The Complete Malazan Book of the Fallen (1275 page)

Am I a child with a hand to be slapped?

Of the four ancient races, who was always the most feared, if not the Forkrul Assail?

She knew there were other Pures, on distant continents. And, once Akhrast Korvalain's power was made unassailable in this place, she would quest to find them. She would invite them to share in this power, and the cleansing could begin in earnest.
We shall unleash such justice as to—

A frigid blast of air swept up around her and Sister Reverence turned from the battle below. Facing into that icy wind, she made her way across the platform to the side looking out over the sea.

What she saw stunned her.

Kolanse Bay was filling with ice. Mountains, glowing emerald and sapphire, were rising up from the depths, and as she stared she saw the churning water bleach white, saw every wave freeze solid. The Perish ships, which had been broken and smashed and swallowed by the sea, had now reappeared, the wreckage sealed in ice – and there were more ships, ones long buried in the silts of the sea bottom, heaving to the surface. Directly below, the sheltered Kolansii galleys and triremes, now locked in ice, began to shatter, hulls collapsing. The sound of that destruction, rising up to where she stood, was a chorus of detonations, as of trees battered down by winds.

The entire bay was now solid ice, the surface a crazed landscape of jagged translucent crags, welling fissures, and flat sweeps of dirty snow. Mists poured from it in roiling clouds.

And, with the voice of grinding mountains, it had begun lifting higher, tilting, the nearest end reaching upwards. The mole and breakwaters of the harbour directly below were suddenly obliterated, torn and crushed to rubble – and as the ice shifted, reaching the base of the Spire, Sister Reverence felt the stone tremble beneath her feet.

This cannot be!

Omtose Phellack – what Jaghut dares this? No! They are gone! Extinct – there is not one Jaghut left with this kind of power – we would have found the threat, we would have destroyed it!

Sister Reverence staggered back from the precipice as she felt the Spire sway under her. Hearts pounding, hips aching, she stumbled across the platform. Reaching her previous position, she glared down at the battle.

In time to see the Ve'Gath soldiers pouring up the embankment.

Rise! Kolansii – my blessed children – rise to meet them!

Fists clenched, she flung her humans into the K'Chain Che'Malle.

Buffeted to one side by a collapsing Ve'Gath, Gesler struggled for balance as his mount stumbled. He could see that the front line had plunged into the trench – and from higher up the tiers, hundreds of Kolansii were rushing down to support their besieged comrades.

He saw Stormy, dragging his axe upward, a cloven helm jammed on the blade. The man's face was red as his beard, a berserk rage upon him. His Ve'Gath stood atop the berm, its own weapons hammering down at the Kolansii swarming up to assail it.

Fool's going to get himself killed. He'll do it, too, just to spite me!

He commanded his Ve'Gath forward. Amidst the swirling flavours in his mind, he spoke to his K'Chain Che'Malle. ‘Take this trench! Push! All of you – push!'

Off to his right he saw the T'lan Imass chopping their way through the defenders, overrunning the redoubts. Once they were able to close in hand-to-hand fighting, their battle turned into slaughter. Gesler saw Onos T'oolan – enemy weapons rebounding from him – wade forward, flint sword swinging. He seemed to be walking through a mist of blood.

Bastards are showing us up. Of course, we're all flesh and blood, and they're not. Nothing's more irritating than an unfair advantage on the field. At least they're on our side – gods, why am I even complaining?

‘Push!'

The Ve'Gath advance stalled in the trench. The sheer mass of armoured bodies had blocked the huge reptilian warriors – their weapons tore through the Kolansii, but more of the enemy kept arriving. Ascending the berm, Gesler could see that the next tier of earthworks had been abandoned, all the forces pouring down to slam into the K'Chain Che'Malle. Yet beyond those entrenchments, the remaining infantry stayed in their positions. He could see high redoubts on enfilading angles, onagers loaded and waiting.

This is going to take all day.

Worse yet. We might even lose.

The T'lan Imass had taken the trench at the centre and were now seeking to broaden the breach. A salvo of heavy bolts slashed through their ranks.

‘K'ell Hunters – Sag'Churok – we need you at the centre – we need those onagers destroyed! The T'lan Imass can break this wide open. Flow in behind them – Ve'Gath rear ranks, form up on the centre and advance into the breach!'

An arrow skidded off his left shoulder. Swearing, he kicked his Ve'Gath forward, down into the trench to join Stormy.

The slaughter was appalling, close and packed with heaving bodies, slashing and stabbing weapons. His Ve'Gath landed on corpses – already the trench was at but half its normal depth – and the smeared limbs and torsos slipped beneath his mount's weight until its claws dug in for purchase.

A half dozen shield-locked Kolansii held the top of the ramp directly opposite, short-handled spiked axes at the ready – they were attacking the Ve'Gath low, chopping at legs and thrusting at underbellies.
This is how the Malazans did it. Why couldn't these Kolansii be stupid?

Howling, he drove his Ve'Gath forward.

 

‘We kill and we kill still more, and yet they do not break. Destriant, these soldiers are under a geas. The pure-blood Forkrul Assail commands their souls.'

