'We are her match, and better,' said Corabb, straightening, chest swelling. 'Our spears and swords have already drawn their foul Malazan blood, and shall do so again. More of it, much more.'

'That blood,' she said after a moment, 'is as red as yours, warrior.'

'Is it? Seems to me,' he continued, looking out upon the city once more, 'that betrayal is a dark taint upon it, to so easily twist one of its own into switching sides.'

'As with, for example, the Red Blades?'

'Corrupted fools!'

'Of course. Yet… Seven Cities born, yes?'

'They have severed their own roots and now flow on the Malazan tide.'

'Nice image, Corabb. You do stumble on those often, don't you?'

'You'd be amazed at the things I stumble on, woman. And I will tell you this, I guard Leoman's back, as I have always done. Nothing has changed that. Not you and your… your-'

'Charms?'

'Wiles. I have marked you, Third, and best you be mindful of that.'

'Leoman has done well to have such a loyal friend.'

'He shall lead the Apocalypse-'

'Oh, he will at that.'

'-for none but he is equal to such a thing. Y'Ghatan shall be a curse name in the Malazan Empire for all time-'

'It already is.'

'Yes, well, it shall be more so.'

'What is it about this city, I wonder, that has driven so deep a knife into the empire? Why did the Claw act here against Dassem Ultor? Why not somewhere else? Somewhere less public, less risky? Oh yes, they made it seem like a wayward accident of battle, but no-one was fooled.

I admit to a fascination with this city, indeed, it is what brought me here in the first place.'

'You are an outlaw. The Empress has a price on your head.'

'She does? Or are you just guessing?'


'I am certain of it. You fight against your own people.'

'My own people. Who are they, Corabb Bhilan Thenu'alas? The Malazan Empire has devoured many peoples, just as it has done those of Seven Cities. Now that the rebellion is over, are your kin now Malazan? No, that thought is incomprehensible to you, isn't it? I was born on Quon Tali, but the Malazan Empire was born on Malaz Island. My people too were conquered, just as yours have been.'

Corabb said nothing, too confused by her words. Malazans were…

Malazans, dammit. All of a kind, no matter the hue of their skin, the tilt of their eyes, no matter all the variations within that Hoodcursed empire. Malazans! 'You will get no sympathy from me, Third.'

'I did not ask for it.'

'Good.'

'Now, will you accompany us?'

Us? Corabb slowly turned. Leoman stood a few paces behind them, arms crossed, leaning against the map-table. In his eyes a sly, amused expression.

'We are going into the city,' Leoman said. 'I wish to visit a certain temple.'

Corabb bowed. 'I shall accompany you, sword at the ready, Warleader.'

Leoman's brows lifted fractionally. 'Warleader. Is there no end of titles you will bestow upon me, Corabb?'

'None, Hand of the Apocalypse.'

He flinched at that honorific, then turned away. A half-dozen officers stood waiting at one end of the long table, and to these warriors, Leoman said, 'Begin the evacuation. And no undue violence! Kill every looter you catch, of course, but quietly. Ensure the protection of families and their possessions, including livestock-'

One of the warriors started. 'But Commander, we shall need-'

'No, we shall not. We have all we need. Besides, those animals are the only wealth most of the refugees will have to take with them. I want escorts on the west road.' He glanced over at Dunsparrow. 'Have the messengers returned from Lothal?'

'Yes, with delighted greetings from the Falah'd.'

'Delighted that I am not marching on to his city, you mean.'

Dunsparrow shrugged.

'And so he is dispatching troops to manage the road?'

'He is, Leoman.'

Ah! She is already beyond titles! Corabb struggled to keep the snarl from his voice. 'He is Warleader to you, Third. Or Commander, or Falah'd-'

'Enough,' cut in Leoman. 'I am pleased enough with my own name to hear it used. From now on, friend Corabb, we shall dispense with titles when only officers are present.'

As I thought, the corruption has begun. He glared at Dunsparrow, but she was paying him no attention, her eyes settled possessively on Leoman of the Flails. Corabb's own gaze narrowed. Leoman the Fallen.



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