Perhaps the Crippled God had bound them, as demons could be bound, and it was this and this alone that kept the beasts from Withal’s throat. An unpleasant notion.
‘What’s to stop me,’ Rhulad asked in a growl, ‘from driving the sword right through his scrawny chest?’
‘Do not ask that question of me, Edur. Only the Crippled God can answer it. But I don’t think it could ever be that easy. He’s a clever bastard, and there in that tent his power is probably absolute.’
‘The vastness of his realm,’ Rhulad said, sneering.
Yes. Now why do those words, said in that way, interest me?
The ragged canvas shelter was directly ahead, smoke drifting from the side that had been drawn open. As they approached, the air grew hotter, drier, the grasses withered and bleached underfoot. The earth seemed strangely blighted.
They came opposite the entrance. Within, the god’s huddled form in the gloom. Tendrils of smoke rising from the brazier.
A cough, then, ‘Such anger. Unreasonable, I think, given the efficacy of my gift.’
‘I don’t want to go back,’ Rhulad said. ‘Leave me here. Choose someone else.’
‘Unwitting servants to our cause appear… from unexpected sources. Imagine, an Avowed of the Crimson Guard. Be glad it was not Skinner, or indeed Cowl. They would have taken more notice of you, and that would not have been a good thing. We’re not yet ready for that.’ A hacking cough. ‘Not yet ready.’
‘I’m not going back.’
‘You detest the flesh given you. I understand. But, Rhulad Sengar, the gold is your payment. For the power you seek.’
‘I want nothing more of that power.’
‘But you do,’ the Crippled God said, clearly amused. ‘Consider the rewards already reaped. The throne of the Tiste Edur, the woman after whom you lusted for years – now in your possession, to do with as you please. Your brothers, bowing one and all before you. And a burgeoning prowess with the sword-’
‘It’s not mine , though, is it? It is all I can do to hold on! The skill does not belong to me – and all can see that! I have earned nothing !’
‘And what value is all that pride you seek, Rhulad Sengar? You mortals baffle me. It is a fool’s curse, to measure oneself in endless dissatisfaction. It is not for me to guide you in the rule of your empire. That task belongs to you and you alone. There, make that your place of pride. Besides, has not your strength grown? You have muscles now surpassing your brother Fear’s. Cease your whimpering, Edur.’
‘You are using me!’
The Crippled God laughed. ‘And Scabandari Bloodeye did not? Oh, I know the tale now. All of it. The seas whisper old truths, Rhulad Sengar. Revered Father Shadow, oh, such an absurd conceit. Murderer, knife-wielder, betrayer-’
‘Lies!’
‘-who then led you into your own betrayal. Of your once-allies, the Tiste Andii. You fell upon them at Scabandari’s command. You killed those who had fought alongside you. That is the legacy of the Tiste Edur, Rhulad Sengar. Ask Hannan Mosag. He knows. Ask your brother, Fear. Your mother – the women know. Their memory has been far less… selective.’
‘No more of this,’ the Edur pleaded, clawing at his face. ‘You would poison me with dishonour. That is your purpose… for all you say.’
‘Perhaps what I offer,’ the Crippled God murmured, ‘is absolution. The opportunity to make amends. It is within you, Rhulad Sengar. The power is yours to shape as you will. The empire shall cast your reflection, no-one else’s. Will you flee from that? If that is your choice, then indeed I shall be forced to choose another. One who will prove, perhaps, less honourable.’
The sword clattered at Rhulad’s feet.
‘Choose.’
Withal watched, saw the Edur’s expression change.
With a scream, Rhulad snatched up the weapon and lunged-
Rasping laughter. ‘There is so little, withal, that surprises me any more.’
Disgusted, the Meckros turned away.
‘A moment, Withal. I see your weariness, your displeasure. What is it that plagues you so? That is what I ask myself.’
‘The lad doesn’t deserve it-’
‘Oh, but he does. They all do.’
‘Aye,’ Withal said, eyes level as he stared at the Crippled God, ‘that does seem to be the sole judgement you possess. But it’s hardly clean, is it?’
‘Careful. My gratitude for what you have done for me wears thin.’
