Ian Esslemont - Orb ,Sceptre ,Throne

‘Watch yer mouth, y’ damned drunken witch,’ a passer-by growled.

‘How would you like-’ She held her head and groaned anew. ‘Oh gods ! Wait till I get my hands on that slimy toad!’ She reached for the wall of her shack. ‘Oh, my head. My poor head. Where’s Derudan’s hookah off to?’ She stumbled inside and began searching amid the rubbish.

West of the Maiten River the Malazan army broke camp to march. Fist K’ess was packing his travel panniers with orders and records when Ambassador Aragan entered. The Fist saluted, then motioned an invitation to a stool where a tray of tea waited.

Aragan waved a negative. ‘I’m off for the city.’

K’ess paused in his packing. ‘With respect, Ambassador. Perhaps you should wait …’

The big man tucked his hands into his tight weapon belt. ‘No, no. I’ll have my honour guard, of course.’

‘Come to Pale with the Fifth.’

The Ambassador tilted his balding head. ‘Generous offer, Fist, but the embassy hasn’t been formally closed. We’ll see what the final decision is from whoever ends up in control there.’

‘Very well.’ K’ess saluted once more. ‘A pleasure, Ambassador.’

Aragan seemed almost embarrassed as he turned away, clearing his throat. ‘You’re too kind, Fist.’ He walked off with his splay-legged rolling gait.

K’ess watched him go. A soldier who just wanted to be a soldier but ended up a politician .

Captain Fal-ej paused at the open tent flaps to salute.

‘Yes?’

‘Outriders ready.’

‘Send them off.’

‘At once.’ She turned to go.

‘Captain,’ K’ess called quickly.

She turned back, blinking. ‘Yes?’

‘We’ll stay close to the lake shore, Captain.’

‘Very good, Fist.’

K’ess pulled a hand down his unshaven chin. ‘And perhaps — as we ride — you might tell me all about Seven Cities. I never did make it there.’

Captain Fal-ej’s thick dark brows rose very high and she smiled broadly. ‘That would please me a great deal, Fist.’

That evening Kruppe sat once more at his usual table near the back of the Phoenix Inn. Jess was on duty that night and when she caught sight of him she marched right over. ‘You again! You’ve some nerve showing your oily self here. I’ve half a mind to call Scurve to toss you out right now.’

Kruppe threw up his hands. ‘Good Jess! What ire! What passion! I am overcome. Indeed, I am overcome with famishment. A bottle of red if you would be so kind. With two glasses, for Kruppe is in a bountiful munificent mood. And a touch of that gorgeous mutton I smell. And the pear tart for afters.’

Jess set her fists on her wide hips. ‘And how are you going to pay for all this?’

Kruppe pointed past her. ‘Oh, look! ’Tis Meese herself there at the bar. She’ll speak for me, I’m certain.’

‘Oh, I’ll have a word with her about you all right, you can be sure of that.’

Jess crossed to the bar and spoke with Meese. Kruppe watched, eyes narrowed, nervously tapping his fingertips together. The older woman waved Jess close and whispered something in her ear. Jess’s eyes widened in surprise and she appeared to mouth Really?

The older woman gave a serious nod.

Jess straightened. Her wondering frown seemed to say: who would have thought it?

She returned to Kruppe’s table. Here she bent down to him with a wide smile, and pushed back her hair. ‘Was that two glasses you asked for, sir?’

Kruppe’s gaze darted left and right. His fingertips halted their tapping. ‘Why … yes, good Jess. If you would be amenable?’

‘Certainly, sir. Right away.’ She turned to go but paused for a moment to adjust the lie of her skirt over one broad hip. Then she walked off, swinging those hips like two great warships.

Kruppe’s brows climbed very high indeed and his gaze shifted to Meese at the bar. An evil smirk raised the corners of her mouth and she winked.

Great anxious gods! Whatever did the evil Meese tell the poor woman!

Later that night Kruppe sat back to wipe his enormous handkerchief across his mouth and survey the conquered plates, crusts and bones scattered before him. Most restorative struggle to the death! Kruppe is … satisfied .

Yet the second glass remained untouched opposite and he regarded it for a moment, then poured himself more of the — slightly disappointing — red.

Two cloaked and hooded figures pulled up chairs to either side of him and leaned close.

Kruppe set his glass back down. ‘Gentlemen … Kruppe was expecting company this night, but not you two.’ He gestured to the empty glass. ‘Alas, perhaps my friend’s days of bachelor conviviality are done. The chains of domesticity have closed upon him and gone are the times of carefree bonhomie … Out of the window, as it were.’

‘Whatever in the Abyss are you going on about, ya fat fool?’ Leff growled. ‘We’re in real trouble here and we need your help!’

‘My help? How can poor Kruppe be of any service to you?’

‘We need to get out of town,’ Scorch added urgently from the other side.

Kruppe’s expressive thick brows climbed again; he clamped his handkerchief to his mouth and coughed behind it for a time. Fit over, he stuffed the cloth back into a frilly sleeve and thoughtfully stroked the tiny rat’s tail braided beard at his chin. ‘Really?’ he managed after a time. ‘Kruppe hardly dares ask what for …?’

‘It was an accident-’ Scorch began.

‘It was your fault!’ Leff cut in. ‘You fired!’

‘You grabbed it!’ Scorch yelled, nearly choking.

Nearby conversations stopped as people glanced over.

Kruppe raised his hands for quiet. ‘Decorum in the bar, please, gentlemen. Now, what, exactly, are you two staggering blindly around?’

The two exchanged stricken looks. ‘We killed the Legate,’ they said together in a fierce whisper.

Kruppe slapped a hand to his mouth, choking again. Once the coughing fit had passed he took a quick sip of wine to clear his throat. ‘Oh dear,’ he murmured. ‘ Most serious. I daresay you are in a great deal of trouble.’

Leff pulled his hood lower and glared about. ‘You have to help! The whole city’s after us!’

Kruppe stroked the slim beard once more, shaking his head. He sighed heavily. ‘Kruppe is only one man … This may lie beyond even his astounding abilities.’

‘You have to get us out of the city,’ Scorch pleaded. ‘We’ll do anything!’

Kruppe’s hand paused upon the beard. His eyes darted once more. ‘Anything …?’

The two shared a glance of utter desperation and together they jerked a nod.

The little man picked up a last crust and gave it an experimental nibble. ‘It just so happens that Kruppe does know of a job outside the city that may be admirably suited to your, ah, unique, talents …’

The two sagged in relief. Leff cuffed Kruppe on the back. ‘You’re a true friend, Kruppe. Got no idea where we’d be without ya.’

Kruppe took a dainty sip of his wine. ‘You have no idea,’ he murmured.

The next morning Antsy sat looking out of the still gaping doorway of K’rul’s Temple and Bar and sipped his tea. Sadly, once more they were all out of liquor as last night the three gigantic friends of Fisher, the Heel brothers, had been up drinking and singing until every bottle and keg was bone dry. After the not-so-discreet glowers from Blend and Picker the bard was out now seeing them off.

Antsy sipped the tea again and grimaced his disgust: damned cheap southern leaf.

Duiker came down and sat with him. The old historian rubbed his face and sighed blearily. ‘Didn’t sleep a wink.’