And suddenly she was furious. ‘This wasn’t obligation!’ she snapped, savagely reining in directly in front of him. ‘You abandoned us-there in that damned foreign city! “Do this when the time is right”, and so I did! Where the Hood did you go? And-’

And then she yelped, as the huge warrior swept her off the saddle with one massive arm, and closed her in a suffocating embrace, and the bastard was laughing and even Traveller-curse the fool-was grinning, although to be sure it was a hard grin, mindful as he clearly was of the half-dozen bodies lying amidst blood and entrails in the grasses.

‘Witch!’

‘Set me down!’

‘I am amazed,’ he bellowed, ‘that Havok suffered you all this way!’

‘Down!’

So he dropped her. Jarring her knees, sending her down with a thump on her backside, every bone rattled. She glared up at him. But Karsa Orlong had already turned away and was eyeing Traveller, who re-mained on his horse. ‘You are you her husband then? She must have had one somewhere-no other reason for her forever refusing me. Very well, we shall light for her, you and me-’

‘Be quiet, Karsa! He’s not my husband and no one’s fighting for me. Because I belong to no one but me! Do you understand? Will you ever understand?’

‘Samar Dev has spoken,’ said Traveller. ‘We met not long ago, both journeying on this plain! We chose to ride as companions. I am from Dal Hon, on the continent of Quon Tali-’

Karsa grunted. ‘Malazan.’

An answering nod. ‘I am called Traveller.’

‘You hide your name.’

‘What I hide merely begins with my name, Karsa Orlong.’ The Toblakai’s eyes thinned at that.

‘You bear the tattoos,’ Traveller went on, ‘of an escaped slave of Seven Cities. Or, rather, a recaptured one. Clearly, the chains did not hold you for long.’

Samar Dev had picked herself up and was now brushing the dust from her clothes. ‘Are these Skathandi?’ she asked, gesturing at the bodies. ‘Karsa?’

The giant turned away from his study of the Malazan. ‘Idiots,’ he said. ‘Seeking vengeance for the dead king-as if I killed him.’

‘Did you?’

‘No.’

‘Well,’ she said, ’at least now I will have a horse of my own.’

Karsa walked over to Havok and settled a hand on his neck. The beast’s nos-trils flared and the lips peeled back to reveal the overlong fangs. Karsa laughed. ‘Yes, old friend, I smell Of death. When was it never thus?’ And he laughed again.

‘Hood take you, Karsa Orlong-what happened?’

He frowned at her. ‘What do you mean, Witch?’

‘You killed the Emperor.’

‘I said I would, and so I did.’ He paused, and then said, ‘And now this Malazan speaks as if he would make me a slave once more.’

‘Not at all,’ said Traveller. ‘It just seems as if you have lived an eventful life, Toblakai. I only regret that I will probably never hear your tale, for I gather that you are not the talkative type.’

Karsa Orlong bared his teeth, and then swung up into the saddle. ‘I am riding north,’ he said.

‘As am I,’ replied Traveller.

Samar Dev collected both horses and tied a long lead to the one she decided she would not ride, then climbed into the saddle of the other-a russet gelding with a broad back and disinterested eyes. ‘I think I want to go home,’ she pronounced. ‘Meaning I need to find a port, presumably on the western coast of this continent.’

Traveller said, ‘I ride to Darujhistan. Ships ply the lake and the river that flows to the coast you seek. I would welcome the company, Samar Dev.’

‘Darujhistan,’ said Karsa Orlong. ‘I have heard of that city. Defied the Malazan Empire and so still free. I will see it for myself.’’Fine then,’ Samar Dev snapped. ‘Let’s ride on, to the next pile of corpses-and with you for company, Karsa Orlong, that shouldn’t be long-and then we’ll ride to the next one and so on, right across this entire continent. To Darujhistan! Wherever in Hood’s name that is.’

‘I will see it,’ Karsa said again. ‘But I will not stay long.’ And he looked at her with suddenly fierce eyes. ‘I am returning home, Witch.’

‘To forge your army,’ she said, nodding, sudden nerves tingling in her gut.

‘And then the world shall witness.’

‘Yes.’

After a moment, the three set out, Karsa Orlong on her left, Traveller on her right, neither speaking, yet they were histories, tomes of past, present and future. Between them, she felt like a crumpled page of parchment, her life a minor scrawl.