The Complete Malazan Book of the Fallen

by Steven Erikson

‘Enough. You’re telling me too much. I can’t think.’ ‘You won’t, you mean. Harllo’s dead, Gruntle. Time to sober up and grieve.’ ‘You should talk, Buke.’ ‘I’ve done my grieving, friend. Long ago.’ ‘Like Hood you have.’ ‘You misunderstand me. You always have. I have grieved, and that’s faded away. Gone. Now … well, now there’s nothing. A vast, unlit cavern. Ashes. But you’re not like me – maybe you think you are, but you’re not.’ Gruntle reached out, groped for the wet cloth he’d let fall to the floor. Buke collected it and pushed it into his hand. Pressing it against his pounding brow, Gruntle groaned. ‘A pointless, senseless death.’ ‘They’re all pointless and senseless, friend. Until the living carve meaning out of them. What are you going to carve, Gruntle, out of Harllo’s death? Take my advice, an empty cave offers no comfort.’ ‘I ain’t looking for comfort.’ ‘You’d better. No other goal is worthwhile, and I should know. Harllo was my friend as well. From the way those Grey Swords who found us described it, you were down, and he did what a friend’s supposed to do – he defended you. Stood over you and took the blows. And was killed. But he did what he wanted – he saved your hide. And is this his reward, Gruntle? You want to look his ghost in the eye and tell him it wasn’t worth it?’ ‘He should never have done it.’ ‘That’s not the point, is it?’ Silence filled the room. Gruntle scrubbed his bristled face, then slowly lifted bleary eyes to Buke. The old man had tears tracki...