Dust of Dreams (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #9) 61
She wanted another man but Bakal was in the way. That man wanted her in turn, but his wife was in the way. Bakal’s wife had stood before him, a half-smile playing on her face, a living thing pleased to deliver pain-if pain was possible, which he’d found, to his own bemusement, it was not. The moment she’d realized that, her visage had transformed into hatred.
When she left, she was holding her knife. Between her and her new lover, a woman would die tonight.
Would he stop them?
He had not yet decided. Nothing raged inside him. Nothing smouldered an instant’s breath from bursting into flame. Even the effort of thinking exhausted him.
‘Blood runs down.’ An ancient saying among the Barghast. When a ruler is murdered, a thousand blades are drawn, and the weak become savage. We are in our night of madness. An enemy marches to find us, and we are locked in a frenzy of senseless slaughter, killing our own. He could hear faint screams cutting through the howling wind.
The image of his wife’s face, so ugly in its wants, rose before him.
No, I will not let it be. He rose, cast about until he found his coin-scaled hauberk. If he was too late to save the woman, he would kill both his wife and her lover. An act, he decided, devoid of madness.
‘Find him!’ exhorted Sekara. ‘His brothers are out-killing our allies! Maral Eb is alone-’
‘He is not,’ said Stolmen. ‘On this night, that would be insane.’
She glared at him. Huge in his armour, a heavy hook-knife in one gauntleted hand, a miserable look on his stolid face. ‘Tell him you would discuss the alliance of the Gadra Clan-just find a reason. Once you cut his throat-’
‘His brothers will hunt me down and kill me. Listen, woman, you told me you wanted Maral Eb to command the warriors-’
‘I did not expect him to move on us this very night! Hega is dead! Jayviss is nowhere to be found. Nor is Balamit. Don’t you understand what’s happening?’
‘It seems you don’t. If they’re all dead, then we are next.’
‘He’ll not dare touch us! I have a hundred slayers-I have spies in every clan! No, he still needs us-’
‘He won’t think that way when I try and kill him.’
‘Don’t just try, husband. Do it and be sure of it. Leave his fool brothers to me.’
The rain was hammering down on the thick hides humped over the sapling frame of the yurt’s ceiling. Someone shrieked nearby. Stolmen’s face was ashen.
Spirits below, he doesn’t even need the paint tonight. ‘Must I do this, too? Are you worth anything to me?’
‘Sekara, I stand here ready to give up my life-to protect you. Once this night is done, the madness will end. We need only survive-’
‘ I’m not interested in just surviving! ’
He stared at her, as if seeing her for the first time. Something in that look, so strange on his face, sent a tendril of disquiet through Sekara. She stepped closer, set a hand on his scaled chest. ‘I understand, husband. Know that I value what you are doing. I just don’t think it’s necessary, that’s all. Please, do this for me. Find Maral Eb-and if you see that he is surrounded by bodyguards, then return here. We will know that he fears for his life-we will have struck our first blow against him without even raising a hand.’
He sighed, turned to the entrance.
The wind gusted round him when he pushed aside the flap and stepped outside.
Sekara backed away from the chill.
A moment later she heard a heavy thump, and then something rolled into the tent wall before sliding to the ground.
Heart in her throat, hands to her mouth, Sekara froze.
Sagal was the first to enter the yurt. His brother Kashat came in behind him, a tulwar in one hand, the blade slick with watery blood.
‘Sekara the Vile,’ said Sagal, smiling. ‘’Tis a cruel night.’
‘I’m glad he’s dead,’ she replied, nodding to the dripping blade. ‘Useless. A burden upon my every ambition.’
‘Ambitions, yes,’ muttered Kashat, looking round. ‘You’ve done yourself well, I see.’
‘I have many, many friends.’
‘We know,’ said Sagal. ‘We’ve met with some of them this night.’
‘Maral Eb needs me-he needs what I know. My spies, my assassins. As a widow, I am no threat to you, any of you. Your brother shall be Warleader, and I will make certain he is unassailed.’
Sagal shrugged. ‘We’ll think on it.’
Licking her lips, she nodded. ‘Tell Maral Eb, I will come to him tomorrow. We have much to discuss. There will be rivals-what of Bakal? Have you thought of him? I can lead you straight to his yurt, let me get my cloak-’