The Blade Itself (The First Law, #1)

by Joe Abercrombie

Once you’ve got a task to do, it’s better to do it than to live with the fear of it.

The forest grew silent but for the endless dripping of water from the branches. The world shrank down to Logen and his next meal.

Then, once he’d eaten, he would ask the spirits for guidance. Their guidance was pretty useless, but the company would be welcome.

It was a while before they came. Three of them. They came silently from the dancing shadows among the trees and made slowly for the fire, taking shape as they moved into the light.

The dawn mist was almost gone, and from the balcony outside Logen’s room, high up on the side of one of the towers of the library, you could see for miles. The great valley was spread out before him, split into stark layers. On top was the grey and puffy white of the cloudy sky. Then there was the ragged line of black crags that ringed the lake, and the dim brown suggestion of others beyond. Next came the dark green of the wooded slopes, then the thin, curving line of grey shingle on the beach. All was repeated in the still mirror of the lake below – another, shadowy world, upside down beneath his own.

Logen didn’t have the heart to tell the old servant that he’d slept outside. The first night he’d tried the bed, rolling and wriggling, unable to come to terms with the strange comfort of a mattress and the unfamiliar warmth of blankets. Next he’d tried the floor. That had been an improvement. But the air had still seemed close, flat, stale. The ceiling had hung over him, seeming to creep ever lower, threatening to crush him with the weight of stone above. It was only when he’d lain down on the hard flags of the balcony, with his old coat spread over him and just the clouds and the stars above, that sleep had come. Some habits are hard to break.

But some things have to be done. It’s better to do them, than to live with the fear of them.

‘You have to have fear to have courage,’

he should only seek to change that which he understands.

The more you learn, the more you realise how little you know. Still, the struggle itself is worthwhile. Knowledge is the root of power, after all.’

Bayaz frowned. ‘There are limits. And there are rules.’ ‘Like the First Law?’ Master and apprentice glanced up at Logen as one. ‘It’s forbidden to speak with devils, am I right?’ It was plain that Quai didn’t remember his fevered outburst, his mouth was open with surprise. Bayaz’ eyes only narrowed a little, with the faintest trace of suspicion. ‘Why, yes you are,’ said the First of the Magi. ‘It is forbidden to touch the Other Side direct. The First Law must apply to all, without exception. As must the Second.’ ‘Which is?’ ‘It is forbidden to eat the flesh of men.’

‘Tea.’ ‘Eh?’ ‘Leaves of a certain plant, boiled up in water. It is considered quite a luxury in Gurkhul.’ He poured some of the brew out into a cup. ‘Would you like to try it?’ Logen sniffed at it suspiciously. ‘Smells like feet.’ ‘Suit yourself.’ Bayaz shook his head and sat back down beside the fire, wrapping both hands around the steaming cup.

‘But you’re missing out on one of nature’s greatest gifts to man.’ He took a sip and smacked his lips in satisfaction. ‘Calming to the mind, invigorating to the body. There are few ills a good cup of tea won’t help with.’

The great wage secret wars for power and wealth, and they call it government. Wars of words, and tricks, and guile, but no less bloody for that. The casualties are many.’

‘There is an empty seat on the Closed Council, there always has been. A pointless tradition, a matter of etiquette, a chair reserved for a mythical figure, in any case dead for hundreds of years. Nobody ever supposed that anyone would come forward to claim it.’

He thinks before he speaks, then says no more than he has to. This is a dangerous man.

A clever liar tells as much truth as he can,