‘On what?’ Whiskeyjack demanded, eyes fixing hard on the sapper.
Hedge glanced over at Fiddler. ‘On him, sir.’
And Fiddler knew what he had to say. ‘I let you go long ago, Hedge.’
‘Aye. But that was then and this isn’t. You want me to stay? A few more years, maybe? Till it’s your time, I mean?’
If he spoke at all, Fiddler knew that he would lose control. So he simply nodded.
Hedge faced Whiskeyjack. ‘Not yet, sir. Besides, I was talking with my sergeants just the other day. About buying us a bar, back in Malaz City. Maybe even Smiley’s.’
Fiddler shot the man a glare. ‘But no one can find it, Hedge. Kellanved went and hid it.’
‘Kitty-corner to the Deadhouse, that’s where it is. Everyone knows, Fid.’
‘But they can’t find it, Hedge!’
The man shrugged. ‘I will.’
‘Fiddler,’ Whiskeyjack said. ‘Pay attention now. Our time is almost done here – sun’s soon to rise, and when it does, we will have left this world for the last time.’ He gestured and Mallet stepped forward, carrying a satchel. He crouched down and removed the straps, and then drew out a fiddle. Its body was carved in swirling Barghast patterns. Seeing that, Fiddler looked up at Trotts. The warrior grinned, showing his filed teeth.
‘I did that, Fid. And that mistake there, up near the neck, that was Hedge’s fault. He tugged my braid. Blame him. I do.’
Mallet carefully set the instrument down, placing the bow beside it. The healer glanced up, almost shyly. ‘We all had a hand in its making, Fid. Us Bridgeburners.’
‘Take it,’ ordered Whiskeyjack. ‘Fiddler, you were the best of us all. You still are.’
Fiddler looked over at Quick Ben and Kalam, saw their nods, and then at Hedge, who hesitated, as if to object, and then simply shrugged. Fiddler met Whiskeyjack’s ethereal eyes. ‘Thank you, sir.’
The ghost then surprised him by stepping forward, reaching down and touching the fiddle. Straightening, he walked past them, to stand facing the lowland to the west.
Fiddler stared after him, frowning.
Sighing, Hedge spoke low at his side. ‘She’s out there, sembled now – they’re keeping their distance. They’re not sure what’s happened here. By the time she comes, it’ll be too late.’
‘Who? By the time who comes?’
‘The woman he loves, Fid. Korlat. A Tiste Andii.’
Tiste Andii. Oh … no .
Hedge’s grunt was strained with emotion. ‘Aye, the sergeant’s luck ain’t never been good. He’s got a long wait.’