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The message had insisted he come dressed in local garb. Thus, Toc drew little attention as he strode to the counter.
The old man paused in his snacking and bowed with his head. «At your service, sir,» he said, wiping his hands.
«I believe a table has been reserved in my name,» Toc said. «I am Render Kan.»
The old man studied a wax tablet before him, then looked up with a smile. «Of course. Follow me.»
A minute later Toc sat at a table on a balcony overlooking the garden court. His only company was a decanter of chilled Saltoan wine, which arrived when he did, and he now sipped from a goblet, his lone eye surveying the people in the garden below.
A servant arrived and bowed before him. «Kind sir,» the man said, «I am to deliver the following message. A gentleman will soon join you who has been out of his depth yet not aware of it. He is, now.»
Toc frowned. «That's the message?»
«It is.»
«His own words?»
«And yours, sir.» The servant bowed again and departed.
Toc's frown deepened, then he sat forward, his every muscle tensing.
He turned to the balcony's entrance in time to see Captain Paran stride through. He was dressed in the ma
«Not unduly shocked, I hope,» Paran said, as he arrived. They sat down and the captain poured himself some wine. «Did the message prepare you?»
«Barely,» Toc replied. «I'm not sure how to receive you, Captain. Is this according to the Adjunct's instructions?»
«She believes me dead,» Paran said, his brow wrinkling. «And I was, for a time. Tell me, Toc the Younger, am I speaking to a Claw, or to a soldier of the Second?»
Toc's eye narrowed. «That's a tough question.»
«Is it?» Paran asked, his gaze intense and unwavering.
Toc hesitated, then gri
Paran laughed, clearly relieved.
«Now what's all this about you being dead but not dead, Captain?»
Paran's humour vanished. He took a mouthful of wine and swallowed, looking away. «An attempted assassination,» he explained, grimacing. I should have died, if not for Mallet and Tattersail.»
«What? Whiskeyjack's healer and the sorceress?»
Paran nodded. «I've been recovering until recently in Tattersail's quarters. WhiskeyJack's instructions were to keep my existence secret the time being. Toc,» he leaned forward, «what do you know of the Adjunct's plans?»
Toc examined the garden below. Tattersail had known-she managed to keep it from everyone at the di
«I do.»
«Where's Tattersail?» Toc swung his gaze to the captain and held the man's eyes.
The captain jerked his head. «Very well. She travels overland-Darujhistan. She knows a T'lan Imass accompanies the Adjunct, and she believes Lorn's plan includes killing Whiskeyjack and his squad. I do not agree. My role in the mission was to keep an eye on one member of the sergeant's squad, and that person was to be the only one to die. She gave me the command after three years of service to her-it's a reward, and I can't believe she would take it from me. There, that is what I know. Can you help me, Toc?»
«The Adjunct's mission,» Toc said, after releasing a long breath, «as far as I'm aware of it, involves far more than just killing Sorry. The T'lan Imass is with her for something else. Captain,» Toc's expression was grim, «the days of the Bridgeburners are numbered. Whiskeyjack's name is damn near sacred among Dujek's men. This is something of which I couldn't convince the Adjunct-in fact she seems to think the opposite but if the sergeant and the Bridgeburners are eliminated, this army won't be pulled back in line, it will mutiny. And the Malazan Empire will be against High Fist Dujek with not a single commander who can match him. The Genabackan Campaign will disintegrate, and civil war may well sweep into the heart of the Empire.»
The blood had drained from Paran's face. «I believe you,» he said. «Very well, you've taken my doubts and made of them convictions. And they leave me with but one choice.»
«And that is?»
Paran turned the empty goblet in his hands. «Darujhistan,» he said. «With luck I'll catch Tattersail, and together we'll attempt to contact Whiskeyjack before the Adjunct does.» He glanced at Toc. «Evidently the Adjunct can no longer sense my whereabouts. Tattersail forbade me to accompany her, arguing that Lorn would be able to detect me, but she also let slip that my «death» had severed the bonds between me and the Adjunct. I should have made the co
Into Toc's mind returned the memory of how she'd looked that evening, and he nodded knowingly. «I'm sure she did.»
Paran sighed. «Yes, well. In any case, I need at least three horses, and supplies. The Adjunct is proceeding on some kind of timetable. I know that much. So she's not travelling with much haste. I should catch up with Tattersail in a day or two, then together we can drive hard to the edge of the Tahlyn Mountains, skirt them and slip past the Adjunct.»
Toc had leaned back during Paran's elaboration of his plan, a half-smile on his lips. «You'll need Wickan horses, Captain, since what you've described requires mounts superior to those the Adjunct's riding. Now, how do you plan to get past the city gates dressed as a local but leading Empire horses?»
Paran blinked.
Toc gri
«But-»
«Those are my conditions, Captain.»
Paran coughed. «Very well. And now that I think on it, the company would be welcome.»
«Good,» Toc grunted. He reached for the decanter. «Let's drink on the damn thing, then.»
The way was becoming more and more difficult, and Tattersail felt her first tremor of fear. She travelled a Warren of High Thyr and not even Tayschre
The Warren had become narrow, choked with obstacles. At times it shuddered around her, the dark walls to either side writhing as if under tremendous pressure. And within the tu
She realized that she could not continue. She would have to enter the physical world and find rest. Once again she cursed her own carelessness.
She had forgotten her Deck of Dragons. With them she would have known what to expect. She entertained once again the suspicion that an outside force had acted upon her, severing her from the Deck. The first distraction had come from Captain Paran, and while it had been pleasant, she reminded herself that Paran belonged to Opo
Bereft of her Warren, she would find herself alone on the Rhivi Plain, without food, without even a bedroll. The mindless need for haste she'd experienced ran contrary to her every instinct. She was growing certain that it had been imposed upon her, that somehow she'd let her defences down, left herself exposed to such manipulations. And that returned her thoughts to Captain Paran, to the servant of Opo
Finally, she could go no further. She began to withdraw her strained power, collapsing the Warren layer by layer about her. The ground beneath her boots became solid, cloaked in spare yellow grass, and the air around her shifted into the dull lavender of dusk. A wind brushed her face smelling of soil. The horizon steadied itself on all sides-far off to her right the sun still bathed the Talhyn Mountains, the peaks glittering like gold-and immediately ahead rose an enormous silhouetted figure, turning to face her and voicing a surprised grunt.