Midnight Tides & The Bonehunters - By Steven Erikson Page 0,287

terms. So, Udinaas, for what you have done, for what you have given him, thank you.'

The slave nodded without looking up. He reached down to retrieve his plate.

Trull returned to the central chamber to find that Hannan Mosag had arrived, and was speaking to Rhulad.

'... Hull believes it lies near a town downriver from here. A day's journey, perhaps. But, Emperor, a necessary journey none the less.'

Rhulad looked away, glared at the far wall. 'The armies must go on. To Brans Keep. No delays, no detours. I will go, and Fear and Trull as well. Hull Beddict, to guide us. Udinaas, of course.'

'A K'risnan,' the Warlock King said, 'and our new demonic allies, the two Kenryll'ah.'

'Very well, those as well. We shall meet you at Brans Keep.'

'What is it?' Trull asked. 'What has happened?'

'Something has been freed,' Hannan Mosag said. 'And it must be dealt with.'

'Freed by whom, and for what purpose?'

The Warlock King shrugged. 'I know not who was responsible. But I assume it was freed to fight us.'

'A demon of some sort?'

'Yes. I can only sense its presence, its will. I cannot identify it. The town is named Brous.'

Trull slowly nodded. 'Would that Binadas were with us,' he said.

Rhulad glanced up. 'Why?'

Trull smiled, said nothing.

After a moment, Fear grunted, then nodded.

Rhulad matched Trull's smile. 'Yes,' he said, 'would that he were.'

Hannan Mosag looked at the three of them in turn. 'I do not understand.'

The emperor's laugh was harsh, only slightly bitter. 'You send us on another quest, Warlock King.'

Hannan Mosag visibly blanched.

Seeing that, Rhulad laughed again, this time in pure amusement.

After a moment, both Fear and Trull joined him, whilst Hannan Mosag stared at them all in disbelief.

They had drunk too much wine, Trull told himself later. That was all. Far too much wine.

Seren Pedac and the Crimson Guardsmen guided their horses down from the road, across the ditch, and drew rein at the edge of a green field. The vanguard of the Merchants' Battalion had emerged from the city's gates, and the Acquitor could see Preda Unnutal Hebaz at the forefront, riding a blue-grey horse, white-maned, that tossed its head in irritation, hooves stamping with impatience.

'If she's not careful,' Iron Bars observed, 'that beast will start bucking. And she'll find herself on her arse in the middle of the road.'

'That would be an ill omen indeed,' Seren said.

After a moment, the Preda managed to calm the horse.

'I take it we have something of a wait before us,' Iron Bars said.

'King's Battalion and Merchants' Battalion at the very least. I don't know what other forces are in Letheras. I wouldn't think the south battalions and brigades have had time to reach here, which is unfortunate.' She thought for a moment, then said, 'If we cross this field, we can take the river road and enter through Fishers' Gate. It will mean crossing two-thirds of the city to reach my home, but for you, Avowed, well, presumably the ship you're signed on with will be close by.'

Iron Bars shrugged. 'We're delivering you to your door, Acquitor.'

'That's not necessary—'

'Even so, it is what we intend to do.'

'Then, if you don't mind ...'

'Fishers' Gate it shall be. Lead on, Acquitor.'

The rearguard elements of the King's Battalion had turned in the concourse before the Eternal Domicile and were now marching up the Avenue of the Seventh Closure. King Ezgara Diskanar, who had stood witness on the balcony of the First Wing since his official despatch of the Preda at dawn, finally swung about and made his way inside. The investiture was about to begin, but Brys Beddict knew he had some time before his presence was required.

Four of his own guard were on the balcony with him. Brys gestured one over. 'Find me a messenger.'

'Yes, sir.'

Brys waited, staring out over the city. The air was oppressive with more than just humidity and heat. After the passing of the battalion's rearguard, few citizens ventured into its wake. The battle at Brans Keep was still days away, but it seemed that most of the city's residents – those who remained – had elected to stay in their homes as much as possible.

The messenger arrived, a woman he had employed often and one he knew he could trust.

'Deliver a missive to my brother, Tehol, at his home.'

'He will be on his roof?'

'I expect so, and that is the message – he is to stay there. Now, an additional message, to the Shavankrat brother guarding Tehol. A name. Gerun Eberict. That is all.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Go, then.'

She quickly