The secretary sat as he had earlier that day, working on what seemed to Bugg to be the same ledger. Once again, he did not bother looking up. ‘You’re early. I was expecting punctual.’
‘We’re not early,’ Tehol said.
‘You’re not?’
‘No, but since the bell is already sounding, any more from you and we’ll be late.’
‘I’m not to blame. Never was at any point in this ridiculous conversation. Up the stairs. To the top. There’s only one door. Knock once then enter, and Errant help you. Oh, and the manservant can stay here, provided he doesn’t poke me in the eyes again.’
‘He’s not staying here.’
‘He’s not?’
‘No.’
‘Fine, then. Get out of my sight, the both of you.’
Tehol led the way past the desk and they began their ascent.
‘You poked him in the eyes?’ Tehol asked.
‘I judged it useful in getting his attention.’
‘I’m pleased, although somewhat alarmed.’
‘The circumstances warranted extreme action on my part.’
‘Does that happen often?’
‘I’m afraid it does.’
They reached the landing. Tehol stepped forward and thumped on the door. A final glance back at Bugg, suspicious and gauging, then he swung open the door. They strode into the chamber beyond.
In which rats swarmed. Covering the floor. The tabletop. On the shelves, clambering on the crystal chandelier. Crouched on the shoulders and peering from folds in the clothes of the six board members seated on the other side of the table.
Thousands of beady eyes fixed on Tehol and Bugg, including those of the three men and three women who were the heart of the Rat Catchers’ Guild.
Tehol hitched up his trousers. ‘Thank you one and all—’
‘You’re Tehol Beddict,’ cut in the woman seated on the far left. She was mostly a collection of spherical shapes, face, head, torso, breasts, her eyes tiny, dark and glittering like hardened tar. There were at least three rats in her mass of upright, billowed black hair.
‘And I’m curious,’ Tehol said, smiling. ‘What are all these rats doing here?’
‘Insane question,’ snapped the man beside the roundish woman. ‘We’re the Rat Catchers’ Guild. Where else are we supposed to put the ones we capture?’
‘I thought you killed them.’
‘Only if they refuse avowal,’ the man said, punctuating his words with a sneer for some unexplainable reason.
‘Avowal? How do rats make vows?’
‘None of your business,’ the woman said. ‘I am Onyx. Beside me sits Scint. In order proceeding accordingly, before you sits Champion Ormly, Glisten, Bubyrd and Ruby. Tehol Beddict, we suffered losses on our investments thanks to you.’
‘From which you have no doubt recovered.’
‘That’s not the point!’ said the woman called Glisten. She was blonde, and so slight and small that only her shoulders and head were above the level of the tabletop. Heaps of squirming rats passed in front of her every now and then, forcing her to bob her head up to maintain eye contact.
‘By my recollection,’ Tehol said reasonably, ‘you lost a little less than half a peak.’
‘How do you know that?’ Scint demanded. ‘Nobody else but us knows that!’
‘A guess, I assure you. In any case, the contract I offer will be for an identical amount.’
‘Half a peak!’
Tehol’s smile broadened. ‘Ah, I have your fullest attention now. Excellent.’
‘That’s an absurd amount,’ spoke Ormly for the first time. ‘What would you have us do, conquer Kolanse?’
‘Could you?’
Ormly scowled. ‘Why would you want us to, Tehol Beddict?’
‘It’d be difficult,’ Glisten said worriedly. ‘The strain on our human resources—’
‘Difficult,’ cut in Scint, ‘but not impossible. We’d need to recruit from our island cells—’
‘Wait!’ Tehol said. ‘I’m not interested in conquering Kolanse!’
‘You’re the type who’s always changing his mind,’ Onyx said. She leaned back and with a squeak a rat plummeted from her hair to thump on the floor somewhere behind her. ‘I can’t stand working with people like that.’
‘I haven’t changed my mind. It wasn’t me who brought up the whole Kolanse thing. In fact, it was Champion Ormly—’
‘Well, he can’t make up his mind neither. You two are made for each other.’
Tehol swung to Bugg. ‘I’m not indecisive, am I? Tell them, Bugg. When have you ever seen me indecisive?’
