Memories of Ice

Rath'Queen of Dreams spoke, 'The early writings of our Council describe the finding of such dugout canoes … in most of the barrows razed during the building of Capustan. Each held but a few bodies such as these you see here, and most of the canoes disintegrated in the effort of removing them. However, some measure of respect for the dead was honoured — those corpses not inadvertently destroyed in the excavations were gathered, and reinterred within the surviving craft. There are,' she continued, her words cutting through the silence, 'nine canoes beneath us, and over sixty bodies. It was the belief of scholars at that time that these barrows were not Barghast — I think you can see why that conclusion was reached. You may also note that the bodies are larger — almost Toblakai in stature — supporting the notion that they weren't Barghast. Although, it must be granted, there are most certainly Toblakai traits among Hetan and her people. My own belief is that the Toblakai, the Barghast and the Trell are all from the same stock, with the Barghast having more human blood than the other two. I have little evidence to support my belief, apart from simple observation of physical characteristics and ways of living.'

'These are our Founding Spirits,' Hetan said. 'The truth screams within me. The truth closes about my heart with iron fingers.'

'They find their power,' Cafal rumbled from the edge of the pit.

Karnadas nodded and said quietly, 'They do indeed. Joy and pain … exaltation tempered by the sorrow for the ones still lost. Shield Anvil, we are witnessing the birth of gods.'

Itkovian walked over to Cafal, laid a hand on the man's shoulder. 'Sir, how will you take these remains from the city? The Pannions view every god but their own as avowed enemies. They will seek to destroy all that you have found.'

The Barghast fixed his small, hard eyes on the Shield Anvil. 'We have no answer, wolf. Not yet. But we do not fear. Not now, and not ever again.'

Itkovian slowly nodded. 'It is well,' he said with fullest understanding, 'when you find yourself in the embrace of your god.'

Cafal bared his teeth. 'Gods, wolf. We have many. The first Barghast to come to this land, the very first.'

'Your ancestors have ascended.'

'They have. Who now dares challenge our pride?'

That remains to be seen, alas.

'You've an apology to make,' Stonny Menackis said as she stepped out of the practice circle and reached for a cloth to wipe the sweat from her face.

Gruntle sighed. 'Aye, I'm sorry, lass-'

'Not to me, you idiot. No point in apologizing for who you are and always will be, is there?' She paused to examine the narrow blade of her rapier, scowled at a nick near the inside edge a hand's span from the tip, and glanced back at the Grey Swords recruit who was still in the circle and awaiting a new opponent. 'Damn woman's green, but a fast learner. Your apology, oaf, should be made to Master Keruli-'

'Not my master any longer.'

'He saved our skins, Gruntle, including your worthless hide.'

Crossing his arms, Gruntle raised a brow. 'Oh, and how did he manage that? Blacking out at the first rush — funny, I didn't see any lightning and conflagration from his Elder God, his nasty Lord-'

'We all went down, you fool. We were done for. But that priest plucked our souls away — as far as those K'Chain Che'Malle could sense, we were dead. Don't you remember dreaming? Dreaming! Pulled right into that Elder God's own warren. I recall every detail-'

'I guess I was too busy dying for real,' Gruntle snapped.

'Yes, you were, and Keruli saved you from that, too. Ungracious pig. One moment I was getting tossed around by a K'Chain Che'Malle, the next I woke up … somewhere else. with a huge ghost wolf standing over me. And I knew — knew instantly, Gruntle, that nothing was getting past that wolf. It was standing guard. over me.'

'Some kind of servant of the Elder God?'

'No, he doesn't have any servants. What he has is friends. I don't know about you, but knowing that — realizing it as I did there with that giant wolf — well, a god that finds friends instead of mindless worshippers … dammit, I'm his, Gruntle, body and soul. And I'll fight for him, because I know he'll fight for me. Horrible Elder Gods, bah! I'll take him over those snarling bickering fools with their temples and coffers and rituals any day.'

Gruntle stared at her, disbelieving. 'I must still be hallucinating,' he muttered.

'Never mind me,' Stonny said, sliding her rapier into its scabbard. 'Keruli and his Elder God saved your life, Gruntle. So we're now going to him, and you're going to apologize and if you're smart you're going to pledge to stand with him, in all that's to come-'

'Like Hood I am. Oh, sure, I'll say sorry and all that, but I don't want anything to do with any gods, Elder or otherwise, and that includes their priests-'

'I knew you weren't smart but I had to offer anyway. Let's go, then. Where's Buke disappeared to?'

'Not sure. He was just, uh, delivering me.'

'The Elder God saved him, too. And Mancy. Hood knows those two necromancers didn't give a damn whether they lived or died. If he's smart, he'll quit that contract.'

'Well, none of us are as smart as you, Stonny.'

'Don't I know it.'

They left the compound. Gruntle was still feeling the effects of the last few days, but with a belly full of food instead of wine and ale and the momentary but efficacious attention of the Grey Sword priest, Karnadas, he found his walk steadier and the pain behind his eyes had faded to a dull ache. He had to lengthen his stride to keep up with Stonny's habitual march. Even as her beauty attracted attention, her relentless pace and dark glare ensured a clear path through any crowd, and Capustan's few, cowed citizens scurried quicker than most to get out of her way.

They skirted the cemetery, the upright clay coffin-boles passing on their left. Another necropolis lay just ahead, evincing the Daru style of crypts and urns that Gruntle knew well from Darujhistan, and Stonny angled their route slightly to its left, taking the narrow, uneven passageway between the necropolis's low-walled grounds and the outer edge of the Tura'l Concourse. Twenty paces ahead was a smaller square, which they traversed before reaching the eastern edge of the Temple District.

Gruntle had had enough of stumbling in Stonny's wake like a dog in tow. 'Listen,' he growled, 'I just came from this quarter. If Keruli's camped nearby why didn't you just come to get me and save me the walk?'

'I did come to get you, but you stank like a pauper-tavern's piss pit. Is that how you wanted to show yourself to Master Keruli? You needed cleaning up, and food, and I wasn't going to baby you through all that.'

Gruntle subsided, muttering under his breath. Gods, I wish the world was full of passive, mewling women. He thought about that a moment longer, then scowled. On second thoughts, what a nightmare that'd be. It's the job of a man to fan the spark into flames, not quench it …

'Get that dreamy look off your face,' Stonny snapped. 'We're here.'

Blinking, Gruntle sighed, then stared at the small, dilapidated building before them — plain, pitted stone blocks, covered here and there by old plaster; a flat, beamed roof, the ancient wood sagging; and a doorway that he and Stonny would have to crouch to pass through. 'This is it? Hood's breath, this is pathetic.'

'He's a modest man,' Stonny drawled, hands on hips. 'His Elder God's not one for pomp and ceremony. Anyway, with its recent history, it went cheap.'

'History?'

Stonny frowned. 'Takes spilled blood to sanctify the Elder God's holy ground. A whole family committed suicide in this house, less than a week past. Keruli was …'