have your, ah, armour.’
Manask clasped his wide sides. ‘Why of course. It’s like my own flesh and blood.’
‘Exactly,’ Ipshank answered beneath his breath. He kicked at one fallen man. ‘Who’s this?’
‘Ahhh!’ Manask murmured, holding up the dagger. ‘A question very pertinent for you.’ Bending, he pushed the blade through the clothes of one fellow, then raised the weapon to bring the unconscious man into reach and grasped him with his free hand. All this Ipshank watched expressionless, arms crossed.
‘You are making powerful enemies, my friend,’ the big man explained as he rifled the attacker’s clothes. ‘These men work for the City Watch.’ A pouch of coins and other weapons were tucked into pockets hidden all about Manask’s loose robes. Finished, he dropped the fellow and bent to the next.
‘I don’t want you interfering. You’ll only ruin everything.’
Manask peered up, grinning, ‘Oh? Ruin what?’
Ipshank mouthed a silent curse. ‘Nothing.’
‘Oho! I knew it!’ Manask straightened with the second assailant. ‘A new scam. I’ll have your back again – just like the old days.’
The priest raised his face to the night sky and the boar’s face superimposed in faded blue ink stood out in sudden relief. He gave a suffering sigh. ‘No, Manask. No more tricks. No more deceits. I’m finished. Retired. Do me a favour now and don’t hang around.’ Down on the littered cobbles the first attacker groaned, mumbling something and wincing his pain. Ipshank kicked him across the temple.
The big man let the second fellow drop. ‘Now don’t get greedy.We’ve always split the gains. You’re not going all priestly on me, are you?’
‘How many times do I have to tell you? There’ll be no proceeds from this operation, Manask. Not the tangible kind, in any case.’
Manask clasped his fingertips across the top of his great bulging front and peered down at the squat man before him. His tangled brows knitted together. ‘Oh dear. You are going all religious in your old age, aren’t you? Very well. If you must indulge your guilty conscience. Temples do as well as any other racket – better than many.’
Ipshank pressed his fists to his forehead. ‘How many times do I have to …’ The fists fell. ‘Never mind. Do as you will. As far as I’m concerned we’re no longer associated. Don’t expect anything from me.’ And he marched away, grumbling under his breath.
Manask stood for a time in the dark alley, fingertips clasped and brows clenched. Then a sly smile blossomed on his long face and he raised a finger, chuckling. ‘Ahh! So that’s how we’re going to play it! I see it now. A falling out! Very good. No one will suspect.’ He chuckled more, tried to turn and jammed his stomach on the brick wall. ‘Damn! Curse it to the Dark Taker …’ He clasped his front in an attempt to squeeze himself, hissing and puffing. ‘Oh, to the Lady with it!’ He began feeling his way backwards. ‘Oh yes,’ he murmured as he retreated into the gloom. ‘We’ll fleece these Fistians to the bone, my friend. I can smell it in the air, the turmoil, the tension, and – oh dear – what have I stepped in?’
CHAPTER II
Point to the sky
Point to the ground
Point to the ocean all around
Spin your top
Spin your top
All fall down!
Children’s rhyme
Traditional
Korel Isles
H IS NAME WAS NOT SUTH, BUT THE MALAZAN RECRUITING OFFICER at the station kept open year round just north of the Dal Hon lands shortened it into that and so was he entered into official Malazan rolls. He didn’t care. Names others chose to call one did not matter. People would use whatever forms of address they wished. These were merely terms imposed from without. For Suthahl ’Ani, the only thing that really mattered was what one named oneself.
And perhaps it was this indifference to names and the petty rivalries and contests for status among the new recruits, male and female, that prevented Suth from
Manask clasped his wide sides. ‘Why of course. It’s like my own flesh and blood.’
‘Exactly,’ Ipshank answered beneath his breath. He kicked at one fallen man. ‘Who’s this?’
‘Ahhh!’ Manask murmured, holding up the dagger. ‘A question very pertinent for you.’ Bending, he pushed the blade through the clothes of one fellow, then raised the weapon to bring the unconscious man into reach and grasped him with his free hand. All this Ipshank watched expressionless, arms crossed.
‘You are making powerful enemies, my friend,’ the big man explained as he rifled the attacker’s clothes. ‘These men work for the City Watch.’ A pouch of coins and other weapons were tucked into pockets hidden all about Manask’s loose robes. Finished, he dropped the fellow and bent to the next.
‘I don’t want you interfering. You’ll only ruin everything.’
Manask peered up, grinning, ‘Oh? Ruin what?’
Ipshank mouthed a silent curse. ‘Nothing.’
‘Oho! I knew it!’ Manask straightened with the second assailant. ‘A new scam. I’ll have your back again – just like the old days.’
The priest raised his face to the night sky and the boar’s face superimposed in faded blue ink stood out in sudden relief. He gave a suffering sigh. ‘No, Manask. No more tricks. No more deceits. I’m finished. Retired. Do me a favour now and don’t hang around.’ Down on the littered cobbles the first attacker groaned, mumbling something and wincing his pain. Ipshank kicked him across the temple.
The big man let the second fellow drop. ‘Now don’t get greedy.We’ve always split the gains. You’re not going all priestly on me, are you?’
‘How many times do I have to tell you? There’ll be no proceeds from this operation, Manask. Not the tangible kind, in any case.’
Manask clasped his fingertips across the top of his great bulging front and peered down at the squat man before him. His tangled brows knitted together. ‘Oh dear. You are going all religious in your old age, aren’t you? Very well. If you must indulge your guilty conscience. Temples do as well as any other racket – better than many.’
Ipshank pressed his fists to his forehead. ‘How many times do I have to …’ The fists fell. ‘Never mind. Do as you will. As far as I’m concerned we’re no longer associated. Don’t expect anything from me.’ And he marched away, grumbling under his breath.
Manask stood for a time in the dark alley, fingertips clasped and brows clenched. Then a sly smile blossomed on his long face and he raised a finger, chuckling. ‘Ahh! So that’s how we’re going to play it! I see it now. A falling out! Very good. No one will suspect.’ He chuckled more, tried to turn and jammed his stomach on the brick wall. ‘Damn! Curse it to the Dark Taker …’ He clasped his front in an attempt to squeeze himself, hissing and puffing. ‘Oh, to the Lady with it!’ He began feeling his way backwards. ‘Oh yes,’ he murmured as he retreated into the gloom. ‘We’ll fleece these Fistians to the bone, my friend. I can smell it in the air, the turmoil, the tension, and – oh dear – what have I stepped in?’
CHAPTER II
Point to the sky
Point to the ground
Point to the ocean all around
Spin your top
Spin your top
All fall down!
Children’s rhyme
Traditional
Korel Isles
H IS NAME WAS NOT SUTH, BUT THE MALAZAN RECRUITING OFFICER at the station kept open year round just north of the Dal Hon lands shortened it into that and so was he entered into official Malazan rolls. He didn’t care. Names others chose to call one did not matter. People would use whatever forms of address they wished. These were merely terms imposed from without. For Suthahl ’Ani, the only thing that really mattered was what one named oneself.
And perhaps it was this indifference to names and the petty rivalries and contests for status among the new recruits, male and female, that prevented Suth from
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