Chapters (37)
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- DRAMATIS PERSONAE
- PROLOGUE
- BOOK ONE - RARAKU
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- BOOK TWO - WHIRLWIND
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- BOOK THREE – CHAIN OF DOGS
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- BOOK FOUR - DEADHOUSE GATES
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
- CHAPTER NINETEEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY
- CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
- EPILOGUE
- GLOSSARY
- TRIBES OF THE SEVEN SUBCONTINENTS
- PLACE NAMES
- TITLES AND GROUPS
- ASCENDANTS
With Heboric at her side, she reached the crest and saw what lay beyond. In the immediate foreground was a ruined village – a scattering of smouldering houses and buildings, dead horses, dead soldiers. The stone-built entrance to the Aren Way was blackened with smoke.
The road stretched away in an even declination southward. The trees lining it to either side ...
Sha’ik nudged her horse forward. Heboric matched her, silent and hunched, shivering in the heat. Leoman rode to flank her on the other side. They approached the Aren Gate.
The group wheeled to follow, in silence.
Kamist Reloe spoke, the faintest quaver in his voice. ‘See what has been made of this proud gate? The Malazan Empire’s Aren Gate is now Hood’s Gate, Seer. Do you see the significance? Do you—’
‘Silence!’ Korbolo Dom growled.
Aye, silence. Let silence tell this tale.
They passed beneath the gate’s cool shadow and came to the first of the trees, the first of the bloated, rotting bodies nailed to them. Sha’ik halted.
Leoman’s scouts were approaching at a fast canter. Moments later they arrived, reined in.
‘Report,’ Leoman snapped.
Four pale faces regarded them, then one said, ‘It does not change, sir. More than three leagues – as far as we could see. There are – there are thousands.’
Heboric pulled his horse to one side, nudged it closer to the nearest tree and squinted up at the closest corpse.
Sha’ik was silent for a long minute, then, without turning, she said, ‘Where is your army, Korbolo Dom?’
‘Camped within sight of the city—’
‘You failed to take Aren, then.’
‘Aye, Seer, we failed.’
‘And Adjunct Tavore?’
‘The fleet has reached the bay, Seer.’
What will you make of this, sister?
‘The fools surrendered,’ Korbolo Dom said, his voice betraying his own disbelief. ‘At High Fist Pormqual’s command. And that is the Empire’s new weakness – what used to be a strength: those soldiers obeyed the command. The Empire has lost its great leaders—’
‘Has it now?’ She finally faced him.
‘Coltaine was the last of them, Seer,’ the renegade Fist asserted. ‘This new Adjunct is untested – a noble-born, for Hood’s sake. Who awaits her in Aren? Who will advise her? The Seventh is gone. Pormqual’s army is gone. Tavore has an army of recruits. About to face veteran forces three times their number. The Empress has lost her mind, Seer, to think that this pureblood upstart will reconquer Seven Cities.’
She turned away from him and stared down the Aren Way. ‘Withdraw your army, Korbolo Dom. Link up with my forces here.’
‘Seer?’
‘The Apocalypse has but one commander, Korbolo Dom. Do as I say.’
And silence once again tells its tale.
‘Of course, Seer,’ the renegade Fist finally grated.
‘Leoman.’
‘Seer?’
‘Encamp our own people. Have them bury the dead on the plain.’
Korbolo Dom cleared his throat. ‘And once we’ve regrouped – what do you propose to do then?’