Read Online A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 1 by Steven Erikson - Free Book Online
Authors: Steven Erikson
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Lieutenant. Please, sit.'
He looked around, found a chair and slumped gratefully into it. 'The trail's been thoroughly obscured, Adjunct. The only people left in Gerrom aren't likely to talk.'
She fastened the last of the clasps. 'Unless I were to send a necromancer.'
He grunted. 'Tales of pigeons – I think the possibility was foreseen.'
She regarded him with a raised brow.
'Pardon, Adjunct. It seems that death's heralds were ... birds.'
'And were we to glance through the eyes of the dead soldiers, we would see little else. Pigeons, you said?'
He nodded.
'Curious.' She fell silent.
He watched her for a moment longer. 'Was I bait, Adjunct?'
'No.'
'And Topper's timely arrival?'
'Convenience.'
He fell silent. When he closed his eyes his head spun. He'd not realized how weary he'd become. It was a moment before he understood that she was speaking to him. He shook himself, straightened.
The Adjunct stood before him. 'Sleep later, not now, Lieutenant. I was informing you of your future. It would be well if you paid attention. You completed your task as instructed. Indeed, you have proved yourself highly ... resilient. To all outward appearances, I am done with you, Lieutenant. You will be returned to the Officer Corps here in Unta. What will follow will be a number of postings, completing your official training. As for your time in Itko Kan, nothing unusual occurred there, do you understand me?'
'Yes.'
'Good.'
'And what of what really happened there, Adjunct? Do we abandon pursuit? Do we resign ourselves to never knowing exactly what happened, or why? Or is it simply me who is to be abandoned?'
'Lieutenant, this is a trail we must not follow too closely, but follow it we shall, and you will be central to the effort. I have assumed – perhaps in error – that you would wish to see it through, to be witness when the time for vengeance finally arrives. Was I wrong? Perhaps you've seen enough and seek only a return to normality.'
He closed his eyes. 'Adjunct, I would be there when the time came.'
She was silent and he knew without opening his eyes that she was studying him, gauging his worth. He was beyond unease and beyond caring. He'd stated his desire; the decision was hers.
'We proceed slowly. Your reassignment will take effect in a few days' time. In the meanwhile, go home to your father's estate. Get some rest.'
He opened his eyes and rose to his feet. As he reached the doorway she spoke again. 'Lieutenant, I trust you won't repeat the scene in the Hall of the Throne.'
'I doubt I'd earn as many laughs the second time around, Adjunct.'
As he reached the stairs he heard what might have been a cough from the room behind him. It was hard to imagine that it could have been anything else.
As he led his horse through the streets of Unta he felt numb inside. The familiar sights, the teeming, interminable crowds, the voices and clash of languages all struck Paran as something strange, something altered, not before his eyes but in that unknowable place between his eyes and his thoughts. The change was his alone, and it made him feel shorn, outcast.
Yet the place was the same: the scenes before him were as they always had been and even in watching it pass by all around him, nothing had changed. It was the gift of noble blood that kept the world at a distance, to be observed from a position unsullied, unjostled by the commonry. Gift ... and curse.
Now, however, Paran walked among them without the family guards. The power of blood was gone, and all he possessed by way of armour was the uniform he now wore. Not a craftsman, not a hawker, not a merchant, but a soldier. A weapon of the Empire, and the Empire had those in the tens of thousands.
He passed through Toll Ramp Gate and made his way along Marble Slope Road, where the first merchant estates appeared, pushed back from the cobbled street, half hidden by courtyard walls. The foliage of gardens joined their lively colours with brightly painted walls; the
He looked around, found a chair and slumped gratefully into it. 'The trail's been thoroughly obscured, Adjunct. The only people left in Gerrom aren't likely to talk.'
She fastened the last of the clasps. 'Unless I were to send a necromancer.'
He grunted. 'Tales of pigeons – I think the possibility was foreseen.'
She regarded him with a raised brow.
'Pardon, Adjunct. It seems that death's heralds were ... birds.'
'And were we to glance through the eyes of the dead soldiers, we would see little else. Pigeons, you said?'
He nodded.
'Curious.' She fell silent.
He watched her for a moment longer. 'Was I bait, Adjunct?'
'No.'
'And Topper's timely arrival?'
'Convenience.'
He fell silent. When he closed his eyes his head spun. He'd not realized how weary he'd become. It was a moment before he understood that she was speaking to him. He shook himself, straightened.
The Adjunct stood before him. 'Sleep later, not now, Lieutenant. I was informing you of your future. It would be well if you paid attention. You completed your task as instructed. Indeed, you have proved yourself highly ... resilient. To all outward appearances, I am done with you, Lieutenant. You will be returned to the Officer Corps here in Unta. What will follow will be a number of postings, completing your official training. As for your time in Itko Kan, nothing unusual occurred there, do you understand me?'
'Yes.'
'Good.'
'And what of what really happened there, Adjunct? Do we abandon pursuit? Do we resign ourselves to never knowing exactly what happened, or why? Or is it simply me who is to be abandoned?'
'Lieutenant, this is a trail we must not follow too closely, but follow it we shall, and you will be central to the effort. I have assumed – perhaps in error – that you would wish to see it through, to be witness when the time for vengeance finally arrives. Was I wrong? Perhaps you've seen enough and seek only a return to normality.'
He closed his eyes. 'Adjunct, I would be there when the time came.'
She was silent and he knew without opening his eyes that she was studying him, gauging his worth. He was beyond unease and beyond caring. He'd stated his desire; the decision was hers.
'We proceed slowly. Your reassignment will take effect in a few days' time. In the meanwhile, go home to your father's estate. Get some rest.'
He opened his eyes and rose to his feet. As he reached the doorway she spoke again. 'Lieutenant, I trust you won't repeat the scene in the Hall of the Throne.'
'I doubt I'd earn as many laughs the second time around, Adjunct.'
As he reached the stairs he heard what might have been a cough from the room behind him. It was hard to imagine that it could have been anything else.
As he led his horse through the streets of Unta he felt numb inside. The familiar sights, the teeming, interminable crowds, the voices and clash of languages all struck Paran as something strange, something altered, not before his eyes but in that unknowable place between his eyes and his thoughts. The change was his alone, and it made him feel shorn, outcast.
Yet the place was the same: the scenes before him were as they always had been and even in watching it pass by all around him, nothing had changed. It was the gift of noble blood that kept the world at a distance, to be observed from a position unsullied, unjostled by the commonry. Gift ... and curse.
Now, however, Paran walked among them without the family guards. The power of blood was gone, and all he possessed by way of armour was the uniform he now wore. Not a craftsman, not a hawker, not a merchant, but a soldier. A weapon of the Empire, and the Empire had those in the tens of thousands.
He passed through Toll Ramp Gate and made his way along Marble Slope Road, where the first merchant estates appeared, pushed back from the cobbled street, half hidden by courtyard walls. The foliage of gardens joined their lively colours with brightly painted walls; the
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