The demon’s appetite was voracious, and L’oric admired its single-mindedness, if not its rather untidy approach to eating.
Felisin emerged, wrapped in her blankets, and walked to L’oric’s side. She was silent, her hair in disarray around her young, tanned face, and watched the demon consuming the last of the lamb with loud, violent gulps.
‘Greyfrog,’ L’oric murmured. ‘My new familiar.’
‘Your familiar? You are certain it’s not the other way round? That thing could eat both of us.’
‘Observant. She is right, companion L’oric. Maudlin. I would waddle. Alas. Torpid vulnerability. Distraught. All alone.’
‘All right.’ L’oric smiled. ‘An alliance is a better word for our partnership.’
‘There is mud on your boots, and snagged pieces of reed and grass.’
‘I have travelled this night, Felisin.’
‘Seeking allies?’
‘Not intentionally. No, my search was for answers.’
‘And did you find any?’
He hesitated, then sighed. ‘Some. Fewer than I would have hoped. But I return knowing one thing for certain. And that is, you must leave. As soon as possible.’
Her glance was searching. ‘And what of you?’
‘I will follow, as soon as I can.’
‘I’m to go alone?’
‘No. You will have Greyfrog with you. And one other… I hope.’
She nodded. ‘I am ready. I have had enough of this place. I no longer dream of vengeance against Bidithal. I just want to be gone. Is that cowardly of me?’
L’oric slowly shook his head. ‘Bidithal will be taken care of, lass, in a manner befitting his crimes.’
‘If you are intending to murder him, then I would advise against sending Greyfrog with me. Bidithal is powerful-perhaps more so than you realize. I can travel alone-no-one will be hunting me, after all.’
‘No. Much as I would like to kill Bidithal myself, it will not be by my hand.’
‘There is something ominous in what you are saying, or, perhaps, in what you’re not saying, L’oric.’
‘There will be a convergence, Felisin. With some… unexpected guests. And I do not think anyone here will survive their company for long. There will be… vast slaughter.’
‘Then why are you staying?’
‘To witness, lass. For as long as I can.’
‘Why?’
He grimaced. ‘As I said, I am still seeking answers.’
‘And are they important enough to risk your own life?’
‘They are. And now, I will leave you here in Greyfrog’s trust for a time. You are safe, and when I return it will be with the necessary supplies and mounts.’
She glanced over at the scaled, ape-like creature with its four eyes. ‘Safe, you said. At least until it gets hungry.’
‘Appreciative. I will protect this one. But do not be gone too long. Ha ha.’
Dawn was breathing light into the eastern sky as Heboric stepped outside to await his visitor. The Destriant remained in as much darkness as he could manage, not to hide from L’oric-whom he now watched stride into view and approach-but against any other watchers. They might well discern a figure, crouched there in the tent’s doorway, but little more than that. He had drawn a heavy cloak about himself, hood drawn up over his head, and he kept his hands beneath the folds.
L’oric’s steps slowed as he drew near. There would be no hiding the truth from this man, and Heboric smiled as he saw the High Mage’s eyes widen.
‘Aye,’ Heboric muttered, ‘I was reluctant. But it is done, and I have made peace with that.’
‘And what is Treach’s interest here?’ L’oric asked after a long, uneasy moment.
‘There will be a battle,’ Heboric replied, shrugging. ‘Beyond that… well, I’m not sure. We’ll see, I expect.’
L’oric looked weary. ‘I was hoping to convince you to leave. To take Felisin away from here.’
‘When?’
‘Tonight.’
‘Move her camp a league, out beyond the northeast edge of the oasis. Three saddled horses, three more pack horses. Food and water sufficient for three, to take us as far as G’danisban.’
‘Three?’
Heboric smiled. ‘You are not aware of it, but there is a certain… poetry to there being three of us.’
‘Very well. And how long should she expect to wait?’
‘As long as she deems acceptable, L’oric. Like you, I intend to remain here for a few days yet.’
His eyes grew veiled. ‘The convergence.’
Heboric nodded.
L’oric sighed. ‘We are fools, you and I.’
‘Probably.’
‘I had once hoped, Ghost Hands, for an alliance between us.’
‘It exists, more or less, L’oric. Sufficient to ensure Felisin’s safety. Not that we have managed well in that responsibility thus far. I could have helped,’ Heboric growled.
‘I am surprised, if you know what Bidithal did to her, that you have not sought vengeance.’
‘Vengeance? What is the point in that? No, L’oric, I have a better answer to Bidithal’s butchery. Leave Bidithal to his fate…’
The High Mage started, then smiled. ‘Odd, only a short time ago I voiced similar words to Felisin.’
Heboric watched the man walk away. After a moment, the Destriant turned and re-entered his temple.
‘There is something… inexorable about them…’
They were in the path of the distant legions, seeing the glimmer of iron wavering like molten metal beneath a pillar of dust that, from this angle, seemed to rise straight up, spreading out in a hazy stain in the high desert winds. At Leoman’s words, Corabb Bhilan Thenu’alas shivered. Dust was sifting down the folds of his ragged telaba; the air this close to the Whirlwind Wall was thick with suspended sand, filling his mouth with grit.
Leoman twisted in his saddle to study his warriors.
Anchoring his splintered lance into the stirrup cup, Corabb settled back in the saddle. He was exhausted. Virtually every night, they had attempted raids, and even when his own company had not been directly involved in the fighting there had been retreats to cover, counter-attacks to blunt, then flight. Always flight. Had Sha’ik given Leoman five thousand warriors, the Adjunct and her army would be the ones retreating. All the way back to Aren, mauled and limping.
Leoman had done what he could with what he had, however, and they had purchased-with blood-a handful of precious days. Moreover, they had gauged the Adjunct’s tactics, and the mettle of the soldiers. More than once, concerted pressure on the regular infantry had buckled them, and had Leoman the numbers, he could have pressed home and routed them. Instead, Gall’s Burned Tears would arrive, or Wickans, or those damned marines, and the desert warriors would be the ones fleeing. Out into the night, pursued by horse warriors as skilled and tenacious as Leoman’s own.
Seven hundred or so remained-they’d had to leave so many wounded behind, found and butchered by the Khundryl Burned Tears, with various body parts collected as trophies.
Leoman faced forward on his saddle once more. ‘We are done.’
Corabb nodded. The Malazan army would reach the Whirlwind Wall by dusk. ‘Perhaps her otataral will fail,’ he offered. ‘Perhaps the goddess will destroy them all this very night.’
The lines bracketing Leoman’s blue eyes deepened as he narrowed his gaze on the advancing legions. ‘I think not. There is nothing pure in the Whirlwind’s sorcery, Corabb. No, there will be a battle, at the very edge of the oasis. Korbolo Dom will command the Army of the Apocalypse. And you and I, and likely Mathok, shall find ourselves a suitable vantage point… to watch.’
Corabb leaned to one side and spat.
‘Our war is done,’ Leoman finished, collecting his reins.
‘Korbolo Dom will need us,’ Corabb asserted.