Steven Erikson - Memories of Ice

'There were eleven others in your company, wizard.'

Adaephon Delat shrugged. 'I was the youngest — the healthiest — by far. Yet now, finally, even my body has given up. I can go no further.' His dark eyes reached past Whiskeyjack. 'Commander, your soldiers. '

'What of them?'

'They are more. and less. No longer what they once were. Raraku, sir, has burned the bridges of their pasts, one and all — it's all gone.' He met Whiskeyjack's eyes in wonder. 'And they are yours. Heart and soul. They are yours.'

'More than you realize,' Whiskeyjack said. He raised his voice. 'Hedge, Fiddler, are we in place?'

'Aye!' two voices chorused.

Whiskeyjack saw the wizard's sudden tension. After a moment, the commander twisted in his saddle. Kalam sat stiffly on his horse a dozen paces back, sweat streaming down his brow. Flanking him and slightly behind were Fiddler and Hedge, both with their crossbows trained on the assassin. Smiling, Whiskeyjack faced Adaephon Delat once again.

'You two have played an extraordinary game. Fiddler sniffed out the secret communications — the scuffed stone-faces, the postures of the bodies, the curled fingers — one, three, two, whatever was needed to complete the cipher — we could have cut this to a close a week past, but by then I'd grown. curious. Eleven mages. Once the first one revealed her arcane knowledge to you — knowledge she was unable to use — it was just a matter of bargaining. What choice did the others possess? Death by Raraku's hand, or mine. Or … a kind of salvation. But was it, after all? Do their souls clamour within you, now, Adaephon Delat? Screaming to escape their new prison? But I am left wondering, none the less. This game — you and Kalam — to what end?'

The illusion of deprivation slowly faded from the wizard, revealing a fit, hale young man. He managed a strained smile. 'The clamour has. subsided somewhat. Even the ghost of a life is better than Hood's embrace, Commander. We've achieved a. balance, you could say.'

And you a host of powers unimagined.'

'Formidable, granted, but I've no desire to use them now. The game we played, Whiskeyjack? Only one of survival. At first. We didn't think you'd make it, to be perfectly honest. We thought Raraku would come to claim you — I suppose she did, in a way, though not in a way I would have anticipated. What you and your soldiers have become. ' He shook his head.

'What we have become,' Whiskeyjack said, 'you have shared. You and Kalam.'

The wizard slowly nodded. 'Hence this fateful meeting. Sir, Kalam and I, we'll follow you, now. If you would have us.'

Whiskeyjack grunted. 'The Emperor will take you from me.'

'Only if you tell him, Commander.'

'And Kalam?' Whiskeyjack glanced back at the assassin.

'The Claw will be. displeased,' the man rumbled. Then he smiled. 'Too bad for Surly.'

Grimacing, Whiskeyjack twisted further to survey his soldiers. The array of faces could have been carved from stone. A company, culled from the army's cast-offs, now a bright, hard core. 'Gods,' he whispered under his breath, 'what have we made here?'

The first blood-letting engagement of the Bridgeburners was the retaking of G'danisban — a mage, an assassin, and seventy soldiers who swept into a rebel stronghold of four hundred desert warriors and crushed them in a single night.

The lantern's light had burned low, but the tent's walls revealed the dawn's gentle birth. The sounds of a camp awakening and preparing for the march slowly rose to fill the silence that followed Whiskeyjack's tale.

Anomander Rake sighed. 'Soul-shifting.'

'Aye.'

'I have heard of shifting one soul — sending it into a vessel prepared for it. But to shift eleven souls — eleven mages — into the already-occupied body of a twelfth …' He shook his head in disbelief. 'Brazen, indeed. I see now why Quick Ben requested I probe him no further.' His eyes lifted. 'Yet here, this night, you unveil him. I did not ask-'

'To have asked, Lord, would have been a presumption,' Whiskeyjack said.

'Then you understood me.'

'Instinct,' the Malazan smiled. 'I trust mine as well, Anomander Rake.'

The Tiste Andii rose from the chair.

Whiskeyjack followed suit.

'I was impressed,' Rake said, 'when you stood ready to defend the child Silverfox.'

'And I was in turn impressed when you reined yourself in.'

'Yes,' the Knight of Dark muttered, eyes suddenly averted and a faint frown marring his brow. 'The mystery of the cherub. '

'Excuse me?'

The Tiste Andii smiled. 'I was recalling my first meeting with the one named Kruppe.'

'I am afraid, Lord, that Kruppe is one mystery for whom I can offer nothing in way of revelation. Indeed, I think that effort will likely defeat us all.'

'You may be right in that, Whiskeyjack.'

'Quick Ben leaves this morning, to join Paran and the Bridgeburners.'

Rake nodded. 'I shall endeavour to keep my distance, lest he grow nervous.' After a moment, the Tiste Andii held out his hand.

They locked wrists.

'A welcome evening just past,' Rake said.

Whiskeyjack grimaced. 'I'm not much for spinning entertaining tales. I appreciate your patience.'

'Perhaps I can redress the balance some other evening — I've a few stories of my own.'

'I'm sure you have,' Whiskeyjack managed.

They released their grips and the commander turned to the entrance.

Behind him, Rake spoke, 'One last thing. Silverfox need have nothing to fear from me. More, I will instruct Kallor accordingly.'

Whiskeyjack looked down at the ground for a moment. 'I thank you, Lord,' he breathed, then made his way out.

Gods below, I have made a friend this night. When did I last stumble on such a gift? I cannot remember. Hood's breath, I cannot.

Standing at the tent entrance, Anomander Rake watched the old man limp away down the track.

A soft patter of taloned feet approached from behind. 'Master,' Crone muttered, 'was that wise?'

'What do you mean?' he asked distractedly.

'There is a price for making friends among such short-lived mortals — as you well can attest from your own typically tragic memories.'

'Careful, hag.'

'Do you deny the truth of my words, Lord?'

'One can find precious value in brevity.'

The Great Raven cocked her head. 'Honest observation? Dangerous admonition? Twisted and all too unhappy wisdom? I doubt you'll elaborate. You won't, will you? You'll leave me wondering, pecking endlessly in fretful obsession! You pig!'

'Do you smell carrion on the wind, my dear? I swear I do. Why not go find it. Now. This instant. And once you have filled your belly, find Kallor and bring him to me.'

With a snarl the Great Raven leapt outside, wings spreading explosively, heaving the huge bird skyward.

'Korlat,' Rake murmured. 'Attend me, please.' He swung back to the tent's interior. Moments later Korlat arrived. Rake remained facing the back wall.

'Lord?'

'I shall depart for a short time. I feel the need for Silannah's comfort.'

'She will welcome your return, Lord.'

'A few days' absence, no more than that.'

'Understood.'

Rake faced her. 'Extend your protection to Silverfox.'

'I am pleased by the instruction.'

'Unseen watchers on Kallor as well. Should he err, call upon me instantly, but do not hesitate in commanding the full force of the Tiste Andii down upon him. At the very least, I can be witness to the gathering of his pieces.'

'The full force, Lord? We have not done so in a long, long time. Do you believe it will be necessary in destroying Kallor?'

'I cannot be sure, Korlat. Why risk otherwise?'