They would melt away before the enemy at the first hint of pressure. He’d seen them lining the route taken by the marines and heavies; he’d seen their pathetic salutes. Good for gestures now, these soldiers, but their faces were empty. They had the look of the dead. Every man, every woman.
When Lostara reached the entrance to the Adjunct’s tent, she halted, gesturing him inside.
He moved past her, stepped within.
Only the front chamber remained standing – the back end of the tent was already unstaked and hanging in a thick creased wall behind Tavore, who stood facing him. There was no one else present, not even that smirking priest, and Lostara Yil had not followed him in.
‘What is it, Adjunct? I have troops to oversee if you want us up and on the way before noon.’
‘Fist Blistig, I am placing you in command of the centre. You will have Fist Kindly on your right and Fist Faradan Sort on your left. Warleader Gall will hold the Khundryl in reserve, along with the skirmishers and archers.’
He stared at her, dumbfounded. ‘You are describing the presentation for battle,’ he said. ‘But there won’t be any battle. It will be a rout. We will face Forkrul Assail – and you’ve gone and given up your sword. Their sorcery will overwhelm us.’
Her eyes held on his, unwavering. ‘You will hold the centre, Fist. That is your only task in the upcoming engagement. You will be attacked by normal soldiers – Kolansii – a conventional army. Expect them to be highly disciplined and well trained. If there are heavy infantry among the enemy then you can be certain that they will strike for your position. You will not yield a single step, is that understood?’
Blistig drew off his helmet, contemplated throwing it at the woman standing opposite him. Instead, he clawed a hand through his thinning hair. I could kill her. Right now, here in this tent. But she bought their souls again, didn’t she? I’d never get away alive. Better to wait, find a more perfect moment. But then, who am I trying to fool? ‘Put me there, Adjunct, and I’ll take a knife to the back before the Kolansii even crest the horizon.’
There was a look in her eyes that made him wonder if she’d seen right through to his thoughts, if she knew how close she was to being murdered, and simply did not care enough to feel fear. ‘Fist, I was advised when in Aren to leave you in command of the city garrison. Indeed, there was talk of promoting you to the city’s Fist, and had that occurred it is possible that you would then be touted to become High Fist, overseeing all of South Seven Cities. I understand that what I have just described would have suited you perfectly. At least until the next uprising.’
Blistig’s voice was a rasp, ‘What is the point of this, Adjunct?’
‘However, your proponents – the officers and functionaries in Aren – couldn’t see a span beyond their city’s walls. They could not imagine that Jhistal Mallick Rel would not rot away the rest of his days in a gaol cell, or lose his head to a pike above the main gate. In other words, they had no comprehension of the extent of the man’s influence, how it had already corrupted the Claw, or that his agents were even then positioned within reach of Laseen’s throne.
‘Furthermore,’ she continued, still studying him, ‘that his hatred for you and your … betrayal at Aren, following Coltaine’s fall, pretty much assured your eventual assassination. You may indeed be unaware that between the Fall and my arrival in the city three attempts were made on your life. All of them successfully intercepted, at the cost of four valuable agents.
‘Your transfer to under my command was in fact the only means of keeping you alive, Fist Blistig. The fourth time your life was saved was at Malaz City; had we failed in extricating ourselves you would have been arrested and executed. Now, you may choose to believe that I undertook such efforts because I value you as a commander, and be sure that to this day I remain impressed and admiring of your quick wit and decisiveness when refusing to yield Aren to the rebels. But that was not my primary reason for saving your life. Mallick Rel, High Fist Korbolo Dom and their interests would seek to revise the events at Aren – the outlawing and castigation of the Wickans was but the beginning.
‘Fist Blistig, there are few who know the truth of those events. I saved your life to keep that truth alive.’
He was silent following this speech. A part of him wanted to disbelieve every word, wanted to call her a damned liar, and a self-serving one at that. But … how could any of this be self-serving? She was placing him in command of the centre – probably facing heavy infantry – among Malazan soldiers who despised him. She’d saved his life only to throw it away now, and how did that make sense, any sense at all? ‘Adjunct, are you expecting me to thank you?’