Kalyth slowly nodded. She could see that well enough – no army could withstand this kind of ceaseless slaughter. She knew that thousands of Kolansii had fallen. The battle for the first trenches had consumed almost half the morning, and now, as the sun blazed directly overhead – in the very midst of the Jade Strangers – the K'Chain Che'Malle and T'lan Imass had advanced no further than crushing the last defenders of the third entrenchment.

Only halfway through the defences.

Beside her the Matron Gunth Mach spoke in a mélange of flavours.
‘My Ve'Gath are beginning to tire, Destriant. A thousand have fallen and will not rise again. And now Gu'Rull informs me that more Kolansii are on the way – upon the inland high road to the west.'

Kalyth hugged herself. What to do, what to say? ‘Then the Letherii and Bolkando have failed.'

‘No. They pursue, but they are much reduced and exhausted – they will not arrive in time to assist us. Destriant, it is difficult to reach the Shield Anvil and the Mortal Sword. They are in battle frenzy – again and again they call upon a name I do not know, but each time it is voiced, something trembles in the air. A flavour pungent and bestial.

‘Destriant, we must withdraw an element of our forces to meet this threat from the west. You must reach through to our human commanders – you must break their fury and speak with a voice of reason. Ride the minds of the Ve'Gath – they will guide you to them.'

Kalyth drew a deep breath, and then closed her eyes.

 

The tattoos on Gesler's forearms were burning, as if splashed with acid, but he barely noticed as he leaned over the shoulders of his reeling Ve'Gath. He had never been so tired, so…demoralized. The enemy would not break. The enemy fought with a rage to match his and Stormy's, and though they died and died, still more came.

An axe spike had plunged deep into his mount's gut and the animal was dying beneath him, yet somehow it remained on its feet, somehow it continued advancing, weapons bashing foes aside.

They had drawn closer to the centre – to where the T'lan Imass still pushed forward, their tireless arms rising and descending. Never before had Gesler been so close to the ancient undead warriors in the midst of battle, witness to this devastating…implacability.

And the Emperor had almost twenty thousand of them at his command. He could have conquered the world. He could have delivered such slaughter as to break every kingdom, every empire in his path.

But he barely used them at all.

Kellanved – is it possible? Did even
you
quail at the carnage these creatures promised? Did you see for yourself how victory could destroy you, destroy the entire Malazan Empire?

Gods below, I think you did.

You took command of the T'lan Imass – to keep them off the field of battle, to keep them out of human wars.

And now I see why.

He still held his heavy sword, but had no strength left to even so much as lift it.

The battle lust was fading – something was assaulting it, tearing it down, away from his eyes, and all at once the redness of his vision fragmented, vanished.

And he heard Kalyth's voice.
‘Gesler. There is another Kolansii army on the high inland road. They are fast-marching – we must guard our flank.'

‘Guard our flank? With what?' He angled his mount round, lurched as it staggered. ‘Ah, shit, my Ve'Gath's finished.' He pulled his boots from the scale stirrups, slid down from the beast's slathered back. Landing, his knees buckled and he fell to one side. Fighting to regain his breath, he stared up at the strange – and strangely crowded – sky. ‘All right. Listen, Kalyth. Draw the K'ell back and send them over there, all of them. Tell Sag'Churok – I'm sending him the T'lan Imass.' He forced himself to his feet. ‘Did you hear all that?' He flinched as his Ve'Gath fell over, legs flailing, half its guts hanging out in thick ropes. He saw the life empty from its eyes.

‘Yes. Gu'Rull says you must hurry. There is little time.'

‘That damned rhizan's finally come back, has it?'

‘Gu'Rull says there is a storm coming, Gesler. He says you called it.'

‘Like Hood I have!' He looked around, but Stormy was nowhere to be seen.
A storm? What's she going on about? Whatever it is, it's probably that red-bearded bastard's fault.

Cursing, the Mortal Sword set off to find Onos T'oolan. His forearms, he saw with faint alarm, were sweating beads of blood.

Onos T'oolan cut diagonally in a downward chop, through the torso of the Kolansii opposite him, dragging his blade free as he stepped over the crumpling body. An axe head slammed into his ribs on his left side, bounced off, and he turned and slashed through his attacker's neck, watched the head roll off the shoulders. Two more strides and he was atop the fourth berm, his warriors coming up alongside him.

Looking down into the trench, he stared at a mass of upturned faces – all twisted with inhuman hatred – and weapons lifted as he prepared to descend into the press.

‘First Sword!'

Onos T'oolan paused, stepped back and turned round.

The Malazan named Gesler was stumbling towards him.

‘Gesler,' said Onos T'oolan, ‘there are but two more tiers left – and the number of enemy in those positions is sorely diminished. We shall prevail. Draw your Ve'Gath into our wake—'

‘First Sword – we are about to be flanked to the west. I have sent what remains of my K'ell Hunters there, but they are not enough.'

Onos T'oolan lowered his sword. ‘I understand.'

‘We will push on here without you,' Gesler said. ‘You've split the defences in two, and when all is said and done, the Ve'Gath can out-climb and out-run humans – we will fight to the foot of the stairs. We will assault the Spire.'

‘Akhrast Korvalain is wounded now, Mortal Sword. Tellann is awake – Olar Ethil is near. It seems that this shall be a day of ancient powers. Malazan, beware the voice of the Pure who awaits you atop the Spire.'

The man revealed red-stained teeth. ‘Once I get up there, she won't have time to get a single damned word out.'