Stonewielder (92 page)

The scout –
Hood take it, a Claw –
stood. He brushed dust from a sleeve. ‘Can’t let it get personal. Doesn’t do. I can’t go that way.’

‘Fine. Manask?’

The giant picked up a spear. ‘He can’t have gotten far.’

‘Corbin?’

The trooper squeezed Fish’s shoulder. ‘Let me kit up.’

‘Good.’ He went to Squeaky. ‘Take it easy now. We’ll be back. Just …’ The woman was staring, head sunk. Suth brushed a hand down her eyes to close them. He stood. ‘Let’s go.’

In the hall, Suth nodded farewell to Faro, who answered the nod – very slightly – then padded off silently to disappear into the gloom. Suth watched him go, thinking that of all of them, that bastard would win through.

There wasn’t much of a spoor to follow. It was night-dark. Corbin carried their lamp. The Korelri had tramped all through the tunnel, but Suth walked ahead to do the tracking – somehow he’d lost faith in the giant’s skills. It seemed to him they’d been doing nothing more than wandering randomly yesterday. Some tunnels bore a distinct slope and he calculated that Pyke would follow the slope downward, hoping to reach a way out. So it was they retraced some of their way, keeping to the tunnels, always downward.

Distantly, the reports of renewed fighting reached them as reverberations and muted roaring echoed down the tunnels and they would freeze, listening. But it was very far off now. Ahead, down a side tunnel, a bright golden glow spilled out of an opening. Suth edged up to take a quick look. He recoiled immediately. What he’d glimpsed inside made his shoulders slump.

‘Come!’ a voice called, inviting. ‘You are looking for someone, yes?’

Suth leaned his head back against the curved tunnel wall, took a fortifying breath, and stepped in. Corbin and Manask followed. It was the largest of the chambers they’d yet seen. Some sort of rough temple complete with pillars of living stone. Candles and lamps lit the room. Across its centre, in two rows, waited ten Korelri Stormguard. The one at centre front was holding Pyke by the scruff of his neck.

‘This is yours perhaps?’

‘He’s not one of ours any more,’ Suth ground out.

‘Oh? Then you would not mind if I did this?’ The man raised a knife to Pyke’s throat. Pyke struggled furiously, but he was gagged and bound.

Suth frowned a negative. ‘Go ahead. Save us the trouble.’

The Stormguard nodded. ‘Yes. I do not blame you. Do you know that when we caught him he offered to sell you out?’

Suth studied the wriggling fellow. So much for your stupid lone wolf chances, fool. Didn’t come to much, did they? Peering beyond, though, Suth glimpsed the clean white light of day shining in from a side opening.
Damn! Pyke did come across an exit, but the Korelri had it covered. Haven’t missed one trick yet, these bastards
.

Manask, Suth noted, was edging back to the opening.
Good idea
. ‘Do as you like,’ he told the Korelri.

The man dragged the curved blade across Pyke’s throat, bringing forth a great gush of blood that splashed down his front into the dirt before him. His legs spasmed and the Korelri let him fall like a slaughtered animal carcass.

‘Run, my friends,’ Manask told them, and Suth and Corbin darted from the chamber, the giant following. Suth’s last sight was the Korelri waving forward his fellows.

They ran pell-mell through the dim tunnels. Suth’s poor vision caused him to run headlong into some corners. Picking himself up, he saw that Manask was far behind – the giant could hardly run squatting down as he must.

Bloody Hood!
He waved Corbin back, pointed to a narrow cave opening, the cell of an ascetic. ‘Have to do.’ They waited for the giant then backed in. Manask’s great bulk utterly choked the portal.

Suth could not help but laugh, staring as he was at the man’s gigantic padded backside. ‘Manask, this must be your worst nightmare!’

‘Gentlemen,’ he rumbled, ‘I shall be the obstruction which cannot be dislodged!’

‘I’m all choked up,’ Corbin said, laughing.

But Suth lost his smile when he heard the big man grunting and his thick layered armour wrenched from impacts.
Brithan Troop take it! There was nothing they could do but wait for the man to die then be hacked to pieces!

‘Manask! Back in!’

‘No, my friends,’ he gasped, struggling. ‘It would appear that I am truly stuck!’

