Steven Erikson - Memories of Ice

'Not yet, maybe. But it will, Lady.'

She shrugged. 'Finally, I have no control over Garath, or Baaljagg. Of that I assure you.'

He bared his teeth. 'Leaving just me.'

She reached out, rested a slim hand lightly on his arm. 'In that, darling, I am simply a woman.'

He shook her hand off. 'There's sorcery in your charms, Lady Envy. Don't try and tell me otherwise.'

'Sorcery? Well, yes, you could call it that, I suppose. Mystery as well, yes? Wonder, and excitement. Hope and possibilities. Desire, darling, is a most alluring magic. And, my love, it is one to which I am not immune …'

She leaned closer, her eyes half closed. 'I will not force my kiss upon you, Toc the Younger. Don't you see? The choice must be yours, else you shall indeed be enslaved. What do you say?'

'Time to get going,' he said, rising. 'Obviously, I won't be hearing any honest answers from you.'

'I have just given them!' she retorted, also standing.

'Enough,' he said, collecting his gear. 'I've stopped playing, Lady Envy. Take the game elsewhere.'

'Oh, how I dislike you when you're like this!'

'Sulk away,' he muttered, setting off down the road.

'I shall lose my temper, young man! Do you hear me?'

He stopped, glanced back. 'We've got a few leagues' worth of daylight left.'

'Oh!' She stamped her foot. 'You're just like Rake!'

Toc's lone eye slowly widened, then he grinned. 'Take a few deep breaths, lass.'

'He always said that, too! Oh, this is infuriating! It's all happening again! What is wrong with all of you?'

He laughed, not harshly, but with genuine warmth. 'Come along, Envy. I'll bore you with a detailed recounting of my youth — it'll pass the time. I was born on a ship, you know, and it was more than a few days before Toc the Elder stepped forward to acknowledge his fatherhood — my mother was Captain Cartheron Crust's sister, you see, and Crust had a temper …'

The lands lying just beyond Bastion's walls were devastated. Farmsteads were blackened, smouldering heaps; to either side of the road the ground itself had been torn into, ripped open like wounds in flesh. Within sight of the small city's squat walls, the remnants of massive bonfires dotted the landscape like round barrows dusted with white ash. No-one walked the wasteland.

Smoke hung over Bastion's block-like, tiered buildings. Above the grey wreaths rode the white flags of seagulls, their faint cries the only sound to reach Toc and Lady Envy as the group approached the city's inland gates. The stench of fire masked the smell of the lake on the other side of the city, the air's breath hot and gritty.

The gates were ajar. As they neared, Toc caught a glimpse of movement beyond the archway, as of a figure swiftly passing, dark and silent. His nerves danced. 'What has happened here?' he wondered aloud.

'Very unpleasant,' Lady Envy agreed.

They strode beneath the shadow of the arch, and the air was suddenly sickly sweet with the smell of burning flesh. Toc hissed through his teeth.

Baaljagg and Garath — both returned to modest proportions — trotted forward, heads slung low.

'I believe the question of sustenance has a grim answer indeed,' Lady Envy said.

Toc nodded. 'They're eating their own dead. I don't think it's a good idea to enter this city.'

She turned to him. 'Are you not curious?'

'Curious, aye, but not suicidal.'

'Fear not. Let us take a closer look.'

'Envy …'

Her eyes hardened. 'If the inhabitants are foolish enough to threaten us, they shall know my wrath. And Garath's as well. If you think this is ruination now, your judgement will receive a lesson in perspective, my dear. Come.'

'Yes, ma'am.'

'Familiarity breeds facetiousness, I see. How regrettable.'

The two Seguleh and their unconscious master trailing three paces behind them, Toc and Lady Envy strode into the square.

Split human long bones were piled against the inner walls, some calcined by heat, others red and raw. The buildings facing onto the square were blackened, doorways and windows gaping. The bones of various animals — dogs, mules, horses and oxen — lay about, gnawed and split.

Three men who were obviously priests awaited them in the centre of the square, clean-shaven, gaunt and pale in their colourless robes. One took a step forward as Toc and Envy approached.

'Strangers, welcome. An acolyte saw you on the road, and we three have hastened to greet you. You have chosen an auspicious day to visit glorious Bastion; alas, this day also places your lives in great peril. We shall endeavour to guide you, and thus improve the likelihood of your surviving the Embrasure's violent… afterbirth. If you will follow us…' He gestured towards a side street. 'At the mouth of Iltara Avenue, we shall have removed ourselves from the exodus's path, yet remain able to witness the miracle.'

'Ideal,' Lady Envy said. 'We thank you, holy ones.'

The walk to the mouth of the side street was no more than fifty paces, yet in that time the city's silence was replaced by a growing murmur, a dry susurration approaching from Bastion's heart. Upon arriving, Baaljagg and Garath returned to flank Lady Envy. Senu and Thurule set the travois down against the wall of a corner building, then faced the square once more, hands on their weapons.

'The will of the Faith has embraced the citizens of Bastion,' the priest said. 'It arrives like a fever … a fever that only death can abate. Yet it must be remembered that the Embrasure was first felt here in Bastion itself, fourteen years ago. The Seer had returned from the Mountain, speaking the Words of Truth, and the power of those words rippled outward. ' The priest's voice broke with some kind of emotion wrought by his own words. He bowed his head, his entire body trembling.

Another priest continued for him. 'The Faith flowered here first. A caravan from Elingarth was encamped beyond the walls. The foreigners were rewarded in a single night. And the First Child of the Dead Seed was gifted to the mortal world nine months later. That child has now come of age, an event that has triggered a renewed burgeoning of the Faith — a second Embrasure has occurred, under the command of the First Child, Anaster. You shall see him now — his mother at his side — leading his newfound Tenescowri. A war awaits them far to the north — the faithless city of Capustan must be rewarded.'

'Holy ones,' Lady Envy said, raising her voice to be heard over the growing roar of chanting voices, 'please forgive my ignorance. A Child of the Dead Seed — what precisely is that?'

'The moment of reward among the male unbelievers, mistress, is often marked by an involuntary spilling of life-seed … and continues after life has fled. At this moment, with a corpse beneath her, a woman may ride and so take within her a dead man's seed. The children that are thus born are the holiest of the Seer's kin. Anaster is the first to reach his age.'

'That is,' Lady Envy said, 'extraordinary …'

Toc saw her face sickly pale for the first time in his memory.

'The Seer's gift, mistress. A Child of the Dead Seed bears the visible truth of death's kiss of life — proof of the Reward itself. We know that foreigners fear death. The Faithful do not.'

Toc cleared his throat, leaned close to the priest. 'Once these Tenescowri leave Bastion … is there anyone else still breathing in the city?'

'Embrasure is absolute, sir.'

'In other words, those who did not succumb to the fever have been … rewarded.'

'Indeed.'

'And then eaten.'

'The Tenescowri have needs.'

Conversation ended then as the leading edge of a mass of humanity poured from the main avenue and began spreading to fill the square. A young man was in the lead, the only person mounted, his horse an aged roan draught animal with a bowed spine and botfly sores on its neck. As the youth rode forward, his head whipped suddenly to where Toc and the others stood. He stabbed a long, thin arm in their direction and shrieked.