‘Please – do not apologize for what has not even happened yet. Don’t talk about it at all.’

‘I didn’t think I was, lass.’ Liar. You were. In your own way. You were apologizing.

She accepted the lie with a wry smile. ‘Very well.’

Later, Whiskeyjack would think back on his words, and wish that they had been cleaner – devoid of hidden intent.

Eyes grainy from lack of sleep, Paran watched Quick Ben close his conversation with Haradas then leave the company of the Trygalle trader to rejoin the captain.

‘The sappers will howl,’ Paran said as the two of them resumed their walk towards the Malazan encampment, newly established on the south shore of Catlin River.

Quick Ben shrugged. ‘I’ll take Hedge to one side for a word or two. After all, Fiddler’s closer than a brother to him, and with the mess that Fid’s got into he needs all the help he can get. The only issue is whether the Trygalle can deliver the package in time.’

‘They’re an extraordinary lot, those traders.’

‘They’re insane. Doing what they’re doing. Sheer audacity is the only thing that keeps them alive.’

‘I’d add a certain skill for travelling inimical warrens, Quick.’

‘Let us hope it’s sufficient,’ the wizard responded.

‘It wasn’t just Moranth munitions, was it?’

‘No. The situation in Seven Cities couldn’t be more desperate. Anyway, I’ve done what I could. As to its effectiveness, we’ll see.’

‘You’re a remarkable man, Quick Ben.’

‘No, I’m not. Now, best keep all this as private an affair as possible. Hedge will keep his trap shut, and so will Whiskeyjack—’

‘Gentlemen! Such a lovely evening!’

Both swung at the voice booming directly behind them.

‘Kruppe!’ Quick Ben hissed. ‘You slippery—’

‘Now now, Kruppe begs your indulgence. ‘Twas mere happy accident that Kruppe heard your admirable words whilst almost stumbling ever so quietly on your heels, and indeed, now desires nothing else than to partake, ever so humbly, in courageous enterprise!’

‘If you speak a word of this to anyone,’ Quick Ben growled, ‘I will slit your throat.’

The Daru withdrew his decrepit handkerchief and mopped his forehead, three quick dabs that seemed to leave the silk cloth sodden with sweat. ‘Kruppe assures deadly wizard that silence is as Kruppe’s closest mistress, lover unseen and unseeable, unsuspected and unmitigable. Whilst at the same time, Kruppe proclaims that the fair citizens of Darujhistan will hark to such a noble cause – Baruk himself so assures and would do so in person were he able. Alas, he has naught but this to offer.’ With that Kruppe withdrew with a flourish a small glass ball from the handkerchief, then dropped it to the ground. It broke with a soft tinkle. Mists rose, gathered knee-high between the Daru and the two Malazans, and slowly assumed the form of a bhokaral.

‘Aai,’ Kruppe muttered, ‘such ugly, indeed visually offensive, creatures.’