“Everybody's still breathing,” Irilta said, raising her drink. “And here's t” that.”
Meese lifted hers as well and the two women drank deep. Then Meese bent forward. “Any word of Kruppe and the boy?”
Rallick shook his head. “I may not be here when they come back,” he said. “Tell Murillio to go ahead if I don't show, and if other: events occur. And, if that happens, tell him our man's eyes are open.” Rallick filled his tankard and drained it immediately. Then he rose. “Don't wish me luck,” he said.
“How about success?” Meese asked, a worried expression on her broad face.
Rallick jerked his head in a nod. Then he left the inn.
Anomander Rake was hiding something. Baruk was certain of it as he stared moodily into the fireplace. In his right hand was a goblet of goat's milk, and in his left a large fragment of Daru flatbread. Why had the Tiste And? permitted the Imass to enter the barrow? He'd asked that question already of the Lord sitting beside him, but an answer didn't seem forthcoming. Instead, all the alchemist got from Rake was that irritating smugness. Baruk took a bite from the flatbread, the crack loud between them.
Rake stretched out his legs and sighed. “An odd hour to dine,” he said.
“All my hours have been odd, lately,” Baruk said, around the bread. He drank a mouthful of milk.
“I'd no idea that both the Shadow Lord and Oponn had become involved in affairs,” Rake said.
Baruk felt the Lord's eyes on him, but he remained staring at the fire.
“I had an intimation of Oponn,” he said. “But nothing definite.”
Rake snorted in reply.
Baruk downed some more milk. “You hold your hunches close to your chest. I do the same.”
“This avails us nothing,” Rake snapped.
The alchemist turned in his chair to face the Tiste And?. “Your ravens watched that woman and the T'lan Imass enter the barrow. Do you still believe they will fail?”
“Do you?” Rake retorted. “I seem to recall that that was your position on the matter, Baruk. As far as I was and am concerned, I don't much care whether they succeed or not. Either way, there'll be a fight. I suspect you'd imagined there would be a way to avoid one. Obviously, your intelligence concerning the Malazan Empire is sorely lacking. Laseen knows only one thing, and that's force. She'll ignore power until it's unveiled, and then she'll hit you with everything at her disposal.”
“And you just wait for it to happen?” Baruk scowled. “That's how cities are destroyed. That's how thousands of people die. Does any of that matter to you, Anomander Rake? So long as you win in the end?”
A tight smile played on the Lord's thin lips. “An accurate assessment, Baruk. In this case, however, Laseen wants Darujhistan intact. I mean to prevent that. But destroying the city to defy her would be too easy. I could have managed that weeks ago. No, I want Darujhistan to remain as it is. Yet out of Laseen's reach. That, Alchemist, is victory.” His grey eyes were on Baruk. “I would not have sought an alliance with you otherwise.”
The alchemist frowned. “Unless you plan treachery.”
Rake was silent for a time, studying his hands clasped on his lap. “Baruk, he said soffly, “as any commander of long standing knows, treachery breeds its own. Once committed, whether against an enemy or an ally, it become a legitimate choice for everyone in your command, from the lowest private seeking promotion, to your personal aides, bodyguards and officers. My people know of our alliance with you, Alchemist. If I were to betray it, would not long remain the Lord of Moon's Spawn. And rightly so Baruk smiled.
“And who could challenge your power, Rake?”
“Caladan Brood, for one,” Rake replied immediately. “And then there's my four assassin mages. Even Silanah, the dweller within the Moon's caverns, might take it upon herself to exact judgement on me. I can thint
“So fear holds you in check, Son of Darkness?”
Rake scowled. “That title is held by those fools who think me worthy of worship. I dislike it, Baruk, and would not hear it again from you. Does fear hold me in check? No. As powerful as fear is, it is no match for what compels me. Duty.” The Lord's eyes had shifted into a dun tone as they remained fixed on his hands, which he now turned palms up.
“You have a duty to your city, Baruk. It drives you, shapes you. I'm no stranger to such a thing. Within Moon's Spawn are the last of the Tiste And? on this world. We are dying, Alchemist. No cause seems great enough to return to my people the zest for life. I try, but inspiration has never been a great talent of mine. Even this Malazan Empire could not make us rise to defend ourselves-until we ran out of places to run to.”