A massive head slid into view, eyes dully glowing.
Toc loosed a shuddering sigh. 'Baaljagg,' he whispered. 'You've grown since I last saw you.'
The ay, after the briefest pause of mutual recognition, lumbered past the doorway. Toc watched the full length of the beast's body slide by, then he followed.
The hallway was a shambles. Shattered stone, mangled cots and pieces of flesh everywhere. The walls were painted in splashes of blood and bile. Gods, has this wolf been crashing through arm-length-thick stone walls? How?
Head slung low, claws clacking, Baaljagg padded towards the bathing chamber. Toc moved lightly in the ay's wake.
Before they arrived a second four-legged shape emerged from a side passage beside the entrance, dark, mottled grey and black, and dwarfing Baaljagg. Coal-lit eyes set in a broad, blood-soaked head slowly fixed on Toc the Younger.
Garath?
The creature's shoulders were covered in white dust. It edged to one side to allow Baaljagg to pass.
'Garath,' Toc murmured as he followed, well within reach of those huge, dripping jaws. 'What was in those bhederin slices you ate, anyway?'
The gentle pet was gone this night, and in its place Garath had become a slayer of the highest, coldest order. Death capered in the huge hound's eyes.
The beast allowed Toc to pass, then swung round and slunk off back the way it had come.
A row of candles on the far wall lit the bathing chamber. Baaljagg, nose to the tiles, was skirting the pools. The trickling water was crimson and steaming. Through its murk Toc could see four corpses, all armoured, lying at the bottom of the pools. He could not be sure, but he thought that they had been boiled alive.
The Malazan pitched against a wall, and, in a series of racking heaves, lost the supper the Seerdomin had so kindly provided.
Distant crashing shook the floor beneath his feet. Garath continuing his relentless hunt. Oh, you poor bastards, you invited the wrong guests into your temple …
'Oh, there you are!'
Still sickened, he twisted round to see Lady Envy, dressed in her spotless white nightclothes, her raven hair tied up and pinned, standing at the doorway. 'That armour proved fatally heavy, alas,' she said regretfully, her eyes on the corpses in the pools, then brightened. 'Oh well! Come along, you two! Senu and Thurule should be finished with the Seerdomin warriors.'
'There's more than one?' Toc asked, bewildered.
'There were about twenty in all. Kahlt was their captain as well as being this temple's high priest. Warrior-priests — what an unfortunate combination. Back to your room, now, my dear. You must gather up your belongings. We're rendezvousing in the compound.'
She set off.
Stumbling in her wake, with Baaljagg trailing, Toc drew a deep, shuddering breath. 'Has Tool shown up for this?' he asked.
'I've not seen him. He wasn't required in any case. We had matters in hand.'
'With me snoring like a fool!'
'Baaljagg watched out on your behalf, my love. You were weary, were you not? Ah, here we are. Gather your accoutrements. Garath intends to destroy this temple-'
'Yes,' Toc snapped. 'About Garath-'
'You don't wake up well at all, do you, young man? Surely we can discuss all this later?'
'Fine,' he growled, entering his room. 'We will indeed.'
The inner chambers of the temple thundering into dust, Toc stood in the compound, watching the two Seguleh dismounting the corpses of the villagers and replacing them with the freshly butchered bodies of the Seerdomin warriors. Kahlt, bearing a single thrust wound through the heart, was among them.
'He fought with fierce determination,' Lady Envy murmured at Toc's side. 'His axe was everywhere, yet it seemed that Thurule barely moved. Unseen parries. Then he languidly reached out, and stabbed the Seerdomin captain straight through the heart. A wondrous display, Toc the Younger.'
'No doubt,' he muttered. 'So tell me, does the Seer know about us, now?'
'Oh yes, and the destruction of this temple will pain him greatly.'
'He'll send a Hood-damned army down on us.'
'Assuming he can spare one from his northern endeavours, that seems likely. Certainly he will feel the need to respond in some manner, if only to slow our progress.'
'I might as well turn back here and now,' Toc said.
She raised an eyebrow. 'You lack confidence?'
'Lady, I'm no Seguleh. I'm not an ay on the edge of ascendancy. I'm not a T'lan Imass. I'm not a dog that can stare eye-to-level-eye with a Hound of Shadow! And I'm not a witch who can boil men alive with a snap of her fingers!'
'A witch! Now I am offended!' She advanced on him, arms crossed, eyes flaring. 'A witch! And have you ever seen me snap my fingers? By the Abyss, what an inelegant notion!'
He took an involuntary step back. 'A figure of speech-'
'Oh, be quiet!' She took his face in her hands, pulled him inexorably closer. Her full lips parted slightly.
Toc tried to pull away, but his muscles seemed to be dissolving around his bones.
She stopped suddenly, frowned. 'No, perhaps not. I prefer you … free.' The frown shifted to a scowl. 'Most of the time, in any case, though you have tried my patience this morning.'
She released him, studied his face for a moment longer, then smiled and turned away. 'I need to get changed, I think. Senu! When you're done, find me my wardrobe!'
Toc slowly shook himself. He was trembling, chilled in the wake of a sure, instinctive knowledge of what that kiss would have done. And poets write of the chains of love. Hah! What they write figuratively she embodies literally. If desire could have a goddess…
A swirl of dust, and Tool rose from the ground beside him. The T'lan Imass turned his head, stared over at Mok's recumbent form near the outer gate, then said. 'K'ell Hunters are converging on us.' It seemed the T'lan Imass was about to say something more, then simply vanished once again.
'See?' Lady Envy called out to the Malazan. 'Now aren't you glad that I insisted you get some sleep?'
They came to a crossroads marked by two menhirs, leaning and half buried on a low rise between the two cobbled roads. Arcane hieroglyphs had been carved into their faces, the pictographs weathered and faint.
Lady Envy stood before them, chin propped on one hand as she studied the glyphs. 'How curious. The root of this language is Imari. Genostelian, I suspect.'
Toc rubbed sweaty dust from his brow. 'What do they say? Let me guess. "All who come here shall be torn in two, flayed alive, beheaded and badly beaten.'"
She glanced back at him, a brow raised. 'The one to the right indicates the road to Kel Tor. The one to the left, Bastion. None the less remarkable, for all the mundanity of the messages. Clearly, the Pannion Domin was once a Genostel colony — the Genostelians were distant seafarers, my dear. Alas, their glory waned centuries ago. A measure of their height is evinced by what we see before us, for the Genostel archipelago is halfway across the world from here.'
Grunting, Toc squinted up the heaved road that led to Bastion. 'Well, maybe their cities survived, but by all accounts the Pannions were once hill peoples. Herders. Barbaric. Rivals of the Daru and Gadrobi tribes. Your colony was conquered, Lady Envy.'
'It's always the way, isn't it? A civilization flowers, then a horde of grunting savages with close-set eyes show up and step on it. Malazan Empire take note.'
' "Never ignore the barbarians,"' Toc muttered. 'Emperor Kellanved's words.'
'Surprisingly wise. What happened to him?'
'He was murdered by a woman with close-set eyes. but she was from civilized stock. Napan … if you can call Napans civilized. From the heart of the empire, in any case.'