From his panniers, waist and leggings, he drew together the components of his Malazan-issued heavy crossbow. Since he’d spent years field-stripping and reassembling the weapon, he did not have to look at his hands while crouched behind cover, keeping watch. Orchid remained quiet and didn’t move and because of this he felt better about possibly taking her with him — should he ever manage to get out.
The man came into view at the base of the heaped logs. He paused as if sensing something. Antsy grinned: a canny devil. He shouted down, ‘What do you want?’
The fellow appeared to be considering the climb.
‘Don’t move! We can have us a little chat just like this.’
‘Talk is what I wish.’ The voice was soft and low yet carried easily over the distance. The tone bothered Antsy: much too assured given the situation. He stood up, the crossbow levelled.
‘All right. Talk.’
The man peered up, his hood shadowing his face. ‘That object you showed the fee-collector. I’d like to examine it. I may want to purchase it.’
‘Not for sale.’
‘How about fifty Darujhistani gold councils?’
Antsy raised his gaze from sighting down the stock, considered. ‘I don’t trade with someone who hides his face.’
‘Sorry,’ the man answered, amused. ‘Force of habit.’ He threw back his hood. His face was scrawny and thin, like a cat’s. A small trimmed beard sat on his chin like a smudge of dirt and his black hair hung in thick oiled curls.
A Hood-damned fop. Antsy didn’t like him already. He raised the weapon to rest it on a hip. ‘All right. Back away. I’m coming down.’
Gloved hands out from his sides, the man backed away. Closer, Antsy was struck by the fellow’s wiry leanness, his knife-like slash of a mouth. A cruel mouth, he decided. And small eyes that seemed to glitter like polished obsidian stones.
The fellow pointed to the crossbow. ‘No need for that.’
‘That’s my call and I’ve decided to keep it.’ Raising his voice, he shouted, ‘Orchid! Bring down my bags. Bring them here.’ She carried the bags down and laid them next to him. ‘Careful now, take out the wrapped package there. Set it between us — gently.’
A sideways smile on the man’s mouth seemed to be calling attention to how silly all this was. ‘You’re a careful man, soldier. I want you to know I respect that.’
Antsy didn’t bother answering. Orchid had stopped rummaging and now peered up at him, uncertain. ‘The largest one,’ he told her.
Nodding, she drew out a wrapped packet, set it between them, then backed away. The man knelt, unwrapped and studied the dark green oblong. Without looking up he asked, ‘You are trained in its use, I presume?’
‘Aye.’
The man straightened. ‘Then I would like to hire you for my expedition to the Spawns.’
Orchid’s breath caught.
‘And how many are there on this expedition of yours?’ Antsy asked.
The man smiled again. ‘Two, now.’
‘Three.’
The smile fell away. The man edged his head aside. ‘Three?’
‘The girl here. She’s a trained healer and claims she can read the Andii scribblings.’
‘Really? Read the language? Hardly possible. Let me see you, girl.’
Orchid raised her chin, a touch nervously.
‘You say you can read the Tiste Andii script?’
She nodded.
‘Answer carefully, girl. If I find that you’ve lied, then I’ll leave you out there to die. Do I make myself clear?’
Orchid nodded again, barely. ‘Yes.’
From his demeanour Antsy knew the man would do just that. And so, rather belatedly, he hoped the girl wasn’t overstating her skills.
They returned to Hurly. Antsy made sure the fellow walked ahead all the way. He led them to another of the many inns and taverns that dotted the boom town: the Half Oar. They took a table and the man excused himself to go to his room above.
As soon as he’d left the table Orchid whispered, fierce, ‘I don’t trust him at all.’
Antsy chuckled. ‘Damned good that you don’t.’
‘He’s a killer.’
‘Probably. But is he an honest killer?’
‘How can you joke like that? He makes me shiver.’
Antsy pulled his hands through his tangled hair. ‘Look, you want to get out to the Spawns and he’s willing to take us. One thing you can be sure of — there’ll be a lot more like him out there already. And I get the feeling it’s better he’s with us than against us.’
They ordered tea and shortly after that the man returned. The cloak was gone, revealing a vest of multicoloured patches over a black, billowy-sleeved silk shirt. The black matched his hair, beard and eyes. ‘So,’ Antsy asked, ‘what’s your name?’
‘You can call me Malakai. Yours?’
‘Red.’
Malakai smiled thinly. ‘And the girl is Orchid, I understand,’ he said, his eyes not leaving Antsy’s. ‘An interesting name.’
A serving boy offered vinegared water to drink, then a mid-day meal of roasted waterfowl. They tore the carcasses apart with their hands. ‘We’ll leave on tomorrow’s boat,’ Malakai said. ‘You, Red, will be my guard. And you, Orchid … well, just look imperious.’ The girl seemed to shrink under his gaze. ‘Speak and read the language, do you?’
She straightened her shoulders. ‘Yes.’
‘How came you by this rare gift?’
The girl visibly braced herself, pushed back her unruly mane of hair. She seemed to be taking his questions as some sort of test administered before fifty gold councils were thrown away. ‘I was raised in a temple monastery dedicated to the cult of Elder Night. Kurald Galain, in the ancient tongue. The nuns and priests taught me the language, the rituals and the script.’
‘And are you a talent in that Warren?’
The girl deflated. She shook her head, ‘No. That is … sometimes I feel as if something’s there. But no, I could never summon the Warren.’
Malakai frowned his exaggerated disappointment and Antsy squirmed, uncomfortable with the enjoyment the fellow took in baiting the girl. The man set his chin in his hands. ‘Tell me, then, what you know of the history of Moon’s Spawn.’
Orchid nodded, took a drink of water. Her gaze lost its focus and she spoke slowly, as if parsing some text visible only to her. ‘No one really knows the origins of what we call Moon’s Spawn. It emerged from Elder Night, but what was it before then? Some argue it is the remnant of a K’Chain Che’Malle artefact that ventured into Kurald Galain and was taken by the Andii. Perhaps. Others suggest it was found abandoned and empty deep within the greatest depths of Utter Night. In either case, Anomander Rake brought it into this realm together with a legion of his race, the Tiste Andii, who followed him as he was the son of their sole deity, Mother Dark.’
Antsy gaped his amazement. He’d heard all kinds of legends and tales touching upon these ancient events, but this girl spoke them as if they were the literal truth!
She resumed after another sip. ‘For ages the Spawn floated over the continents, roving everywhere. We know this to be true as it figures in almost every mythology in every land. During these ages its inhabitants rarely involved themselves in human, or Jaghut, or K’Chain affairs. All that changed however with the rise of the Malazan Empire and its ruler, Kellanved. For some reason the Emperor gained Anomander’s enmity. Some suggest a failed assault upon the Spawn by Dancer and Kellanved.’
She shrugged, clearing her throat. ‘In any case, Anomander opposed Malazan expansion here in Genabackis. From that fell out the engagements up north, the siege of Pale, the Spawn’s fracturing and fall, and all the unleashing of Elemental Night at Black Coral.’
Listening to this litany a memory suddenly possessed Antsy: staring up at the dark underside of that suspended mountain while Pale burned below, a city aflame. Then, the ground shuddering, his ears deafened, as all the old Emperor’s High Mages summoned their might against its master …