Bugg frowned.
‘Bugg!’
‘I’m thinking!’
Glisten’s voice came from behind a particularly large heap of rats. ‘I can’t see the point of any of this.’
‘That’s quite understandable,’ Tehol said evenly.
‘Describe your contract offer,’ Ormly demanded. ‘But he advised, we don’t do private functions.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘I won’t waste my breath on explaining…unless it turns out to be relevant. Is it?’
‘I don’t know. How can I tell?’
‘Well, that’s my point exactly. Now, about the contract?’
‘All right,’ Tehol said, ‘but be warned, it’s complicated.’
Glisten’s plaintive voice: ‘Oh, I don’t like the sound of that!’
Tehol made an effort to see her, then gave up. The mound of rats on the tabletop in front of her was milling. ‘You surprise me, Glisten,’ he said. ‘It strikes me that the Rat Catchers’ Guild thrives on complications. After all, you do much more than, uh, harvest rats, don’t you? In fact, your primary function is as the unofficial assassins’ guild—unofficial because, of course, it’s an outlawed activity and unpleasant besides. You’re also something of a thieves’ guild, too, although you’ve yet to achieve full compliance among the more independent-minded thieves. You also provide an unusually noble function in your unofficial underground escape route for impoverished refugees from assimilated border tribes. And then there’s the—’
‘Stop!’ Onyx shrieked. In a slightly less shrill tone she said, ‘Bubyrd, get our Chief Investigator in here. Errant knows, if anyone needs investigating, it’s this Tehol Beddict.’
Tehol’s brows rose. ‘Will that be painful?’
Onyx leered and whispered, ‘Restrain your impatience, Tehol Beddict. You’ll get an answer to that soon enough.’
‘Is it wise to threaten a potential employer?’
‘I don’t see why not,’ Onyx replied.
‘Your knowledge of our operations is alarming,’ Ormly said. ‘We don’t like it.’
‘I assure you, I have only admiration for your endeavours. In fact, my contract offer is dependent upon the fullest range of the guild’s activities. I could not make it without prior knowledge, could I?’
‘How do we know?’ Ormly asked. ‘We’ve yet to hear it.’
‘I’m getting there.’
The door behind them opened and the woman who was in all likelihood the Chief Investigator strode in past Tehol and Bugg. Stepping carefully, she took position on the far right of the table, arms crossing as she leaned against the wall.
Onyx spoke. ‘Chief Investigator Rucket, we have in our presence a dangerous liability.’
The woman, tall, lithe, her reddish hair cut short, was dressed in pale leathers, the clothing South Nerek in style, as if she had just come from the steppes. Although, of course, the nearest steppes were a hundred or more leagues to the east. She appeared to be unarmed. Her eyes, a startling tawny shade that looked more feline than human, slowly fixed on Tehol. ‘Him?’
‘Who else?’ Onyx snapped. ‘Not his manservant, surely!’
‘Why not?’ Rucket drawled. ‘He looks to be the more dangerous one.’
‘I’d agree,’ Bubyrd said in a hiss. ‘He poked my secretary in the eyes.’
Scint started. ‘
Really? Just like that?’ He held up a hand and stretched out the first two fingers, then jabbed the air. ‘Like that? Poke! Like that?’
‘Yes,’ Bubyrd replied, glaring at Bugg. ‘He revealed the illusion! What’s the point of creating illusions when he just ups and pokes holes in them!’
Tehol swung to his manservant. ‘Bugg, are we going to get out of here alive?’
‘Hard to say, master.’
‘All because you poked that secretary in the eyes?’
Bugg shrugged.
‘Touchy, aren’t they?’
‘So it seems, master. Best get on with the offer, don’t you think?’
‘Good idea. Diversion, yes indeed.’
‘You idiots,’ Onyx said. ‘We can hear you!’
