to the threat of frowns, blind to dismay, rolling eyes, blind even to contempt — although none of these things came from these two witnesses. But beyond this frail ring of warm light, out in that vast world so discordant, so filled with tumult, judgement harsh and gleeful in cruelty, there can be no knowing the cast of arrayed faces.

No matter.

One must dance, and dance did Kruppe, oh, yes, he did dance.

The night draws to an end, the dream dims in the pale silver of awakening. Kruppe ceases, weary beyond reason. Sweat drips down the length of his ratty beard, his latest affectation.

A bard sits, head bowed, and in a short time he will say thank you. But for now he must remain silent, and as for the other things he would say, they are between him and Kruppe and none other. Fisher sits, head bowed. While an Elder God weeps.

The tale is spun. Spun out.

Dance by limb, dance by word. Witness!

This ends the Eighth Tale of the Malazan Book of the Fallen