The assassin noted a small group of soldiers near the centre of the half-ring where it seemed the orders were coming from. One man in particular, accoutred in the armour of a Malazan lieutenant, stood with hands on hips and was busy haranguing a half-dozen sappers.
The workmen wandered off a moment before Kalam arrived, desultorily making for the towers.
The lieutenant noticed him. Dark eyes narrowed beneath the rim of the helm. There was a crest on that skullcap. Ashok Regiment.
Stationed in Genabaris a few years past. Then sent back to… Ehrlitan, I think. Hood rot the bastards, I’d have thought they would have stayed loyal.
‘Come to see the last of them get their throats cut?’ the lieutenant asked with a hard grin. ‘Good. You’ve the look of an organized and experienced man, and Beru knows, I’ve far too few of them here in this mob. Your name?’
‘Ulfas,’ Kalam replied.
‘Sounds Barghast.’
The assassin shrugged as he set down his pack. ‘You’re not the first to think that.’
‘You will address me as sir . That’s if you want to be part of this fight.’
‘You’re not the first to think that… sir.’
‘I am Captain Irriz.’
Captain … in a lieutenant’s uniform. Felt unappreciated in the regiment, did you ? ‘When does the assault begin, sir?’
‘Eager? Good. Tomorrow at dawn. There’s only a handful left up there. It shouldn’t take long once we breach the balcony entrance.’
Kalam looked up at the fortress. The balcony was little more than a projecting ledge, the doorway beyond narrower than a man’s shoulders. ‘They only need a handful,’ he muttered, then added, ‘sir.’
Irriz scowled. ‘You just walked in and you’re already an expert?’
‘Sorry, sir. Simply an observation.’
‘Well, we’ve a mage just arrived. Says she can knock a hole where that door is. A big hole. Ah, here she comes now.’
The woman approaching was young, slight and pallid. And Malazan. Ten paces away, her steps faltered, then she halted, light brown eyes fixing now on Kalam. ‘Keep that weapon sheathed when you’re near me,’ she drawled. ‘Irriz, get that bastard to stand well away from us.’
‘Sinn? What’s wrong with him?’
‘Wrong? Nothing, probably. But one of his knives is an otataral weapon.’
The sudden avarice in the captain’s eyes as he studied Kalam sent a faint chill through the assassin. ‘Indeed. And where did you come by that, Ulfas?’
‘Took it from the Wickan I killed. On the Chain of Dogs.’
There was sudden silence. Faces turned to regard Kalam anew. Doubt flickered onto Irriz’s face. ‘You were there?’
‘Aye. What of it?’
There were hand gestures all round, whispered prayers. The chill within Kalam grew suddenly colder. Gods, they’re voicing blessings… but not on me. They’re blessing the Chain of Dogs. What truly happened there, for this to have been born ?
‘Why are you not with Sha’ik, then?’ Irriz demanded. ‘Why would Korbolo have let you leave?’
‘Because,’ Sinn snapped, ‘Korbolo Dom is an idiot, and Kamist Reloe even worse. Personally, I am amazed he didn’t lose half his army after the Fall. What true soldier would stomach what happened there? Ulfas, is it? You deserted Korbolo’s Dogslayers, yes?’
Kalam simply shrugged. ‘I went looking for a cleaner fight.’
Her laugh was shrill, and she spun in mocking pirouette in the dust. ‘And you came here? Oh, you fool! That’s so funny! It makes me want to scream, it’s so funny!’
Her mind is broken . ‘I see nothing amusing in killing,’ he replied. ‘Though I find it odd that you are here, seemingly so eager to kill fellow Malazans.’
Her face darkened. ‘My reasons are my own, Ulfas. Irriz, I would speak with you in private. Come.’
Kalam held his expression impassive as the captain flinched at the imperious tone. Then the renegade officer nodded. ‘I will join you in a moment, Sinn.’ He turned back to the assassin. ‘Ulfas. We want to take most of them alive, to give us sport. Punishment for being so stubborn. I especially want their commander. He is named Kindly-’
‘Do you know him, sir?’
Irriz grinned. ‘I was 3rd Company in the Ashok. Kindly leads the 2nd.’ He gestured at the fortress. ‘Or what’s left of it. This is a personal argument for me, and that is why I intend to win. And it’s why I want those bastards alive. Wounded and disarmed.’
