The Bonehunters

Bottle nudged Toles, the soldier on his right. 'What are they fighting over?'



Toles looked down on Bottle, his thin, pallid face twitching. 'It's very simple. Two squads, marching in step, one behind the other, then the other in front of the one that had been in front beforehand, proving the mythical camaraderie to be no more than some epic instigator of bad poetry and bawdy songs designed to appease lowbrows, in short, a lie. Culminating at the last in this disreputable display of animal instincts-'



'Saltlick bit Shortnose's ear off,' cut in Corporal Reem, standing on Bottle's left.



'Oh. Is that what he's chewing?'



'Yeah. Taking his time with it, too.'



'Do Tugg and Sobelone know about the captain's meeting?'



'Yeah.'



'So, Shortnose who got his nose tip cut off now has only one ear, too.'



'Yeah. He'll do anything to spite his face.'



'Is he the one who got married last week?'



'Yeah, to Hanno there. She's the one betting against him. Anyway, from what I hear, it ain't his face that she adores, if you know what I mean.'



Bottle caught sight of a low hill on the north side of the road on which stood a score of twisted, hunched guldindha trees. 'Is that the old cemetery?'



'Looks like it, why?'



Without answering, Bottle pushed his way back through the crowd and set off for the burial ground. He found Sergeant Balm in a looter's pit, face streaked with ash, making a strange monotonous nasal groaning sound as he danced in tight circles.



'Sergeant, captain wants a meeting-'



'Shut up, I'm busy.'



'Dusk, in the sheep pen-'



'Interrupt a Dal Honese death dirge and you'll know a thousand thousand lifetimes of curses, your bloodlines for ever. Hairy old women will steal your children and your children's children and chop them up and cook them with vegetables and tubers and a few precious threads of saffron-'



'I'm done, Sergeant. Orders delivered. Goodbye.'



'-and Dal Honese warlocks wearing snake girdles will lie with your woman and she'll birth venomous worms all covered in curly black hair-'



'Keep it up, Sergeant, and I'll make a doll of you-'



Balm leapt from the pit, eyes suddenly wide. 'You evil man! Get away from me! I never done nothing to you!' He spun about and ran away, gazelle-skins flapping.



Bottle turned and began the long walk back to the camp.



****

He found Strings assembling his crossbow, Cuttle watching with avid interest. A crate of Moranth munitions was to one side, the lid pried loose and the grenados lying like turtle eggs in nests of padding. The others of the squad were sitting some distance away, looking nervous.



The sergeant glanced up. 'Bottle, you found them all?'



'Aye.'



'Good. So, how are the other squads holding up?'



'Just fine,' Bottle replied. He regarded the others on the far side of the hearth. 'What's the point?' he asked. 'If that box goes up, it'll knock down Y'Ghatan's wall from here, and you and most of this army will be red hail.'



Sudden sheepish expressions. Grunting, Koryk rose, deliberately casual. 'I was already sitting here,' he said. 'Then Tarr and Smiles crawled over to huddle in my shadow.'



'The man lies,' Smiles said. 'Besides, Bottle, why did you volunteer to go wandering with the captain's orders?'



'Because I'm not stupid.'



'Yeah?' Tarr said. 'Well, you're back now, aren't you?'



'I thought they'd be finished by now.' He waved a fly away that had been buzzing in front of his face, then walked over to sit downwind of the hearth. 'So, Sergeant, what do you figure the captain's got to say?'



'Sappers and shields,' Cuttle said in a growl.



'Shields?'



'Aye. We scurry in hunched low and the rest of you shield us from all the arrows and rocks until we're done planting the mines, then whoever's left runs back out, as fast as they can and it won't be fast enough.'



'A one-way trip, then.'



Cuttle grinned.



'It'll be more elaborate than that,' Strings said. 'I hope.'



'She goes straight in, that's what she does.'



'Maybe, Cuttle. Maybe not. She wants most of her army still breathing when the dust's settled.'



'Minus a few hundred sappers.'



'We're getting rare enough as it is,' Strings said. 'She won't want to waste us.'



'That'd be a first for the Malazan Empire;'