Dust of Dreams (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #9) 61
‘We’re looking, Sergeant-didn’t you put it up?’
‘Me? You’re my corperl, that was your job.’
‘Hold on, Sergeant. Just rest here-we’re on it.’
‘So I should think. Derliction of duty. Gi’me a wax and a stick, someone, got to write you up. I’m bustin’ you down, to… to, uh, undercorperl. What’s that pounding?’
‘Putting the stakes down, Sergeant. Not long now.’
‘Hey! Look at those green things! In the sky! Who put those there-get rid of ’em!’
‘Wish I could, Sergeant.’
‘You’re now an unnerunnercorperl-for disobeying unners. Orners. Oars. Udders. Hold on.’ She rolled on to her side and was sick, but in a lazy way. ‘Orders. Hah. Hey, where you dragging me to? I wasn’t done there. Something’s in the sky-I saw it-cut right across those greens. Saw it, corperls, you lissinin’? Big wings-I saw… oh, whatever. Someone’s in turble, but it ain’t me. Check that tent now-no spiders allowed-stupid stars, how’d they get in here?’
Gesler brought the lantern close. ‘Look at that, will you? One of Bottle’s rats did that, I bet. Chewed right through the Hood-damned strap. If I catch ’im, I’m going to twist his tiny head right off.’
‘The rat or Bottle?’ Stormy asked.
‘Either. Both. I knew it was hanging funny, down on one shoulder-’
‘Aye,’ Stormy said, ‘you looked ridiculous. Lopsided. Like some green recruit ain’t figured out how to wear the slingwork.’
Gesler glared across at his corporal. ‘And you didn’t say nothing all day-some friend you are. What if I got snot smeared across half my face-you just going to stand there?’
‘Count on it,’ Stormy said, ‘assuming I can keep a straight face.’
‘Next time I see you with bark-hair hanging from your back end, I ain’t saying a thing.’
‘Pays to check twice-I learned that much. Think we should go find Flashwit? She’s way overdue.’
‘Send Mayfly and Shortnose.’
‘You can’t be serious.’
Gesler paused in his tugging loose the chewed-through strap. ‘Huh. Right. Off you go, then.’
‘Sure you don’t need any help there?’
‘Naw, you done too much already.’
‘That’s just it-I’m all wore out, Ges. I’m too old to march the way we’re marching right now. I’ll be walking on stumpy knees if this goes on much longer.’
‘Thus matching your intellectual height. Know what your problem is, Stormy? You’ve gone all edgy.’
The huge Falari snorted. ‘Ges, we just saw a hundred or so squad mages fall out of line, leaking every which way, eyes rolling up inside their skulls, kicking and gagging. And our scary High Mage reeled like a damned drunk and nearly brained himself on a wagon’s edge. Fid lost his last five meals.’
‘None of that’s got anything to do with you going round saying someone’s spyin’ on us, Stormy.’
‘I’m just telling you what I’m feeling, that’s all. Like an itch between my shoulder-blades, you know the kind. And it’s only got worse since whatever happened… happened.’
‘Fid said you’re just imagining things-’
‘No he didn’t. He didn’t say anything-he wouldn’t even meet my eyes-you were there, you saw.’
‘Well, maybe he didn’t say anything, but then, he didn’t have to.’
‘I been having strange dreams, Ges.’
‘So?’
‘Stuff falling out of the sky. I look up and I’m right under it and there’s no way to escape. Can’t run far enough or fast enough, can’t do anything, except watch it come down on me.’ He leaned forward and slapped his hand on the ground, making Gesler jump. ‘Like that. You’d think I’d wake up then. But I don’t. I just lie there, crushed, feeling all that weight. Can’t move a muscle, can’t even breathe.’
Gesler tossed down his hauberk and harness. ‘Stand up, Stormy, you’re coming with me.’
‘Where?’
‘Walk, Corporal, it’s an order.’
Gesler led Stormy through the camp, passing cookfires with their huddled, muttering circles of soldiers. They threaded through the cutters’ station, where weary healers worked on soldiers suffering blistered feet, ankle sprains and whatnot, and then out past the first of the horse corrals. Ahead was a trio of laden wagons, an oversized carriage, and fifteen or so tents.