‘The Black Moranth, of course. Coming each night, taking whole companies away. There’s only about four thousand Malazans left on the road, and half of them support. Dujek’s gone, too. Whiskeyjack leads the march – they’ve come to Maurik River and are making barges.’ ‘Barges?’ ‘Sure. To float down the river, I guess. Not to cross, since there was a ford there anyway, and the barges are downriver of it besides.’ ‘And the river, of course,’ Gruntle muttered, ‘will take them straight to Maurik. In only a few days.’
