Midnight Tides & The Bonehunters - By Steven Erikson Page 0,232

minds of the Rat Catchers' Guild, was, as you have observed, how does one reshape an entire society? How does one convert this impressive example of the instinct to survive into a communally positive force? Clearly, we needed to follow a well-established, highly successful social structure as our inspiration—'

'Rats.'

'Well done, Bugg. I knew I could count on you. Thus, we began with recognizing the need for a leader. Powerful, dynamic, charismatic, dangerous.'

'A criminal mastermind with plenty of thugs to enforce his or her will.'

Tehol frowned. 'Your choice of words disappoints me, Bugg.'

'You?'

'Me? Of course not. Well, not directly, that is. A truly successful leader is a reluctant leader. Not one whose every word is greeted with frenzied cheering either – after all, what happens to the mind of such a leader, after such scenes are repeated again and again? A growing certainty, a belief in one's own infallibility, and onward goes the march into disaster. No, Bugg, I won't have anyone kissing my feet—'

'I'm relieved to hear that, master, since those feet have not known soap in a long, long time.'

'The body eventually resumes its own natural cleansing mechanisms, Bugg.'

'Like shedding?'

'Exactly. In any case, I was speaking of leadership in a general sort of way—'

'Who, master?'

'Why, the Waiting Man, of course. Occasional priest, healer, consorter with demons ...'

'That's probably not such a good idea, master,' Bugg said, rubbing his bristled jaw. 'I am rather ... busy at the moment.'

'A leader should be busy. Distracted. Preoccupied. Prepared to delegate.'

'Master, I really don't think this is a good idea. Really.'

'Perfectly reluctant, perfect! And look! You've been noticed! See those hopeful faces—'

'That's hunger, master.'

'For salvation! Word's gone out, you see. They're ready for you, Bugg. They've been waiting ...'

'This is very bad, master.'

'Your expression is perfect, Bugg. Sickly and wan with dismay, deeply troubled and nervous, yes indeed. I couldn't have managed better myself.'

'Master—'

'Go out among your flock, Bugg. Tell them – they're leaving. Tomorrow night. All of them. A better place, a better life awaits them. Go on, Bugg.'

'As long as no-one worships me,' the manservant replied. 'I don't like being worshipped.'

'Just stay fallible,' Tehol said.

Bugg cast him a strange look, then he walked into the shanty-town.

'Thank you for coming, Brys.'

Kuru Qan was sitting in the thickly padded chair near the wall opposite the library's entrance. Polished lenses and cloth in his hands, cleaning one lens then the other, then repeating the gesture, again and again. His eyes were fixed on nothing visible to Brys.

'More news from Trate, Ceda?'

'Something, yes, but we will discuss that later. In any case, we must consider the city lost.'

'Occupied.'

'Yes. Another battle is imminent, at High Fort.'

'The queen and the prince have withdrawn their forces, then? I understood they were seeking the pass.'

'Too late. The Edur had already made crossing.'

'Will you contribute to the defence?' Brys asked, striding into the small room and settling down on the bench to the Ceda's left.

'No.'

Surprised, Brys said nothing. He had been in the company of the king and Unnutal Hebaz for most of the evening, studying the detected movements of the enemy armies, immersed in the painful exercise of trying to predict the nature of his brother Hull's advice to the Edur emperor. Clearly, Hull had anticipated the pre-emptive attack on the villages. To Brys's mind, the rabid display of greed from the camps of the queen and the prince had tipped their hand. Janall, Quillas and their investors had already begun dividing up the potential spoils, which made clear their desire for a quick war, one that devastated the Tiste Edur, and that meant catching them unawares. Janall's march for the pass had indicated no change in her thinking. Yet now she had retreated.

The Tiste Edur had stolen the initiative. The appearance above High Fort, the surrender of Fent Reach and the fall of Trate indicated at least two enemy armies, as well as two fleets, all moving fast.

'Ceda, have you learned anything more of the demon that entered Trate harbour?'

'The danger is not singular, but plural,' Kuru Qan said. 'I see before me the Cedance, and have learned, to my horror, that it is ... incomplete.'

'Incomplete? What do you mean?'

The Ceda continued cleaning the lenses in his hands. 'I must needs conserve my power, until the appropriate time. The seas must be freed. It is as simple as that.'

Brys waited, then, when Kuru Qan said no more, he ventured, 'Do you have a task for me, Ceda?'

'I would counsel a withdrawal from High Fort, but the king would