The Bonehunters (Malazan Book of the Fallen, #6)

by Steven Erikson

Yes, again. I think I need a new card. I think I’ll call it Salvation. At the moment it is in the House of Chains’ sphere of influence. But something tells me it will claw free of that eventually. Such a taint will not last. This card is an Unaligned. In every sense of the word. Unaligned, and likely destined to be the most dangerous force in the world.

‘T’amber says you must seek help. She says you know who.’ T’amber, the woman with those damned eyes. Like a lioness. What is it, damn it, about those eyes? ‘Who is she, Adjunct?’ A flicker of something like sympathy in the woman’s gaze. ‘Someone…a lot more than she once was, soldier.’ ‘And you trust her?’ ‘Trust.’ She smiled slightly. ‘You must know, as young as you are, Bottle, that truth is found in the touch. Always.’

And he looks down at that screaming broke-leg recruit, and he says, “Your name’s now Limp. Aye, not very imaginative, but it’s like this. If you can’t hear Hood laughing, well, I can.”

‘This is madness, Sergeant! Let go of me – I can explain—’ ‘Save your explanations. I got some questions for you first and you’d better answer them!’ ‘With what?’ he sneered. ‘Explanations?’ ‘No. Answers. There’s a difference—’ ‘Really? How? What difference?’ ‘Explanations are what people use when they need to lie. Y’can always tell those, ’cause those explanations don’t explain nothing and then they look at you like they just cleared things up when really they did the opposite and they know it and you know it and they know you know and you know they know that you know and they know you and you know them and maybe you go out for a pitcher later but who picks up the tab? That’s what I want to know.’ ‘Right, and answers?’ ‘Answers is what I get when I ask questions. Answers is when you got no choice. I ask, you tell. I ask again, you tell some more. Then I break your fingers, ’cause I don’t like what you’re telling me, because those answers don’t explain nothing!’ ‘Ah! So you really want explanations!’ ‘Not till you give me the answers!’ ‘So what are your questions?’ ‘Who said I got questions? I already know what your answers are, anyway. No point in questions, really.’ ‘And there’s no need to break my fingers, Sergeant, I give up already.’ ‘Nice try. I don’t believe you.’

Felisin Paran – she had no luck at all, and when good things showed up, rare as that was, well, she didn’t know what to do or say.’ He shrugged. ‘A person hurts enough inside, all they can do is hurt back.

‘It is useful, on occasion, to halt upon a path, and to turn and walk back some distance.’

And so we weep for the fallen. We weep for those yet to fall, and in war the screams are loud and harsh and in peace the wail is so drawn-out we tell ourselves we hear nothing. And so this music is a lament, and I am doomed to hear its bittersweet notes for a lifetime.

Legana Breed spoke: ‘You are all marines?’ ‘Aye,’ Fiddler said. ‘Tonight, then, I too am a marine. Let us go kill people.’

‘Tonight, the Clawmaster, and three hundred and seven Claws – all by your hands, dear lass. I still…disbelieve. No matter. She’s on her own, now. Too bad for her.’ The barely substantial hooded head cocked slightly. ‘Ah. Yes, Apsalar. We keep our promises. You are free. Go.’

‘Absurd! I must walk. And, perforce, quickly!’

‘Sergeant Hellian, what in Hood’s name are you doing ashore?’ Both figures hitched up at the voice, turned. And Hellian’s eyes fixed on the T’lan Imass. ‘Fiddler,’ she said, ‘you look awful.’ ‘Over here, you drunken idiot.’

‘Pearl hungered for vengeance, and vengeance was repaid him. That’s all.’

Master Sergeant Braven Tooth neared the entrance to Coop’s. Not yet dawn. And the damned night was now quiet as a tomb. He shivered, as if he had just crossed the path of some hoary ghost, passing invisible yet pausing to give him a hungry glance. Coop’s door opened and closed, hard, the object of some anger, and Braven Tooth slowed. An armoured monstrosity ascended into view. Braven Tooth blinked, then grunted under his breath and approached. ‘Evening, Temper.’ The helmed head turned to him, as if distracted by the Master Sergeant’s sudden presence. ‘Braven Tooth.’ ‘What brings you out?’ Temper seemed to sniff the air, then glanced across at the old Deadhouse. A softly clattering shrug as he said, ‘Thought I’d take a walk.’ Braven Tooth nodded. ‘I see you dressed appropriately.’ Both men stepped back as a woman emerged from a nearby alley and came right past them, descended the steps and vanished into the maw of Coop’s. ‘Now that was some swaying walk,’ the Master Sergeant muttered in appreciation. But Temper’s attention was on the cobbles, and Braven Tooth looked down. She’d left footprints. Dark red. ‘So, Temper. I suppose we can’t hope that’s mud, now can we?’ ‘I think not, Brav.’ ‘Well, think I’ll plant myself in Coop’s. You done with your walk?’ A final glance across at the Deadhouse, then the huge man nodded. ‘So it seems.’ The two went down into the murky confines of the Hanged Man.

‘My temper is fine! I am perfectly calm – seething with fury and hatred, mind you, but calm!’

They will have Nil and Nether. They will have Temul, and when Temul is old, decades from now, he will have a young warrior to teach, whose name shall be Coltaine.’