If not back, then forward!
Suth gestured to the man’s broad padded back. In the near-absolute gloom Corbin’s gleaming sweaty
face showed understanding. The two pressed themselves against the tiny chamber’s far end. ‘One, two—’

An eruption punched the air from his chest and something enormous fell upon him, pinning him to the ground.
Cave-in! Buried alive!
Dust swirled, blinding him and filling his lungs. Groaning sounded from someone else trapped with him – Corbin perhaps.

The dust slowly thinned, and, blinking, Suth saw that the considerable bulk of Manask was lying on him. He struggled to move his arms to edge himself free. Then someone else was there, a skinny form, coughing in the dust as she heaved on the huge fellow. With her help Suth eventually managed to slide free and he stood, brushing dust from himself. The woman was Keri, her bag of munitions across her chest. ‘What are you guys
doing?
’ she demanded, glaring at him as if he’d been off on a drunken binge.

‘Sightseeing,’ Suth growled. He peered down at Manask: the man’s unique armour was ruined, shredded, revealing an unnaturally skinny chest. He knelt to press a hand to the throat – alive, at least. Just stunned. And Corbin? He pulled him out by a leg, slapped his face. The man came to, coughing and hacking. Suth helped him up.

‘What do we do with him?’ Corbin asked.

‘Leave him,’ Keri said. ‘No one’s around. C’mon. The Korelri are regrouping.’ She waved them into the tunnel. ‘Come on!’

Suth reluctantly agreed. He picked up a spear, secured his shield on his back, and cuffed Corbin’s shoulder. They followed Keri up the tunnel.

*    *    *

Corlo lay on the straw-covered ledge that was his bed in his cell deep within Ice Tower. The bars facing the walk rattled as someone set down a wooden platter – dinner.

‘Corlo,’ that someone whispered.

He cracked open an eye: it was Jemain. He sprang to the bars. ‘What are you doing here?’ He peered up and down the empty hall. ‘When did you get here?’

But the skinny Genabackan did not look pleased to see him. He gave a sad shrug. ‘Word is out on Ice Tower. No one wants to come here. Then I got a message, and they were happy to get a volunteer. How are you?’

‘I’m fine! What about you – what word? Who have you found?’

The man positively winced: he looked unhealthy. The cold had
scoured a ruddy rash of chapped skin and cracked bleeding scars. Glancing up the walk, he took hold of the bars with both hands. ‘Corlo … when I saw you in the infirmary you looked so bad … I thought you knew, then.’

Something urged Corlo to back away, to shut the man up. A clawing fear choked his throat. ‘What are you saying?’ he managed.

‘Then, when I found out you didn’t know … well, I’m sorry. I couldn’t bring myself to tell you.’

‘Tell me what? Tell me, damn you! Out with it!’

Jemain backed away, as if frightened. He held his hands to his chest, hugging himself. ‘I’m sorry, Corlo. But … there’s only us. Us two. We are the only ones left.’

‘No! You’re lying! There are others. There must be! I saw Halfpeck!’

Jemain was nodding. ‘Yes, he lasted for a time. But he too died on the wall.’

He too? All the gods damn these Stormguard! Damn them!
Then what he’d promised Bars struck him and he almost fainted.
Queen forgive him, he’d told Bars there were others!

‘I’m sorry,’ Jemain said. ‘I couldn’t bring myself to tell you.’

Corlo fell to his knees. He clasped the bars as if they were the only things keeping him alive. Then he laughed.
Gods, have your laugh! Justice is served, Corlo. How does it taste? It tastes … just. Yes. It tastes just
. He raised his head to regard Jemain, who was watching him with tears on his cheeks. ‘Thank you, Jemain. For telling me. It seems we have come to the end of our lies. We can go no further with them.’

‘You will see Bars?’

‘Yes. He’s on the wall now. I’ll see him later.’

‘What …’ The man wet his lips. ‘What will you tell him?’

‘The truth. What he deserved long ago. The truth.’

‘And then … ?’

Corlo shrugged, unknowing. ‘Then we’ll leave the wall.’
One way, or another
.

‘How will he take it?’

Very poorly, I expect
. ‘Never mind, Jemain. Stay out of his way until I can speak to him, yes?’

The man nodded, rather relieved.

