Chapters (35)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Acknowledgements
- Maps
- Dramatis Personae
- The Tiste: Holds, Greater and Lesser Houses, Priesthood and Court
- Prelude
- Part One : In These Gifts the Shapes of Adoration
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Part Two : The Solitude of This Fire
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Part Three : The Proofs of Your Ambition
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Part Four : The Forge of Darkness
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- About the Author
- Also by Steven Erikson
- Copyright
Ilgast Rend sat behind the desk, frozen, like a man nailed to his chair. He stared across at the dishevelled messenger with the red-rimmed eyes. Panicked thoughts flitted through him. Send a rider to Commander Calat Hustain. Recall him. The Vitr will have to wait. We now have war.
But I cannot wait. The soldier in me cries out. Urusander is still weak. His companies are scattered across the realm. He hides in Neret Sorr and deems it a distant island in rough seas. I have the Wardens in readiness, and here I am like a hound-master holding a thousand leashes. I swore to do nothing, but that vow – foolish old man! That vow was made in a time of peace.
Highborn blood had been spilled. Innocents had been slaughtered.
Urusander, you pushed too far. But I see you in your keep, enthroned, and all the crows in your company chatter and caw until you are deafened, and the flapping wings blind you and the rush of air is sweet blessing against your face, and you think this the measure of the world.
Will we await your next move?
I think not. He struggled to control his breathing, and cleared his throat, twice, before speaking to the messenger. ‘I trust Lord Anomander has assembled his Houseblades. I trust the other Greater Houses are stirred to arms.’
‘Milord,’ said the messenger, ‘there were slain Deniers at the scene—’
Ilgast Rend snorted and rose suddenly. ‘We are to believe the rabbit showed teeth? The crassness of such deception delivers a mocking insult. No, we are not even meant to be fooled. Urusander’s Legion has struck – I saw as much in Hunn Raal’s eyes, when in argument he bludgeoned with threat and indignation in equal measure. He invites confusion, but does so with contempt.’
‘Your orders to me, milord?’
‘Rest, and then take three horses and ride to Calat Hustain in the Glimmer Fate.’
‘Best I not rest, milord,’ said the young man.
‘You are exhausted.’
‘This news is urgent. Perhaps another rider in my stead?’
‘Rest. I would not have this tale become blurred beneath too many layers of varnish. Calat will hear from you what I have heard. But add this: I lead the Wardens to Neret Sorr. I intend to attack Lord Urusander while his forces remain scattered. I intend to cut out the heart of this rebellion.’
The man’s face was grey, but he saluted.
‘Send in my captains,’ Ilgast Rend said to the man as he made to depart.
‘At once, milord.’
Ilgast Rend sat once more. He settled his hands upon the flat, worn surface of the desk. The soldier in me sees clearly. He expects us to wallow in our grief, to stand unmoving in our shock. This was calculated to make us reel in disbelief.