Stepping clear, he faced Coltaine and raised the bottle. ‘You, sir,’ he said in strangely accented Malazan, ‘have much to answer for.’ Then he grinned, displaying a row of gold-capped, diamond-studded teeth. ‘Your exploits tremble the warrens! Your journey is wildfire in every street in Darujhistan, no doubt in every city, no matter how distant! Have you no notion how many beseech their gods on your behalf? Coffers overflow! Grandiose plans of salvation abound! Vast organizations have formed, their leaders coming to us, to the Trygalle Trade Guild, to pay for our fraught passage – though,’ he added in a lower tone, ‘all the Guild’s passages are fraught, which is what makes us so expensive.’ He unstoppered the bottle. ‘The great city of Darujhistan and its remarkable citizens – dismissing in an instant your Empire’s voracious desires on it and on themselves – bring you this gift! By way of the shareholders –’ he waved back at the various men and women behind him, now gathering into a group – ‘of Trygalle – the foulest-tempered, greediest creatures imaginable, but that is neither here nor there, for here we are, are we not? Let it not be said of the citizens of Darujhistan that they are insensitive to the wondrous, and, dear sir, you are truly wondrous.’

The preposterous man stepped forward, suddenly solemn. He spoke softly. ‘Alchemists, mages, sorcerers have all contributed, offering vessels with capacities belying their modest containers. Coltaine of Crow Clan, Chain of Dogs, I bring you food. I bring you water.’

Karpolan Demesand was one of the original founders of the Trygalle Trade Guild, a citizen of the small fortress city of the same name, situated south of the Lamatath Plain on the continent of Genabackis. Born of a dubious alliance between a handful of mages, Karpolan among them, and the city’s benefactors – a motley collection of retired pirates and wreckers – the Guild came to specialize in expeditions so risk-laden as to make the average merchant pale. Each caravan was protected by a heavily armed company of shareholders – guards who possessed a direct stake in the venture, ensuring the fullest exploitation of their abilities. And such abilities were direly needed, for the caravans of the Trygalle Trade Guild – as was clear from the very outset – travelled the warrens.

‘We knew we had a challenge on our hands,’ Karpolan Demesand said with a beatific, glittering smile as they sat in Coltaine’s command tent, with only the Fist and Duiker for company because everyone else was working outside, dispensing the caravan’s life-giving supplies with all speed. ‘That foul Wan-en of Hood is wrapped about you tighter than a funeral shroud on a corpse ... if you’ll forgive the image. The key is to ride fast, to stop for nothing, then get out as soon as humanly possible. In the lead wagon, I maintain the road, with every sorcerous talent at my command – a gruelling journey, granted, but then again, we don’t come cheap.’