‘Good. And thank you. It’s good to finally know … anyway.’

‘I’m very sorry.’

Corlo urged him on. ‘Yes, I know. Better go.’

A wave goodbye and the man backed down the hall of cells. Corlo watched him go then rested his forehead against the frigid bars.

‘I say you don’t tell him,’ said someone from across the hall.

Corlo started up, a blistering curse on his lips, but something in the bearded, ragged-haired head at the grate opposite stopped him. And the man spoke Talian. ‘You’re Malazan?’

‘Yeah. Tollen’s the name. Listen, there’s some four or five Avowed here in this tower. Enough to take this entire section of wall. And I want to get my fellow veterans out. We need your boy Bars. So don’t say a damned thing.’

Four other Avowed? So Bars had it right! Shell hadn’t come alone
. Corlo was quiet for a time, coming to terms with this proof. Then he snorted. ‘He deserves the truth anyway. And I don’t take directions from some bastard Malazan.’

‘I’m trying to save your damn-fool life, Guardsman!’

Corlo pushed himself from the door.
Save a life! That’s just what I told myself every time I spoke to Bars. I was trying to save his life. Well, lying is no way to do that. Better to be thought a betrayer, a traitor, than that
.

*

Atop Ice Tower, a Korelri Stormguard arrived and bowed to Section Marshal Learthol, who was in conversation with Wall Marshal Quint. ‘The captive has been delivered.’

Learthol accepted the message. Quint gave curt wave. ‘Good. Let’s hope we can squeeze the last of the season out of this champion.’

Another Chosen stepped forward from the shadows of the chamber and the Korelri guard stiffened, bowing again. ‘Lord Protector.’

Lord Protector Hiam acknowledged the bow. He addressed Learthol: ‘I understand there are others here just as promising …’

‘Yes. A surprising number of skilled prisoners of late. We must keep a close eye upon them.’

The Lord Protector studied the oil flame of the communication device of this uppermost chamber. ‘Yes, Section Marshal. And we must take care to watch this flame. If calamity strikes we will have to summon aid quickly.’

‘Yes, my lord. I must say, we are honoured by your presence.’

The Lord Protector waved such sentiments aside. ‘Where else would I be, Learthol? You’ll have more support soon. These Roolians will fill the inconsequential gaps. Easing the load for us. Soon you will have the numbers you should have had all along.’

‘My thanks. But we would have held regardless.’

‘Of course.’ The Lord Protector stared into the flame for a time, then gazed at Learthol as if not seeing him. ‘That will be all. Thank you.’

Bowing, the guard and the Section Marshal exited, pulling the door shut behind them.

In the relative quiet the howling wind returned to punish the shutters, which were seized in ice on all four sides. Quint’s scarred face twisted as he studied the Lord Protector. ‘You have news?’

A slow assent from Hiam. ‘Yes. This
overlord
and his Roolian troops have been pushed back from the coast. The Malazans have struck inland towards the Barrier range.’

Quint slammed the butt of his spear to the flagging. ‘They would take Kor!’

Hiam pressed a hand to one iced shutter. ‘Perhaps …’

‘Perhaps? What else could they intend?’

‘They might …’ Hiam wrenched open the westward-facing shutters. Cutting winds whipped through the chamber, snapping their cloaks and clearing a table of clutter and pages of vellum. The oil flame of the communication beacon was snuffed. Hiam stared down the ice-encrusted wall, where beneath fat hanging clouds and driving snow raging waves were breaking almost even with the wall’s outermost crenellations.
All is grey – iron-grey, both sea and stone
. ‘They might make a strike for the wall,’ he admitted.

Quint slammed shut the leaf. ‘Good! We will crush them!’

Hiam gave the ghost of a smile. ‘Of course, Quint.’

‘Yes!’ The Wall Marshal relit the fat wick of the oversized lamp. ‘Perhaps the Lady has drawn them here to destroy them.’ He studied his commander through narrowed eyes. ‘Had you not thought of that, Hiam?’

The Lord Protector was startled.
No, indeed. I had not considered that … Lady forgive me! My faith is shallower than I suspected. I must pray long tonight
. He answered Quint’s steady gaze.
Living Spear of the wall. You know no doubt, Quint. The Spear does not reflect – it strikes!