‘I have acquired the habit,’ the man said, squinting as he followed some minor ruckus near the bar, ‘of ascending the ruins. To look out over the Nightwater.

Remebering the old cat-men and their families-aye, It seems they are breed-

ing anew, but of course It will not be the same, not at all the same.’ He fell silent for a moment, then shot Spinnock a quick, uneasy glance. ‘I see your lord.’

The Tiste Andii’s brows lilted. ‘Anomander Rake?’

A nod. ‘First time was a couple of weeks ago. And now… every time, at about the twelfth bell. He stands on the wall of the new keep. And, like me, he stares out to sea.’

‘He favours… solitude,’ Spinnock said.

‘1 am always suspicious of that statement,’ Seerdomin said.

Yes, 1 can see how you might be. ‘It is what comes from lordship, from rule. Most of his original court is gone. Korlat, Orfantal, Sorrit, Pra’iran. Vanished or dead. That doesn’t make it any easier. Still, there are some who remain. Endest Silann, for one.’

‘When I see him, standing alone like that…’ Seerdomin looked away. ‘It unnerves me.’

‘It is my understanding,’ observed Spinnock, ‘that we all manage to do that, for you humans. The way we seem to haunt this city.’

‘Sentinels with nothing to guard.’

Spinnock thought about that, then asked, ‘And so too the Son of Darkness? Do you people chafe under his indifferent rule?’

Seerdomin grimaced. ‘Would that all rulers were as indifferent. No, “indifferent” is not quite the right word. He is there where it matters. The administration and the authority-neither can be challenged, nor is there any reason to do so. The Son of Darkness is… benign.’

Spinnock thought of the sword strapped to his lord’s back, adding the tart flavour of inadvertent irony to his friend’s words. And then he thought of the dead cities to the north. Maurik, Setta, Lest. ‘It’s not as if any neighbouring kingdoms are eyeing the prize that is Black Coral. They’re either dead or, as in the south, in complete disarray. Thus, the threat of war is absent. Accordingly, what’s left for a ruler? As you say, administration and authority.’

‘You do not convince me, friend,’ Seerdomin said, his eyes narrowing. ‘The Son of Darkness, now that is a title for a bureaucrat? Hardly. Knight of Darkness to keep the thugs off the streets?’

‘It is the curse of a long life,’ Spinnock said, ‘that in eminence one both rises and falls, again and again. Before this, there was a vast and costly war against the Pannion Domin. Before that, an even deadlier and far longer feud with the Malazan Empire. Before that, Jacuruku. Seerdomin, Anomander Rake has earned his rest. This peace.’

‘Then perhaps he is the one who chafes. Staring out upon the harsh waters of the Cut, the twelfth bell tolling like a dirge in the gloom.’

‘Poetic,’ Spinnock said, smiling, but there was something cold in his heart, as if the image conjured by his friend’s words was somehow too poignant. The notion sobered him. ‘I do not know if my lord chafes. I have never been that important; little more than one warrior among thousands. I do not think we have spoken in centuries.’

Seerdomin’s look was incredulous. ‘But that is absurd!’

‘Is it? See me, Seerdomin, I am too capricious. It is my eternal curse. I wan never one for command, not even a squad. I got lost in Mott Wood, five days stumbling through briar and brush.’ Spinnock laughed, waved one hand. ‘A hopeless cause long ago, friend.’

‘It’s commonly held, Spinnock, that all you remaining Tiste Andii-survivors from all those wars-are perforce the elite, the most formidable of all.’

‘You were a soldier, so you know better than that. Oh, there are heroes aplenty among the Andii ranks. But just as many of us who were simply lucky. It’s the way of things. We lost many great heroes in our battles against the Malazans.’

‘A hopeless cause, you claim to be.’ Seerdomin grimaced. ‘Yet a master campaigner in Kef Tanar.’

‘With soldiers of carved wood, I am most formidable. Living ones are another matter entirely.’

The man grunted, and seemed content to leave that one alone.

They sat in companionable silence for a time, as Resto delivered another pitcher of ale, and Spinnock was relieved, as the ale flowed from pitcher to flagon to mouth, that no more talk of past deeds in distant fields of battle arose that might unhinge the half-truths and outright lies he had just uttered.