‘Excellent!’ Tehol stepped forward, carefully, so as to avoid crushing the seething carpet of rats. Gentle nudging aside with the toe of his moccasin seemed to suffice. ‘To wit. I need every tribal refugee in the city ushered out. Destination? The islands. Particular islands, details forthcoming. I need full resources shipped ahead of them, said supplies to be purchased by myself. You will work with Bugg here on the logistics. Second, I understand you are conducting an investigation into disappearances for the Crown. No doubt you’re telling them nothing of your findings. I, on the other hand, want to know those findings. Third, I want my back protected. In a short while, there will be people who will want to kill me. You are to stop them. Thus, my contract offer. Half a peak and a list of safe investments, and as to that last point, I suggest you follow my financial advice to the letter and swallow the expense—’
‘You want to be our financial adviser?’ Onyx asked in clear disbelief. ‘Those losses—’
‘Could have been avoided, had we been engaged in a closer relationship back then, such as the one we are about to enter into.’
‘What about those refugees who are Indebted?’ Ormly asked. ‘Having them all disappear could cause another crash in the Tolls.’
‘It won’t, because the trickle is to be so slow that no-one notices—’
‘How could they not notice?’
‘They will be…distracted.’
‘You’ve got something ugly planned, haven’t you, Tehol Beddict?’ Ormly’s small eyes glittered. ‘Meaning what happened the first time wasn’t no accident. Wasn’t incompetence neither. You just found yourself with a string in your hand, which you then tugged to see how much would unravel. You know what you’re telling us? You’re telling us you’re the most dangerous man in Lether. Why would we ever let you walk out of this chamber?’
‘Simple. This time I’m taking my friends with me. So the question is, are you my friends?’
‘And what if our Chief Investigator investigates you right here and right now?’
‘My scheme is already under way, Champion Ormly, whether I stay alive or not. It’s going to happen. Of course, if I die, then nobody escapes what’s coming.’
‘Hold on,’ Onyx said. ‘You said something about expense. You becoming our financial adviser is going to cost us?’
‘Well, naturally.’
‘How much?’
‘A quarter of a peak or thereabouts.’
‘So you pay us half and we pay you back a quarter.’
‘And so you come out ahead.’
‘He’s got a point,’ Scint said, snatching a rat from the table and biting its head off.
Everyone stared, including a roomful of rats.
Scint noticed, chewed for a moment, making crunching sounds, then said around a mouthful of rat head, ‘Sorry. Got carried away.’ He looked down at the headless corpse in his hand, then tucked it into his shirt and out of sight.
From where Glisten sat came a plaintive sound, then, ‘What did that rat ever do to you, Scinty?’
Scint swallowed. ‘I said sorry!’
Tehol leaned close to Bugg and whispered, ‘If you could poke any of them in the eyes…’
‘Three of ’em would likely complain, master.’
‘Can I guess?’
‘Go ahead.’
‘Ormly, Bubyrd and Rucket.’
‘I’m impressed.’
‘What are you two whispering about?’ Onyx demanded.
Tehol smiled at her. ‘Do you accept my offer?’
Brys found the Ceda in his work room, hunched over an upended crab lying on the table. He had removed the flat carapace covering the underside and was prodding organs with a pair of copper probes. The crab appeared to be dead.
Burners had been lit beneath a cauldron behind Kuru Qan, and the lid was rocking to gusts of steam.
‘Finadd, this array of organs is fascinating. But I’m distracting myself. Shouldn’t do that, not at this critical juncture.’ He set the instruments down and picked up the crab. ‘What have you to tell me?’
Brys watched the Ceda nudge the cauldron’s lid aside then drop the crab in. ‘The Azath tower is dead.’
Kuru Qan pushed the lid back into place then walked back to sit in his chair. He rubbed at his eyes. ‘What physical evidence is there?’
‘Little, admittedly. But a child is resident there, on the grounds,’ Brys replied. ‘The tower was in some sort of communication with her.’
‘The role of Keeper? Odd that the Hold should choose a child. Unless the original Keeper had died. And even then…odd.’
‘There is more,’ Brys said. ‘A resident within one of the barrows was accorded the role of protector. The child, Kettle, believes that person is capable of destroying the others—all of whom are close to escaping their prisons.’
‘The Hold, in its desperation, made a bargain, then. What else does this Kettle know of that resident?’
‘He speaks to her constantly. He speaks through her, as well. At the moment, he is trapped. He can go no further, and no, I don’t know how that situation will be resolved. Ceda, I also spoke to that stranger.’
