Memories of Ice & House of Chains - By Steven Erikson Page 0,16

of course, might decide your companion's worth burying – wouldn't that be fun?'

'Momentarily,' Toc agreed. 'You speak Daru, yet wear the telaba of Seven Cities . . .'

Her brows arched. 'Do I? Oh, such confusion! Mind you, sir, you speak Daru yet you are from that repressed woman's empire – what was her name again?'

'Empress Laseen. The Malazan empire.' And how did you know that? I'm not in uniform ...

She smiled. 'Indeed.'

'I am Toc the Younger, and the T'lan Imass is named Tool'

'How apt. My, it is hot out here, don't you think? Let us retire within the Jaghut tower. Garath, cease sniffing the T'lan Imass and awaken the servants.'

Toc watched the burly dog trot towards the tower. The entrance, the scout now saw, was in fact via a balcony, probably the first floor – yet another indication of the depth of the crushed glass. 'That place doesn't appear very habitable,' he observed.

'Appearances deceive,' she murmured, once again flashing him a heart-stuttering smile.

'Have you a name?' Toc asked her as they began walking.

'She is Lady Envy,' Tool said. 'Daughter of Draconus – he who forged the sword Dragnipur, and was slain by its present wielder, Anomander Rake, lord of Moon's Spawn, with that selfsame sword. Draconus had two daughters, it is believed, whom he named Envy and Spite—'

'Hood's breath, you can't be serious,' Toc muttered.

'The names no doubt amused him, as well,' the T'lan Imass continued.

'Really,' Lady Envy sighed, 'now you've gone and ruined all my fun. Have we met before?'

'No. None the less, you are known to me.'

'So it seems! It was, I admit, over-modest of me to assume that I would not be recognized. After all, I've crossed paths with the T'lan Imass more than once. At least twice, that is.'

Tool regarded her with his depthless gaze. 'Knowing who you are does not answer the mystery of your present residency here in Morn, should you look to pursue coyness, Lady. I would know what you seek in this place.'

'Whatever do you mean?' she asked mockingly.

As they approached the tower's entrance a leather-armoured masked figure appeared in the gaping doorway. Toc stopped in his tracks. 'That's a Seguleh!' He spun to Lady Envy. 'Your servant's a Seguleh!'

'Is that what they're called?' Her brow wrinkled. 'A familiar name, though its context escapes me. Ah well. I have gleaned their personal names, but little else. They happened by and chanced to see me – this one, who is called Senu, and two others. They concluded that killing me would break the monotony of their journey.' She sighed. 'Alas, now they serve me.' She addressed the Seguleh. 'Senu, have your brothers fully awakened?'

The short, lithe man tilted his head, his dark eyes flat within the slits of his ornate mask.

'I've gathered,' Lady Envy said to Toc, 'that gesture indicates acquiescence. They are not a loquacious lot, I have found.'

Toc shook his head, his eyes on the twin broadswords slung under Senu's arms. 'Is he the only one of the three to acknowledge you directly, Lady?'

'Now that you mention it . . . Is that significant?'

'Means he's on the bottom rung in the hierarchy. The other two are above conversing with non-Seguleh.'

'How presumptuous of them!'

The scout grinned. 'I've never seen one before – but I've heard plenty. Their homeland is an island south of here, and they're said to be a private lot, disinclined to travel. But they are known of as far north as Nathilog.' And Hood take me, aren't they known.

'Hmm, I did sense a certain arrogance that has proved entertaining. Lead us within, dear Senu.'

The Seguleh made no move. His eyes had found Tool and now held steady on the T'lan Imass.

Hackles rising, the ay stepped to one side to clear a space between the two figures.

'Senu?' Lady Envy enquired with honeyed politeness.

'I think,' Toc whispered, 'he's challenging Tool.'

'Ridiculous! Why would he do that?'

'For the Seguleh, rank is everything. If the hierarchy's in doubt, challenge it. They don't waste time.'

Lady Envy scowled at Senu. 'Behave yourself, young man!' She waved him into the room beyond.

Senu seemed to flinch at the gesture.

An itch spasmed across Toc's scar. He scratched it vigorously, breathing a soft curse.

The Seguleh backed into the small room, then hesitated a moment before turning and leading the others to the doorway opposite. A curved hallway brought them to a central chamber in which a tightly wound staircase rose from the centre. The walls were unadorned, roughly pitted pumice. Three limestone sarcophagi crowded the far end of the room,