Another growled, 'Let's just get rid of these damned slaves and get back, afore the sergeant marches to rejoin the captain.'
'This is Beneth's woman,' Pella said.
'I don't think Beneth is still alive,' Felisin said dully.
'He was not five minutes ago, lass,' Pella said, frowning. 'Bloodied a bit, nothing more. He's rallying his militia right now.' He swung to the others. 'We'll need Beneth, Reborid, never mind Sawark's bluster. Now, three of you — we're not going far.'
With a scowl, the one named Reborid gestured to two others.
A fire had been started in Skullcup's western arm — somewhere on Spit Row. Unchecked, it was spreading fast, throwing a lurid orange glow up against the underbellies of billowing smoke.
As Pella dragged Felisin along, Reborid talked unceasingly. 'Where in Hood's name is the Be'thra Garrison? You think they can't see the flames? There were Malazan squads up patrolling Beetle Road — a rider would have been sent — the troop should be here by now, dammit.'
There were bodies in the streets, huddled, motionless shapes. The small party went around them without pause.
'Hood knows what Gunnip's thinking,' the soldier went on. 'Sawark will see every damn Dosii within fifty leagues of here gutted and left out under the sun.'
'This is the place,' Pella said, tugging Felisin to a halt. 'Defensive position,' he ordered the others. 'I'll be but a moment.'
They were at Heboric's house. No light leaked from the shutters. The door was locked. Snorting with disgust, Pella kicked the flimsy barrier aside. His hand against her back, he pushed her into the darkness within, then followed.
'There's no-one here,' Felisin said.
Pella did not reply, still pushing her along, until they reached the cloth divider behind which was the ex-priest's bedroom. 'Pull it aside, Felisin.'
She did, stepping into the small room. Pella followed.
Heboric sat on his cot, staring up at them in silence.
'I wasn't sure,' Pella said in a low voice, 'if you still wanted her along.'
The ex-priest grunted. 'What of you, Pella? We might manage-'
'No. Take her instead. I've got to rejoin the captain — we'll crush this mutiny — but the timing's perfect for you …'
Heboric sighed. 'Aye, that it is. Fener's grunt, Baudin, step out of them shadows. This lad's no risk to us,'
Pella started as a massive shape separated itself from behind the hanging. Baudin's narrow-set eyes glittered in the dimness. He said nothing.
Shaking himself, Pella stepped back to the entrance, gripping the grimy cloth with one hand. 'Fener guard you, Heboric'
'Thank you, lad. For everything.'
Pella gave a curt nod, then was gone.
Felisin frowned at Baudin. 'You're wet.'
Heboric rose. 'Is all ready?' he asked Baudin.
The big man nodded.
'Are we escaping?' Felisin asked.
'Aye.'
'How?'
Heboric scowled. 'You'll see soon enough.'
Baudin picked up two large leather packs from behind him, and tossed one effortlessly to Heboric, who trapped it deftly between his arms. The sound the pack made when the ex-priest caught it made it obvious to Felisin that it was in fact a sealed bladder, filled with air. 'We're going to swim Sinker Lake,' she said. 'Why? There's nothing but a sheer cliff on the other side.'
'There's caves,' Heboric said. 'You can reach them when the water level's low … ask Baudin, since he's been hiding in one for a week.'
'We have to take Beneth,' Felisin pronounced.
'Now, lass-'
'No! You owe me — both of you! You wouldn't be alive to even do this, Heboric, if it wasn't for me. And for Beneth. I'll find him, meet you at the lakeshore-'
'No, you won't,' Baudin said. 'I'll get him.' He handed Felisin the bladder.
She watched him slip out through a back door she hadn't known was there, then slowly turned to regard Heboric. He was crouched down, examining the loose netting wrapped around the packs. 'I wasn't part of your escape plan, was I, Heboric?'
He glanced up, raised his brows. 'Until tonight, it seemed you'd made Skullcup your paradise. I didn't think you'd be interested in leaving.'
'Paradise?' For some reason the word shook her. She sat down on the cot.
Eyeing her, he shrugged. 'Beneth provided.'
She held his gaze until, after a long moment, he finally pulled away, hefting the pack as he rose with a grunt. 'We should get going,' he said gruffly.
'I'm not much in your eyes any more, am I, Heboric? Was I ever?' Felisin, House of Paran, whose sister was Adjunct Tavore, whose brother rode with Adjunct Lorn. noble-born, a spoiled little girl. A whore.
He did not reply, making his way to the gap in the back wall.
The western half of Skullcup was in flames, lighting the entire bowl a grainy, wavering red. Heboric and Felisin saw evidence of clashes as they hurried down Work Road towards the lake — downed horses, dead Malazan and Dosii guards. Bula's Inn had been barricaded, then the barriers breached. From the darkness of the doorway, as they passed, came a faint moaning.
Felisin hesitated, but Heboric hooked her arm. 'You don't want to go in there, lass,' he said. 'Gunnip's men hit that place early on, and hard.'
Beyond the town's edge, Work Road stretched empty and dark all the way to the Three Fates fork. Through the rushes on their left was the glimmer of Sinker Lake's placid surface.
The ex-priest led her down into the grasses, bade her crouch down, then did the same. 'We'll wait here,' he said, wiping sweat from his wide, tattooed forehead.
The mud under her knees was clammy, pleasantly cool. 'So we swim to the cave … then what?'
'It's an old mineshaft, leading up beyond the rim, well past Beetle Road. There will be supplies left for us at the other end. From there, it's out across the desert.'
'Dosin Pali?'
He shook his head. 'Straight west, to the inside coast. Nine, ten days. There's hidden springs — Baudin has memorized their locations. We'll get picked up by a boat and taken across to the mainland.'
'How? Who?'
The ex-priest grimaced. 'An old friend with more loyalty than is probably good for him. Hood knows, I'm not complaining.'
'And Pella was the contact?'
'Aye, some obscure connection to do with friends of fathers and uncles and friends of friends or something like that. He first approached you, you know, but you didn't catch on. So he found me himself.'
'I don't remember anything like that.'
'A quote, attributed to Kellanved and recorded by the man arranging our escape — Duiker.'
'A familiar name …'
'The Imperial Historian. He spoke on my behalf at the trial. Then, afterwards, arranged to be sent to Hissar by warren.' He fell silent, slowly shook his head. 'To save a bitter old man who more than once denounced his written histories as deliberate lies. If I live to stand face to face with Duiker, I think I owe the man an apology.'
A buzzing, frenzied sound reached them, coming from the smoky air above the town. The sound grew louder. Sinker Lake's smooth surface vanished beneath what seemed a spray of hailstones.
Felisin crouched lower in fear. 'What is it? What's happening?'
Heboric was silent a moment, then he hissed, 'Bloodflies! Drawn, then driven, by the fires. Quickly, lass, scoop up mud — cover yourself! And then me. Hurry!'
Glittering clouds of the insects swept into view, racing like gusts of fog.
Frantic, Felisin dug her fingers into the cool mud between the reed stems, slapping handfuls against her neck, arms, face. As she worked she crawled forward on her knees until she sat in the lake water, then she turned to Heboric. 'Come closer!'
He scrambled to her side. 'They'll dive through the water, girl — you need to get out of there — cover your legs in mud!'
'Once I'm done with you,' she said.