Steven Erikson - Memories of Ice

With an unreadable glance at Toc, Lady Envy followed the priest.

The compound's hot, moist air was rife with the stench of decay, and as soon as the Malazan strode from the shadow of the gate, he saw the source of the smell. A score of bodies lined the inside walls, large iron hooks jutting from beneath their breast bones, feet dangling an arm's length above the ground. The stone at their backs was stained yellow and deep red. Eyeless heads hung downward, strands of hair dripping with rainwater.

The priest, seeing where the attention of his guests had focused, surveyed the corpses with a faint smile. 'The villagers have been delivered. Once the labours of building this temple were completed, they were given their reward. They remain before us as reminders of our Lord's mercy.'

'A rather peculiar version of mercy,' Toc muttered, struggling against a wave of nausea.

'One you will come to understand in time, sir,' the priest replied. 'Please. A meal is being prepared. Seerdomin Kahlt — the master of this temple — awaits you within the guest hall.'

'How kind,' Lady Envy said. 'An extraordinary construction, this temple of yours.'

Pulling his gaze from the murdered villagers, Toc studied the edifice rearing before them. The pyramidal shape continued down to ground level, the copper sheathing broken only by a dozen randomly placed skylights, each paned with slabs of thin rose quartzite. A narrow but high portal marked the entrance, framed by four massive cut-stones — a broad threshold underfoot, two tapering, flanking menhirs, and a single lintel stone overhead. The corridor beyond was three strides in length, revealing the breadth of the pyramid's foundations.

The air within, as they emerged into a wide and shallow chamber, proved hotter than in the compound, the light tinted pink and fractiously cast by the windows. A low table awaited them, crowded with footstuffs and lined by pillows on which to recline. Standing before another triangular doorway — this one directly opposite the entrance — stood a huge figure in arcane, black-wrought armour. A double-bladed, long-handled axe leaned on the door's frame to his left. The warrior was bare-headed, his pate shaved, and his angular beardless face revealed old scars along his jawline and down the length of his nose.

Hood's breath, I recognize those scars — a cheek-guarded, bridged helm makes those marks. when someone swings a mace flush against it, that is.

Frowning, Lady Envy hesitated, then turned to the priest. 'I believe you said the High Priest awaits us?'

The gaunt man smiled. 'And he does, mistress.' He bowed towards the warrior. 'This is Seerdomin Kahlt, the master of this temple. Seerdomin are the Gifted among the Pannion Seer's children. Warriors without parallel, yet learned as well. Now, to complete the introductions, will you grant me the honour of your names?'

'I am Lady Islah'Dracon,' Lady Envy said, eyes now on the Seerdomin. 'My companion is named Toc the Younger; my bodyguards Senu, Thurule, and the one presently sleeping is Mok. Do you wish the names of my pets as well?'

You just gave them, didn't you?

The priest shook his head. 'That will not be necessary. No respect is accorded mindless animals within the Domin. Provided you have them within control, they will, for the sake of hospitality, be tolerated. Thank you for the introductions, Lady. I shall now take my leave.' With another bow, he turned and hobbled towards a small side door.

Seerdomin Kahlt took a step forward, armour clanking. 'Seat yourselves,' he said, his voice soft and calm. 'It is not often that we are privileged with guests.'

Lady Envy raised an eyebrow. 'Not often?'

Kahlt smiled. 'Well, you are the first, in fact. The Pannion Domin is an insular land. Few visit, and rarely more than once. There are some, of course, who receive the wisdom and so take the faith, and these are welcomed as brothers and sisters. Great are the rewards when the faith is embraced.' His eyes glittered. 'It is my fervent hope that such gifting will come to you.'

Toc and Lady Envy settled onto the cushions. Baaljagg and Garath remained with the Seguleh, who stood just within the entrance.

Seerdomin Kahlt sat down opposite his guests. 'One of your servants is ill?' he asked. 'Shall I send for a healer, Lady?'

'Not necessary. Mok will recover in time. I am curious, Seerdomin. Why build a temple in such a paltry settlement? Particularly if you then execute all the inhabitants?'

'The inhabitants were rewarded, not executed,' Kahlt said, face darkening. 'We only execute criminals.'

'And the victims were satisfied with the distinction?'

'Perhaps you might enquire that of them yourselves, before too long, Lady.'

'Perhaps.'

'To answer your question. This temple is one of seventy such recent constructions, each commanding a traditional border crossing to and from the Domin. The Pannion Seer's borders are ones of spirit as well as geography. It falls to his most faithful to accept the responsibility of regulation and protection.'

'We are your guests, then, so that you may gauge our measure and judge us worthy of entering your empire, or unworthy.'

Kahlt shrugged, reaching for a wedge of some local fruit Toc did not recognize. 'Please, refresh yourselves. The wine is from Gredfallan, most agreeable. The slices of flesh are bhederin-'

Lady Envy leaned forward and daintily picked up a slice, which she then tossed towards the chamber's entrance. Garath stepped forward, sniffed the meat, then ate it. She smiled at the high priest. 'Thank you, we will.'

'Among our people,' Kahlt rasped, his hands twitching, 'what you have just done is a grave insult.'

'Among mine it's a matter of pragmatism.'

The Seerdomin bared his teeth in a cold smile. 'Trust and honour are valued traits in the Pannion Domin, Lady. The contrast with the culture you are from can be made no more obvious.'

'Indeed. Do you dare risk our corrupting influence?'

'You have no influence, Lady. Perhaps, however, we have.'

Toc poured himself some wine, wondering at what Envy was up to. They had walked into a hornets' nest and, smiling, she was plucking one man's wings.

Kahlt had regained his composure. 'Is it wise to mask your servants, Lady? The practice seems to run contrary to the needs of your unfortunate paranoia.'

'Ah, but they are more than simple servants, Seerdomin. They are, in fact, emissaries. Tell me, are you familiar with the Seguleh?'

Kahlt slowly leaned back, studying the silent warriors at the entrance. 'The island people … who slay all our monks. And have asked us to declare war upon them, and mount an invasion fleet. Arrogance reaps its own reward, as they shall discover. After all, it is one thing to murder unarmed priests … Ten thousand Seerdomin shall enact vengeance upon the Seguleh. Very well,' he sighed, 'do these emissaries now come to beg forgiveness?'

'Oh no,' Lady Envy said. 'They come to-'

Toc's hand snapped out, closed on her arm. Surprised, she faced him. 'Lady,' he murmured, then turned to Kahlt. 'They have been sent to deliver a message to the Pannion Seer. In person.'

'That's certainly one way of putting it,' Envy remarked drily.

Withdrawing his hand, Toc sat back, waiting for his heart to slow its wild hammering.

'There are provisos to such an audience,' Kahlt said, eyes still on the Seguleh. 'Disarmed. Unmasked. Perhaps more — but that is not for me to decide.' His gaze flicked back to Lady Envy. 'How can these emissaries be your servants?'

'A woman's wiles,' she replied, flashing him a smile.

He visibly flinched.

Aye, I know what that's like. Your heart's just turned to water. Struggling not to prostrate yourself at her feet. Aye, plucked and now pinned and writhing.