Dust of Dreams (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #9) 61

‘Is that the camp? It’s got to be.’ Corabb looked at his companions. Three blank faces stared back at him. ‘It’s all lit up, too big for a caravanserai. Let’s go.’

He led the way down the grassy slope, waving as a cloud of midges rose to engulf them. ‘We should never have followed that rabbit-this is no place to get lost in, didn’t I say that? The land rolls too much. You could hide whole armies in these valleys.’

‘Maybe that’s what they did,’ Saltlick said. ‘Hey, Corabb, did you think of that? They’s playing a trick on us.’

‘The whole Bonehunter army? That’s stupid.’

‘It was a big rabbit,’ said Drawfirst.

‘It wasn’t a rabbit at all,’ Saltlick insisted. ‘It was a wolf. Rabbits ain’t got glowing eyes and a bloody muzzle and they don’t snarl neither.’

‘It got a bloody muzzle biting you,’ Drawfirst pointed out.

‘Passed right by me-who wouldn’t jump on it being so close? It’s dark out here, you know. But I jumped on rabbits before, and that was no rabbit.’

‘Beasts are different here,’ Drawfirst said. ‘We keep hearing howling, but that could be rabbits, how do we know? Did you see those lizard hides them D’ras was selling? Those lizards was even bigger than the ones we saw from the barge. Those lizards could eat a horse.’

‘That’s how they catch ’em down south, that’s what the trader said. They stick a big hook through a horse and throw it in the river-’

‘That won’t work unless you tie a rope to the hook.’

‘He didn’t mention that, but it makes sense.’

They were drawing closer to the sea of campfires-well, Corabb amended, maybe not a sea. More like a big lake. But an awfully big lake. He glanced over at Flashwit, who wasn’t saying much, but then she rarely did. All she did was smile and wasn’t it a lovely smile? It was.

‘If we hooked a rabbit,’ said Saltlick, ‘we could catch wolves.’

‘Hook a horse and we’d get an even bigger wolf, I bet.’

‘We got horses, too. That’s an idea, Drawfirst, it surely is. Hey, Corabb, we’re gonna jump the next big lizard we see. For its skin. You want in?’

‘No.’

A distant howl sounded, drifting mournfully through the night.

‘Hear that?’ Saltlick asked. ‘More rabbits-keep an eye out, Drawfirst. You too, Flashwit.’

‘That sounded more like a hooked horse,’ Drawfirst muttered.

Corabb halted. ‘Cut it out, all of you. I’m Fid’s heavy, right? I stand just like you do.’ He pointed at Flashwit. ‘Don’t even think of winking. I spent half my life making mistakes about people, and I vowed I’d never do that again. So I keep my peace, but I pay attention, right? I’m a heavy, too. So stop it.’

‘We was jus’ havin’ fun, Corabb,’ Saltlick said. ‘You could always join in.’

‘I don’t believe in funny things. Now, come on, we done enough walking.’

They walked a further twenty paces before a sentry in the gloom ahead barked something-in Letherii. ‘Hood’s breath,’ hissed Corabb. ‘We done found the other army.’

‘Nobody can hide from the Bonehunters,’ intoned Drawfirst.

Koryk stood in darkness, a hundred paces out from the nearest picket. He had a memory that might be real or invented-he could not be certain. A dozen youths commandeered to dig a latrine trench for some garrison troop out on manoeuvres. Seti and Seti half-bloods, back when they were young enough to see no difference between the two, no reason yet for contempt, envy and all the rest.

He’d been one of the runts, and so his friends set him against a boulder at the far end of the pit, where he could strain and sweat and fail. Blistered hands struggling with the oversized pick, he had worked the whole morning trying to dislodge that damned boulder-with the others looking over every now and then with jeers and laughter.

Failure wasn’t a pleasant notion. It stung. It burned like acid. On that day, he now believed, young Koryk had decided he would never again accept failure. He’d dislodged that boulder in the end, with dusk fast coming on, the other boys long gone and that troop of riders-their little exercise in independence done-riding off in a cloud that hung like a god’s mocking breath of gold dust.

That rock had been firmly lodged in place. It had hidden a cache of coins. As twilight crept in, he found himself on his knees at one end of the trench, with a vast treasure cupped in his hands. Mostly silver, a few tiny gold clips, not one recognizable to Koryk’s pathetically limited experience-this was a spirit hoard, straight out from Seti legends. ‘ Under any stone, lad … ’ Yes, the whores who’d raised him had plenty of tales. Could be the whole memory was just one of those tales. A pathetic story, but…