Midnight Tides & The Bonehunters - By Steven Erikson Page 0,189

pretext.'

'Then will Prince Quillas make an effort to join her?'

'My son has separated his ship from the delegation and now makes for Trate.'

'To what extent,' Brys asked, 'has her battalion made use of the caches in the region?'

'Knowing her,' the king snapped, 'she's damn near emptied them.'

'We are hastening to replace the depleted stocks,' Unnutal Hebaz said. 'Obviously, we are forced to adjust our tactics as a consequence. We will fight defensively, in keeping with our doctrine, and, yes, the Edur will be expecting that. But we will not roll back. We will not retreat. Once engaged, we intend to maintain that contact. This will be, I believe, a brutal war – perhaps the most vicious war we have fought since conquering Bluerose's League of Duchies.'

'Now,' the king said, 'I would hear details on the defence of our frontier cities and the Sea of Katter. As well, the disposition of the fleets ...'

Brys found the words that followed drifting into a formless murmur somewhere in the background. He was thinking of his brother, marching with the Tiste Edur to wage war on his homeland. On the kingdom that had so cruelly betrayed him. The queen and the prince would want him, desperately ... or, at the very least, his head. And through Hull's crimes, they would seek to strike at Brys, at his position as the king's protector. They might well send soldiers to round up Tehol as well, on some fabricated pretext. The added pleasure of avenging financial losses incurred as a result of Tehol's brilliant chaos. They would, in fact, waste little time.

Brys needed to warn Tehol.

The Rat Catchers' Guild Chief Investigator sat at a courtyard table beneath torchlight. A small heap of delicate bones sat in the centre of the large plate before her. Within reach was a crystal carafe of white wine. An extra goblet waited in front of the empty chair opposite her.

'You're not Tehol,' she said as Bugg arrived and sat down. 'Where's Tehol and his immodest trousers?'

'Not here, alas, Chief Investigator, but you can be certain that, wherever they are, they are together.'

'Ah, so he has meetings with people more important than me? After all, were he sleeping, he would not be wearing the trousers, would he?'

'I wouldn't know, Rucket. Now, you requested this meeting?'

'With Tehol.'

'Ah, so this was to be romantic?'

She sniffed and took a moment to glare at the only other occupants of this midnight restaurant, a husband and wife clearly not married to each other who were casting suspicious glances their way, punctuated with close leaning heads and heated whispers. 'This place serves a specific clientele, damn you. What's your name again?'

'Bugg.'

'Oh yes. I recall being unsurprised the first time it was mentioned. Well, you kept me waiting, you little worm, and what's that smell?'

Bugg withdrew a blackened, wrinkled strip, flat and slightly longer than his hand. 'I found an eel in the fish market. Thought I'd make soup for myself and the master.'

'Our financial adviser eats discarded eels?'

'Frugality is a virtue among financiers, Chief Investigator.' He tucked the dried strip back into his shirt. 'How is the wine? May I?'

'Well, why not? Here, care to pick the bones?'

'Possibly. What was it originally?'

'Cat, of course.'

'Cat. Oh yes, of course. Well, I never liked cats anyway. All those hair balls.' He drew the plate over and perused it to see what was left.

'You have a fascination for feline genitalia? That's disgusting, although I've heard worse. One of our minor catchers once tried to marry a rat. I myself possess peculiar interests, I freely admit.'

'That's nice,' Bugg said, popping a vertebra into his mouth to suck out the marrow.

'Well, aren't you curious?'

'No,' he said around the bone. 'Should I be?'

Rucket slowly leaned forward, as if seeing Bugg for the first time. 'You ... interest me now. I freely admit it. Do you want to know why?'

'Why you freely admit it? All right.'

'I'm a very open person, all things considered.'

'Well, I am considering those things, and so consequently admit to being somewhat surprised.'

'That doesn't surprise me in the least, Bugg. What are you doing later tonight, and what's that insect? There, on your shoulder?'

He pulled the vertebra out and reached for another. 'It's of the two-headed variety. Very rare, for what I imagine are obvious reasons. I thought my master would like to see it.'

'So you permit it to crawl all over you?'

'That would take days. It's managed to climb from halfway up my arm to my shoulder and that's taken over a