A loud snort from Smiles, who had just arrived. ‘I remember those stories. Pamby Doughty with the feather in his hat and his hunchback sidekick, Pomolo Paltry the Sly. Stealers of the Royal Treasure of Li Heng. Cutters of the Great Rope that held Drift Avalii in one place. And Zorala, who as a child climbed the tallest tree in the forest, then found he couldn’t get back down, so that’s where he lived for years, growing up. Until the woodsman came-’
‘Gods below,’ Cuttle growled from the blankets he remained under, ‘someone cut her throat, please.’
‘Well,’ Smiles said with a tight, eponymous curve of her mouth, ‘at least I started the night in a good mood.’
‘She means she had a most satisfying-’
‘Clack the teeth together, Koryk, or I’ll cut those braids off when you’re sleeping and trust me, you won’t like what I’ll use ‘em for. And you, Bottle, don’t let that give you any ideas, neither. I took the blame for something you did once, but never again.’
‘I wouldn’t cut off Koryk’s braids,’ Bottle said. ‘He needs them to sneeze into.’
‘Get moving, Cuttle,’ Fiddler said as he strode among them. ‘Look at Corabb-he’s the only one actually ready-’
‘No I’m not,’ the man replied. ‘I just fell asleep in my armour, Sergeant, and now I need somewhere to pee. Only-’
‘Never mind,’ Fiddler cut in. ‘Let’s see if we can’t stumble onto some Edur tonight.’
‘We could start a forest fire,’ Koryk said.
‘But we happen to be in it,’ Tarr pointed out.
‘It was just an idea.’
Corabb Bhilan Thenu’alas admitted to himself that these Malazans were nothing like the soldiers of the Dogslayers, or the warriors of Leoman’s army. He was not even sure if they were human. More like… animals. Endlessly bickering ones at that, like a pack of starving dogs.
They pretty much ignored him, which was a good thing. Even Bottle, to whom the sergeant had instructed Corabb to stay close. Guarding someone else’s back was something Corabb was familiar with, so he had no issue with that command. Even though Bottle was a mage and he wasn’t too sure about mages. They made deals with gods-but one didn’t have to be a mage to do that, he knew. No, one could be a most trusted leader, a commander whose warriors would follow him into the pit of the Abyss itself. Even someone like that could make deals with gods, and so doom his every follower in a fiery cataclysm even as that one ran away.
Yes, ran away.
He was pleased that he had got over all that. Old history, and old history was old so it didn’t mean anything any more, because… well, because it was old. He had a new history, now. It had begun in the rubble beneath Y’Ghatan. Among these… animals. Still, there was Fiddler and Corabb knew he would follow his sergeant because the man was worth following. Not like some people.
An army of fourteen seemed a little small, but it would have to do for now. He hoped, however, that somewhere ahead-further inland-they’d come to a desert. Too many trees in this wet, bad-smelling forest. And he’d like to get on a horse again, too. All this walking was, he was certain, unhealthy.
As the squad left the glade, slipping into the deeper darkness beyond, he moved alongside Bottle, who glanced over and grimaced. ‘Here to protect me from bats, Corabb?’
The warrior shrugged. ‘If they try attacking you I will kill them.’
‘Don’t you dare. I happen to like bats. I talk to them, in fact.’
‘The same as that rat and her pups you kept, right?’
‘Exactly’
‘I was surprised, Bottle, that you left them to burn on the transports.’
‘I’d never do that. I shipped them onto the Froth Wolf. Some time ago, in fact-’
‘So you could spy on the Adjunct, yes.’
‘It was an act of mercy-the one ship I knew would be safe, you see-’
‘And so you could spy.’
‘All right, fine. So I could spy. Let’s move on to another subject. Did Leoman ever tell you about his bargain with the Queen of Dreams?’
Corabb scowled. ‘I don’t like that subject. It’s old history, which means nobody talks about it any more.’
‘Fine, so why didn’t you go with him? I’m sure he offered.’
‘I will kill the next bat I see.’
Someone hissed from up ahead: ‘Stop that jabbering, idiots!’
Corabb wished he was riding a fine horse, across a sun-blistered desert-no-one could truly understand the magic wonder of water, unless they had spent time in a desert. Here, there was so much of it a man’s feet could rot off and that wasn’t right. ‘This land is mad,’ he muttered.