‘An interesting way of viewing it.’

‘Perspective, Captain. The Barghast would see us withered and lifeless. To be cut away.’

‘While you see it the other way round?’

Twist shrugged. ‘We do not fear change. We do not resist it. The Barghast must accept that growth is necessary, even if painful. They must learn what the Moranth learned long ago, when we did not draw our swords and instead spoke with the Tiste Edur – the grey-skinned wanderers of the seas. Spoke, to discover they were as lost as we were, as weary of war, as ready for peace.’

‘Tiste Edur?’

‘Children of the Shattered Warren. A fragment had been discovered, in the vast forest of Moranth that would become our new homeland. Kurald Emurlahn, the true face of Shadow. There were so few Tiste Edur left, we chose to welcome them. The last of them are gone now, from Moranth Wood, long gone, but their legacy is what has made us as we are.’

‘Achievant, it may take me a while to make sense of what you’ve just described. I have questions—’

Twist shrugged again. ‘We did not slay the Tiste Edur. In Barghast eyes, that is our greatest crime. I wonder, however, if the Elder Spirits – now gods – see it in similar light.’

‘They’ve had a long time to think,’ Paran murmured. ‘Sometimes, that’s all that’s needed. The heart of wisdom is tolerance. I think.’

‘If so, Captain, then you must be proud.’

‘Proud?’

The achievant slowly turned away as soft calls announced the troop was ready. ‘I now return to Dujek Onearm.’ He paused, then added, ‘The Malazan Empire is a wise empire. I think that rare, and precious. And so I wish it – and you – well.’

Paran watched Twist stride away.

It was time to go.

Tolerant, Maybe. Keep that word in mind, Ganoes – there’s a whisper that it will prove the fulcrum in what’s to come ...

Kruppe’s mule carried him swiftly up the embankment, through a press of marching marines on the road – who scattered from its path – then down the other side and out onto the plain. Shouts and helpful advice followed him.

‘Brainless beast! Blind, stubborn, braying creature of the Abyss! Stop, Kruppe cries! Stop! No, not that way—’

The mule charged a tilting path back round, fast-trotted smartly for the nearest clan of White Face Barghast.

A dozen savagely painted children raced out to meet them.

The mule baulked in sudden alarm, pitching Kruppe forward onto its neck. The animal then wheeled, and slowed to a placid walk, tail switching its rump.