Dust of Dreams - Page 245/461

Abrastal studied the man. ‘The city behind me has walls and fortifications, Warleader. Your horse-warriors cannot hope to take it. What then is left to you? Why, to ravage the countryside until there is nothing left.’

‘Easier to feed my warriors than for you to feed a city packed with tens of thousands of refugees.’

‘You would seek to starve us out?’

Gall shrugged. ‘Highness, Bolkando has lost this war. If we were so inclined, we could simply take over. Throw you and all of your bloodline into the nearest well and seal it up.’

Abrastal smiled. ‘Oh, dear. Now you show your hut-dwelling roots, Warleader Gall. Before I tell you of the overwhelming logistics of ruling a kingdom whose citizens consider conspiracy a religion, I need to avail you of some other details. Yes, your fleet warriors have given us a great deal of trouble, but we are far from defeated. My Evertine Legion-yes, it belongs to me, not to the King, not to the kingdom-has never been defeated. Indeed, it has never retreated a single step in battle. By all means, fling your braves against our iron wall; we will heap the dead two storeys high around us. But I do not think you will have the chance, alas. Should we come to battle here, Warleader, you will be annihilated. The Khundryl Burned Tears shall have ceased to exist, reduced to a few thousand slaves with quaint tattoos.’

After a moment, Gall hacked up phlegm, turned and spat. Then he wiped his mouth and said, ‘Highness, even as we stand here, your two flanking pincers are being filed down to stumps. Even should we lock jaws with your army, we’ll hardly remain so locked until such time as any other relieving force you manage to cough up arrives.’ He made a dismissive gesture with one scarred hand. ‘This posturing is pointless. How many days away are the Perish? They will take your Evertine Legion and melt it down for all the fancy gold on that armour.’ As she made to speak he held up his hand to forestall her. ‘I have yet to mention the worst you will face-the Bonehunters. Among my people, arguments and opinions are unending as to who are the greatest soldiers the world has ever known-ah, I see in your face that you think we strut about as one of those two, but we do not. No, we speak of the Wickans of Coltaine, versus the marines of the Malazan Empire.’ His teeth appeared in a hard smile. ‘Lucky for you that there are no longer any Wickans among the Bonehunters, but alas, there are plenty of marines.’

A long moment of silence followed his words. Eventually, Abrastal sighed. ‘What are your demands?’

‘We already have enough loot, Highness, so now we’re prepared to sell it back to you-for food, water, livestock and feed. But, for the cost of my warriors killed or maimed in this war, we will pay no more than a third of the true value of those supplies. Once these arrangements are completed to our satisfaction, and once we are reunited with the Perish Grey Helms, we shall leave your kingdom. For ever.’

‘That is it?’

Gall made a face. ‘We don’t want your kingdom. We never did.’

She knew she should feel offended by that, but the time for such indulgences would have to wait. ‘Warleader, understand. The pernicious acts of the merchant houses which led to this war were in themselves abuses of the King’s official policy-’

‘We made certain those thieves were the first to die, Highness.’

‘The ones you killed were but the tip of the poisoned knife.’ She half-turned and nodded to one of her guards. This officer led four other soldiers out from the squad, these ones carrying between them a leather satchel large enough to hold a Khundryl tipi. They set it down and untied the bound corners, and then pulled flat the edges.

A half-dozen bodies were revealed, although not much was left of them.

‘These are the principal agents,’ said Abrastal, ‘believing themselves safely ensconced in the capital. As you can see, only their skins remain-our Punishers are skilled in such matters. Consider them evidence of our acknowledgement of the injustices set upon you. They are yours if you want them.’

Gall’s raptor eyes fixed on her. ‘I am tempted,’ he said slowly, ‘to renege on my avowed lack of interest in taking over your kingdom, if only out of compassion for your people, Highness.’

‘We hold to justice,’ Abrastal snapped, ‘in our own way. I am frankly surprised at your sensitivity, Warleader. The stories I have heard about the habits of savages when it comes to inventing cruel tortures-’

‘Do not apply to us,’ Gall cut in, his voice hard as iron. After a moment he seemed to suddenly relax. ‘Unless we happen to get very angry. In any case, you misunderstood me, Highness. That your kingdom is home to citizens of any stripe who know no self-constraint-no, even worse, that they would treat with foreigners unmindful of the fact that they stand as representatives of their own people-and their kingdom-speaks to me of your self-hatred.’