'Against the Jaghut,' Kallor rasped. His narrow, withered face twisted into a sneer behind the already-drying blood. 'Apart from a handful of Tyrants, the Jaghut were pacifists. Their only crime was to exist-'
Silverfox rounded on the warrior. 'Do not hint at injustices, High King! I possess enough of Nightchill's memories to recall the Imperial Warren — the place you once ruled, Kallor, before the Malazans made claim to it. You laid waste an entire realm — you stripped the life from it, left nothing but ash and charred bones. An entire realm!'
The tall warrior's blood-smeared grin was ghastly. 'Ah, you are there, aren't you. But hiding, I think, twisting the truth into false memories. Hiding, you pathetic, cursed woman!' His smile hardened. 'Then you should know not to test my temper, Bonecaster. Tattersail. Nightchill. dear child. .'
The Mhybe saw her daughter pale. Between these two. the feel of a long enmity — why had I not seen that before? There are old memories here, a link between them. Between my daughter and Kallor — no, between Kallor and one of the souls within her.
After a moment, Silverfox returned her attention to Dujek. 'To answer you, Logros and the clans under his command were entrusted with the task of defending the First Throne. The other armies departed to hunt down the last Jaghut strongholds — the Jaghut had raised barriers of ice. Omtose Phellack is a warren of ice, High Fist, a place deathly cold and almost lifeless. Jaghut sorceries threatened the world. sea levels dropped, whole species died out — every mountain range was a barrier. Ice flowed in white rivers down from the slopes. Ice formed a league deep in places. As mortals, the Imass were scattered, their unity lost. They could not cross such barriers. There was starvation-'
'The war against the Jaghut had begun long before then,' Kallor snapped. 'They sought to defend themselves, and who would not?'
Silverfox simply shrugged. 'As Tellann undead, our armies could cross such barriers. The efforts at eradication proved … costly. You have heard no whispers of those armies because many have been decimated, whilst others perhaps continue the war in distant, inhospitable places.'
There was a pained expression on the High Fist's face. 'The Logros themselves left the empire and disappeared into the Jhag Odhan for a time, and when they returned they were much diminished.'
She nodded.
'Have the Logros answered your call?'
Frowning, the girl said, 'I cannot be certain of that — of any of them. They have heard. All will come if they are able, and I sense the nearness of one army — at least I think I do.'