Tool resumed removing thin, translucent flakes of obsidian from what was quickly assuming the shape of a lanceolate arrowhead. ‘At first, there were three others, who wandered together, for a time. Anomander Rake, Caladan Brood, and a sorceress who eventually ascended to become the Queen of Dreams. Following that event, dramas ensued – or so it is told. The Son of Darkness was joined by Lady Envy, and the Soletaken known as Osric. Another three who wandered together. Caladan Brood chose a solitary path at the time, and was not seen on this world for score centuries. When he finally returned – perhaps a thousand years ago – he carried the hammer he still carries: a weapon of the Sleeping Goddess.’

‘And Rake, Envy and this Osric – what were they up to?’

The T’lan Imass shrugged. ‘Of that, only they could tell you. There was a falling out. Osric is gone – where, no-one knows. Anomander Rake and Lady Envy remained companions. It is said they parted – argumentatively – in the days before the ascendants gathered to chain the Fallen One. Rake joined in that effort. The lady did not. Of her, this is the sum of my knowledge, soldier.’

‘She’s a mage.’

‘The answer to that is before you.’

‘The hot bathwater appearing from nowhere, you mean.’

Tool set the finished arrowhead down and reached for another blank. ‘I meant the Seguleh, Toc the Younger.’

The scout grunted. ‘Ensorcelled – forced to serve her – Hood’s breath, she’s made them slaves!’

The T’lan Imass paused to regard him. ‘This bothers you? Are there not slaves in the Malazan Empire?’

‘Aye. Debtors, petty criminals, spoils of war. But, Tool, these are Seguleh! The most feared warriors on this continent. Especially the way they attack without the slightest warning, for reasons only they know—’

‘Their communication,’ Tool said, ‘is mostly non-verbal. They assert dominance with posture, faint gestures, direction of stance and tilt of head.’

Toc blinked. ‘They do? Oh. Then why haven’t I, in my ignorance, been cut down long ago?’

‘Your unease in their presence conveys submission,’ the T’lan Imass replied.

‘A natural coward, that’s me. I take it, then, that you show no ... unease.’

‘I yield to no-one, Toc the Younger.’

The Malazan was silent, thinking on Tool’s words. Then he said, ‘That oldest brother – Mok – his mask bears but twin scars. I think I know what that means, and if I’m right. . .’ He slowly shook his head.

The undead warrior glanced up, shadowed gaze not wavering from the scout’s face. ‘The young one who challenged me – Senu – was . . . good. Had I not anticipated him, had I not prevented him from fully drawing his swords, our duel might well have been a long one.’

Toc scowled. ‘How could you tell how good he was when he didn’t even get his swords clear of their scabbards?’

‘He parried my attacks with them none the less.’