Reaper's Gale

Sirryn Kanar found he was trembling. With rage. ‘Then advise her, Tomad Serigar, of her son’s impatience.’



Uruth slowly drained her goblet of wine, set it carefully down, then rose. ‘Sheathe your weapons, Letherii. My husband and I can walk to the throne room in your company, or alone. My preference is for the latter, but I permit you this single warning. Sheathe your swords, or I will kill you all.’



Sirryn gestured to his soldiers and weapons slid back into scabbards. After a moment, his did the same. I will have an answer for this, Uruth Sengar. Recall my place? Of course, if the lie suits you, as it does me…for now.



‘Finally,’ Uruth said to Tomad, ‘we shall have an opportunity to tell our son all that needs to be told. An audience. Such privilege.’



‘It may be you shall await his pleasure,’ Sirryn said.



‘Indeed? How long?’



The Letherii smiled at her. ‘That is not for me to say.’



‘This game is not Rhulad’s. It is yours. You and your Chancellor.’



‘Not this time,’Sirryn replied.



‘I have killed Tiste Edur before.’



Samar Dev watched Karsa Orlong as the Toblakai examined the tattered clamshell armour shirt he had laid out on the cot. The pearlescent scales were tarnished and chipped, and large patches of the thick leather under-panels-hinged with rawhide-were visible. He had gathered a few hundred holed coins-made of tin and virtually worthless-and was clearly planning to use them to amend the armour.



Was this a gesture of mockery, she wondered. A visible sneer in Rhulad’s face? Barbarian or not, she would not put it past Karsa Orlong.



‘I cleared the deck of the fools,’ he continued, then glanced over at her. ‘And what of those in the forest of the Anibar? As for the Letherii, they’re even more pathetic-see how they cower, even now? I will explore this city, with my sword strapped to my back, and none shall stop me.’



She rubbed at her face. ‘There is a rumour that the first roll of champions will be called. Soon. Raise the ire of these people, Karsa, and you will not have to wait long to face the Emperor.’



‘Good,’ he grunted. ‘Then I shall walk Letheras as its new emperor.’



‘Is that what you seek?’ she asked, her eyes narrowing on him in surprise.



‘If that is what is needed for them to leave me be.’



She snorted. ‘Then the last thing you want is to be emperor.’



He straightened, frowning down at the gaudy if bedraggled armour shirt. ‘I am not interested in fleeing, witch. There is no reason for them to forbid me,’



‘You can step outside this compound and wander where you will… just leave your sword behind.’



‘That I will not do.’



‘Then here you remain, slowly going mad at the Emperor’s pleasure.’



‘Perhaps I shall fight my way through.’



‘Karsa, they just don’t want you killing citizens. Given that you are so, uh, easily offended, it’s not an unusual request.’



‘What offends me is their lack of faith.’



‘Right,’ she snapped, ‘which you have well earned by killing Edur and Letherii at every turn. Including a Preda-’



‘I did not know he was that.’



‘Would it have made a difference? No, I thought not. How about the fact that he was a brother to the Emperor?’



‘I did not know that either.’



‘And?’



‘And what, Samar Dev?’



‘Murdered him with a spear, wasn’t it?’



‘He assailed me with magic-’



‘You have told me this tale, Karsa Orlong. You had just slaughtered his crew. Then kicked in the door to his cabin. Then crushed the skulls of his bodyguards. I tell you, in his place I too would have drawn upon my warren-assuming I had one, which I don’t. And I would have thrown everything I had at you.’



‘There is no point to this conversation,’ the Toblakai said in a growl.



‘Fine,’ she said, rising from her chair. ‘I am off to find Taxilian. At least his obdurate obsessions are less infuriating.’



‘Is he your lover now?’



She halted at the doorway. ‘And if he was?’



‘Just as well,’ Karsa said, now glowering down at his patchy armour. ‘1 would break you in two.’



Jealousy to join the host of other madnesses? Spirits below! She turned back to the door. ‘I’d be more inclined towards Senior Assessor. Alas, he has taken vows of celibacy.’



‘The fawning monk is still here?’