Reaper's Gate & Toll the Hounds - By Steven Erikson Page 0,95

in the southlands, enough to shatter the spine of this empire, for we would have offered freedom.'

She turned away, deftly hiding the small leather bag. 'What is the point of this, Hannan Mosag?'

'You wish to bring down Rhulad—'

'I will bring you all down.'

'But it must begin with Rhulad – you can see that. Unless he is destroyed, and that sword with him, you can achieve nothing.'

'If you could have killed him, Warlock King, you would have done so long ago.'

'Oh, but I will kill him.'

She glared across at him. 'How?'

'Why, with his own family.'

Feather Witch was silent for a dozen heartbeats. 'His father cowers in fear. His mother cannot meet his eyes. Binadas and Trull are dead, and Fear has fled.'

'Binadas?' The breath hissed slowly from Hannan Mosag. 'I did not know that.'

'Tomad dreamed of his son's death, and Hanradi Khalag quested for his soul – and failed.'

The Warlock King regarded her with hooded eyes. 'And did my K'risnan attempt the same of Trull Sengar?'

'No, why would he? Rhulad himself murdered Trull. Chained him in the Nascent. If that was meant to be secret, it failed. We heard – we slaves hear everything—'

'Yes, you do, and that is why we can help each other. Feather Witch, you wish to see this cursed empire collapse – so do I. And when that occurs, know this: I intend to take my Edur home. Back to our northlands. If the south is in flames, that is of no concern to me – I leave the Letherii to the Letherii, for no surer recipe for obliteration do any of us require. I knew that from the very start. Lether cannot sustain itself. Its appetite is an addiction, and that appetite exceeds the resources it needs to survive. Your people had already crossed that threshold, although they knew it not. It was my dream, Feather Witch, to raise a wall of power and so ensure the immunity of the Tiste Edur. Tell me, what do you know of the impending war in the east?'

'What war?'

Hannan Mosag smiled. 'The unravelling begins. Let us each grasp a thread, you at one end, me at the other. Behind you, the slaves. Behind me, all the K'risnan.'

'Does Trull Sengar live?'

'It is Fear Sengar who seeks the means of destroying Rhulad. And I mean for him to find it. Decide now, Feather Witch. Are we in league?'

She permitted herself a small smile. 'Hannan Mosag, when the moment of obliteration comes . . . you had better crawl fast.'

'I don't want to see them.'

With these words the Emperor twisted on his throne, legs drawing up, and seemed to focus on the wall to his left. The sword in his right hand, point resting on the dais, was trembling.

Standing in an alcove to one side, Nisall wanted to hurry forward, reaching out for the beleaguered, frightened Edur.

But Triban Gnol stood facing the throne. This audience belonged to him and him alone; nor would the Chancellor countenance any interruption from her. He clearly detested her very presence, but on that detail Rhulad had insisted – Nisall's only victory thus far.

'Highness, I agree with you. Your father, alas, insisted I convey to you his wishes. He would greet his most cherished son. Further, he brings dire news—'

'His favourite kind,' Rhulad muttered, eyes flickering as if he was seeking an escape from the chamber. 'Cherished? His word? No, I thought not. What he cherishes is my power – he wants it for himself. Him and Binadas—'

'Forgive my interruption, Highness,' Triban Gnol said, bowing his head. 'There is news of Binadas.'

The Emperor flinched. Licked dry lips. 'What has happened?'

'It is now known,' the Chancellor replied, 'that Binadas was murdered. He was commanding a section of the fleet. There was a battle with an unknown enemy. Terrible sorcery was exchanged, and the remnants of both fleets were plunged into the Nascent, there to complete their battle in that flooded realm. Yet, this was all prelude. After the remaining enemy ships fled, a demon came upon Binadas's ship. Such was its ferocity that all the Edur were slaughtered. Binadas himself was pinned to his chair by a spear flung by that demon.'

'How,' Rhulad croaked, 'how is all this known?'

'Your father . . . dreamed. In that dream he found himself a silent, ghostly witness, drawn there as if by the caprice of a malevolent god.'

'What of that demon? Does it still haunt the Nascent? I shall hunt it down, I shall destroy it. Yes, there must be vengeance.