‘I have thought long on the details of your tale, Spinnock Durav.’ Still Rake did not turn round. ‘Yielding a single question. Must I journey there?’
Spinnock frowned. ‘Assail? Lord, the situation there…’
‘Yes, I understand.’ At last, the Son of Darkness slowly swung about, and it seemed his eyes had stolen something from the crystal window, flaring then dimming like a memory. ‘Soon, then.’
‘Lord, on my last day, a league from the sea…’
‘Yes?’
‘I lost count of those I killed to reach that desolate strand. Lord, by the time I waded into the deep, enough to vanish beneath the waves, the very bay was crimson. That I lived at all in the face of that is-’
‘Unsurprising,’ Anomander Rake cut in with a faint smile, ’as far as your Lord is concerned.’ The smile faded. ‘Ah, but I have sorely abused your skills, friend.’
Spinnock could not help but cock his head and say, ‘And so, I am given leave to wield soldiers of wood and stone on a wine-stained table? Day after day, my muscles growing soft, the ambition draining away.’
‘Is this what you call a well-earned rest?’
‘Some nights are worse than others, Lord,’
‘To hear you speak of ambition, Spinnock, recalls to my mind another place, long, long ago, You and I,,’
‘Where I learned, at last,’ Spinnock said, with no bitterness at all, ‘my destiny.’
‘Unseen by anyone. Deeds unwitnessed. Heroic efforts earning naught but one man’s gratitude.’
‘A weapon must be used, Lord, lest it rust.’
‘A weapon overused, Spinnock, grows blunt, notched.’
To that, the burly Tiste Andii bowed. ‘Perhaps, then, Lord, such a weapon must be put away. A new one found.’
‘That time is yet to arrive, Spinnock Durav.’
Spinnock bowed again. ‘There is, in my opinion, Lord, no time in the foreseeable future when you must journey to Assail. The madness there seems quite… self-contained.’
Anomander Rake studied Spinnock’s face for a time, then nodded. ‘Play on, my friend. See the king through. Until…’ and he turned once more back to the crystal window.
There was no need to voice the completion of that sentence, Spinnock well knew. He bowed a third time, then walked from the chamber, closing the door behind him.
Endest Silann was slowly hobbling up the corridor. At Spinnock’s appearance the old castellan glanced up. ‘Ah,’ he said, ’is our Lord within?’
‘He is.’
The elder Tiste Andii’s answering smile was no gift to Spinnock, so strained was it, a thing of sorrow and shame. And while perhaps Endest had earned the right to the first sentiment-a once powerful mage now broken-he had not to the second. Yet what could Spinnock say that might ease that burden? Nothing that would not sound trite. Perhaps something more… acerbic, something to challenge that self-pity-
‘I must speak to him,’ Endest said, reaching for the door.
‘He will welcome that,’ Spinnock managed.
Again the smile. ‘I am sure.’ A pause, a glance up into Spinnock’s eyes. ‘I have great news.’
‘Yes?’
Endest Silann lifted the latch. ‘Yes. I have found a new supplier of cadaver eels.’
‘Lord of this, Son of that, it’s no matter, izzit?’ The man peeled the last of the rind from the fruit with his thumb-knife, then flung it out on to the cobbles. ‘Point is,’ he continued to his companions, ‘he ain’t even human, is he? Just another of ’em hoary black-skinned demons, as dead-eyed as all the rest.’
‘Big on husking the world, aren’t ya?’ the second man at the table said, winking across at the third man, who’d yet to say a thing.
‘Big on lotsa things, you better believe it,’ the first man muttered, now cutting slices of the fruit and lifting each one to his mouth balanced on the blade.
The waiter drew close at that moment to edge up the wick in the lantern on the table, then vanished into the gloom once more.
The three were seated at one of the new street-side restaurants, although ‘restaurant’ was perhaps too noble a word for this rough line of tables and unmatched wooden chairs. The kitchen was little more than a converted cart and a stretch of canvas roof beneath which a family laboured round a grill that had once been a horse trough.
Of the four tables, three were occupied. All humans-the Tiste Andii were not wont to take meals in public, much less engage in idle chatter over steaming mugs of Bastion kelyk, a pungent brew growing in popularity in Black Coral.
