The King beamed.
Lostara wondered at the Queen’s sigh, but not for long.
‘Wonderful! Now, as soon as I recall the specific details of what I wanted to ask, why, I will. In the meantime, my Ceda tells me that you have stirred awake a sorcerous nest of trouble. My Chancellor, alas, assures me that the confusion is exaggerated-which of the two am I to believe? Please, if you can, break asunder this dreadful deadlock.’
Frowning, Tavore turned and said, ‘High Mage, can you address this matter, please?’
Quick Ben moved to stand beside the Adjunct. ‘Sire, both your Chancellor and your Ceda are, essentially, correct.’
Lostara saw Bugg smile, and then scowl from where he stood to the right of Tehol’s throne.
‘How fascinating,’ the King murmured, leaning forward to settle his chin in one hand. ‘Can you elaborate, High Mage?’
‘Probably not, but I will try. The situation, terrifying as it is, is probably temporary. The reading of the Deck of Dragons, which Preda Brys Beddict attended, seems to have illuminated a structural flaw in the… uhm… fabric of reality, a wounding of sorts. It seems, sire, that someone-someone very powerful-attempted to impose a new structure upon the already existing warrens of sorcery.’
Brys Beddict, positioned to the left of the Queen, asked, ‘High Mage, can you explain these “warrens” which seem so central to your notions of magic?’
‘Unlike the sorcery that prevailed on this continent until recently, Preda, magic everywhere else exists in a more formalized state. The power, so raw here, is elsewhere refined, aspected, organized into something like themes, and these themes are what we call warrens. Many are accessible to mortals and gods alike; others are’-and he glanced at Bugg-‘Elder. Some are virtually extinct, or inaccessible due to ignorance or deliberate rituals of sealing. Some, in addition, are claimed and ruled over by elements either native to those warrens, or so fundamentally related to them as to make the distinction meaningless.’
King Tehol lifted a finger. ‘A moment, whilst I blink the glaze from my eyes. Now, let’s mull on what has been said thus far-I’m good at mulling, by the way. If I understand you, High Mage, the realm the Tiste Edur called Kurald Emurlahn represents one of these warrens, yes?’
‘Aye,’ Quick Ben responded, and then hastily added, ‘sire. The Tiste warrens-and there are three that we know of-are all Elder. Two of them, by the way, are no longer ruled by the Tiste. One is virtually sealed. The other has been usurped.’
‘And how do these warrens relate to your Deck of Dragons?’
The High Mage flinched. ‘Not my Deck, sire, I assure you. There is no simple answer to your question-’
‘It’s about time! I was beginning to feel very stupid. Please understand, I have no problem about being stupid. Feeling stupid is entirely another matter.’
‘Ah, yes, sire. Well, the Deck of Dragons probably originated as a means of divination-less awkward than tiles, burnt bones, silt patterns, random knots, knucklebones, puke, faeces-’
‘Understood! Please, there are ladies present, good sir!’
‘Forgive me, sire. In some obvious ways, the High Houses of the Deck relate to certain warrens and as such they present a kind of window looking in on those warrens-conversely, of course, things can in turn look out from the other side, which is what makes a reading so… risky. The Deck is indifferent to barriers-in the right hands it can reveal patterns and relationships hidden to mortal eyes.’
‘Even what you describe,’ said Brys, ‘hardly matches what happened at that reading, High Mage.’
‘Aye, Preda, which brings us back to the wound that is this city. Someone drew a knife and carved a new pattern here. New, and yet ancient beyond belief. There was an attempt at a reawakening, but what awoke was broken.’
‘And do you know who that “someone” might have been?’ King Tehol asked.
‘Icarium Lifestealer, sire. A Champion intended to cross blades with Emperor Rhulad Sengar.’
Tehol leaned back and said, ‘Ceda, do you have anything to add at this moment?’
Bugg started and then winced. ‘The High Mage’s knowledge is most impressive, sire. Uncannily so.’
Queen Janath asked, ‘Can this wound be healed, Ceda? And if not, what is the threat to Letheras should it continue to… bleed?’
The old man made a face that suggested he’d just tasted something unpleasant. ‘Letheras is now like a pool of water with all the silts stirred up. We are blinded, groping, and none of us can draw more than a thin, shallow handful of magic. The effect ripples outward and will soon incapacitate the mages throughout the kingdom.’
‘High Mage,’ Janath then said, ‘you said earlier that the effect is temporary. Does this presume a healing is imminent?’
‘Most wounds heal themselves, over time, Highness. I expect that will begin… as soon as we Malazans get the Hood out of here. The reading gave that wound a sharp poke. Blood flowed out, and in this instance, blood is power.’
‘Well now,’ mused the King. ‘How fascinating, how curious, how alarming. I think we had best proceed with haste to the matter of filling the royal coffers. Adjunct Tavore, you wish to supply a baggage train sufficient to see you into and, presumably, across the Wastelands. This we are happy to provide, at a complimentary, reduced rate-to show our appreciation of your exemplary efforts in ousting the Edur tyranny. Now, my Chancellor has already begun arranging matters from our end, and he informs me that his projected estimate to meet your needs is substantial. It will take us approximately four weeks to assemble such a train and hopefully only moments for you to pay for it. Of course, Brys will arrange his escort’s resupply, so you need not worry about that.’
He paused then, noting the Adjunct’s involuntary start. ‘Ah, your escort. Yes, my brother insists that he accompany you through the neighbouring kingdoms. Quite simply, neither Saphinand nor Bolkando can be trusted to do anything but betray and undermine you at every turn. Depressing neighbours-but then, so were we to them not so long ago. I am considering announcing a Royal Project to construct the world’s highest fence for ever separating our respective territories, with some fine hedging to soften the effect. Yes yes, dear wife, I am now rambling and yes, it was fun!’
‘Sire,’ said Tavore, ‘thank you for the offer of an escort, but I assure you, there is no need. Those kingdoms we seek to pass through may well be treacherous, but I doubt they can succeed in surprising us.’ Her tone was flat and though she couldn’t see, Lostara was certain that the Adjunct’s eyes were if anything even flatter.
‘They are thieves,’ said Brys Beddict. ‘Your baggage train, Adjunct, will be enormous-the lands you seek are bereft-it may be that even Kolanse itself is unable to accommodate you.’
‘Excuse me,’ said Tavore. ‘I do not recall stating our intended destination.’
‘There’s little else out there,’ said Brys, shrugging.
The Adjunct said nothing and all at once the atmosphere was tense.
‘Preda Brys,’ said the King, ‘will be assisting in policing your train as you pass through two entire nations of pickpockets.’
Still Tavore hesitated. ‘Sire, we have no desire to embroil your kingdom in a war, should Saphinand or Bolkando attempt to betray the passage agreements.’
‘It will be our very presence,’ said Brys, ‘that will ensure nothing so overt on their part, Adjunct. Please understand, if we do not escort you and you subsequently find yourselves in a vicious war with no retreat possible, then we in turn will have no choice but to march to your rescue.’
‘Just so,’ agreed the King. ‘So accept the escort, Adjunct, or I shall hold my breath until I achieve a most royal shade of purple.’
Tavore bowed her head in acquiescence. ‘I withdraw all objections, sire. Thank you for the escort.’
‘That’s better. Now, I must now seek reassurance from my staff on three distinct issues. Chancellor, are you content with everything pertaining to outfitting the Adjunct’s forces?’