Kuru Qan looked up. ‘He reached into your mind? And showed you what?’
Brys shook his head. ‘He made no effort to convince me of anything, Ceda. Voiced no arguments in his own defence. Instead, I was made witness to an event, from long ago, I believe.’
‘What kind of event?’
‘The bringing down of a god. By a cadre of sorcerors, none of whom survived the ritual.’
Kuru Qan’s eyes widened at these words. ‘Relevant? Errant bless me, I hope not.’
‘You have knowledge of this, Ceda?’
‘Not enough, Finadd, I’m afraid. And this stranger was witness to that dire scene?’
‘He was. Inadvertently, he said.’
‘Then he has lived a very long time.’
‘Is he a threat?’
‘Of course he is. None here could match his power, I would think. And, assuming he is successful in destroying the other residents of the yard, the question one must face is, what then?’
‘It strikes me as a huge assumption, Ceda. Killing the others. Why would he hold to his bargain with a now-dead Azath?’
‘One must believe that the Hold chose wisely, Finadd. Do you have doubts?’
‘I’m not sure. He has asked for weapons. Two swords. I am inclined to accede to his request.’
The Ceda slowly nodded. ‘Agreed. No doubt you were thinking of finding something in the armoury. But for an individual such as this, a normal weapon won’t do, even one of Letherii steel. No, we must go to my private hoard.’
‘I wasn’t aware you had one.’
‘Naturally. Now, a moment.’ Kuru Qan rose and walked back to the cauldron. Using large tongs, he retrieved the crab, the shell now a fiery red. ‘Ah, perfect. Of course, it can cool down some. So, follow me.’
Brys had thought he knew virtually every area of the old palace, but the series of subterranean chambers the Ceda led him into were completely unfamiliar to him, although not a single hidden door was passed through on the way. By the Finadd’s internal map, they were now under the river.
They entered a low-ceilinged chamber with rack-line
d walls on which were hundreds of weapons. Brys had collected a lantern along the way and he now hung it from a hook in a crossbeam. He walked to a rack crowded with swords. ‘Why a private collection, Ceda?’
‘Curios, most of them. Some antiques. I am fascinated with forging techniques, particularly those used by foreign peoples. Also, there is sorcery invested in these weapons.’
‘All of them?’ Brys lifted one particular weapon from its hooks, a close match to the description relayed to him by Kettle.
‘Yes. No, put that one back, Finadd. It’s cursed.’
Brys replaced it.
‘In fact,’ Kuru Qan went on in a troubled voice, ‘they’re all cursed. Well, this could prove a problem.’
‘Perhaps I should go to the regular armoury—’
‘Patience, Finadd. It’s the nature of curses that allows us to possibly find a reasonable solution. Two swords, you said?’
‘Why would sorcerors curse a weapon?’
‘Oh, most often not an intentional act on their parts. Often it’s simply a matter of incompetence. In many cases, the sorcerous investment refuses to function. The iron resists the imposition, and the better the forging technique the more resistant the weapon is. Sorcery thrives on flaws, whether structural in the physical sense, or metaphorical in the thematic sense. Ah, I see your eyes glazing over, Finadd. Never mind. Let’s peruse the antiques, shall we?’
The Ceda led him to the far wall, and Brys immediately saw a perfect weapon, long and narrow of blade, pointed and double-edged, modest hilt. ‘Letherii steel,’ he said, reaching for it.
‘Yes, in the Blue Style, which, as you well know, is the very earliest technique for Letherii steel. In some ways, the Blue Style produces finer steel than our present methods. The drawbacks lie in other areas.’
Brys tested the weight of the weapon. ‘The pommel needs to be replaced, but otherwise…’ Then he looked up. ‘But it’s cursed?’
‘Only in so far as all Blue Style weapons are cursed. As you know, the blade’s core is twisted wire, five braids of sixty strands each. Five bars are fused to that core to produce the breadth and edge. Blue Style is very flexible, almost unbreakable, with one drawback. Finadd, touch the blade to any other here. Lightly, please. Go ahead.’
The Complete Malazan Book of the Fallen Page 412
