Toll the Hounds (The Malazan Book of the Fallen 8) - Page 279

He might ask her why, but Vorcan was a woman who kept her own counsel. She owed him nothing and that had not changed.

‘You had better go now,’ Hinter said, cutting into his thoughts.

He blinked.’Why?’

‘Because your silence is boring me, High Alchemist.’

‘My apologies, Hinter,’ Baruk replied. ‘One last thing, and then I will indeed leave. The risk of your enslavement is very real, and is not dependent on the ac-tual return of the Tyrant-after all, there are agents in the city even now working towards that fell resurrection. They might well decide-’

‘And you imagine they might succeed, High Alchemist?’

‘It is a possibility, Hinter.’

The ghost was silent for a time, and then said, ‘Your solution?’

‘I would set one of my watchers on your tower, Hinter. To voice the alarm should an attempt be made on you.’

‘You offer to intercede on my behalf, High Alchemist?’

‘I do.’

‘I accept, on condition that this does not indebt me to you.’

‘Of course.’

‘You would rather I remain… neutral, and this I understand. Better this than me as an enemy.’

‘You were once a most formidable sorceror-’

‘Rubbish. I was passable, and fatally careless… Still, neither of us would have me serving a most miserable cause. Send your watcher, then, but give me its name, lest I invite in the wrong servant.’

‘Chillbais.’

‘Oh,’ said Hinter, ‘him.’

As he made his way back to his estate, Baruk recalled his lone meeting with Vor-can, only a few nights after her awakening. She had entered the chamber with her usual feline grace. The wounds she had borne were long healed and she had found a new set of clothes, loose and elegant, that seemed at complete odds with her chosen profession.

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He might ask her why, but Vorcan was a woman who kept her own counsel. She owed him nothing and that had not changed.

‘You had better go now,’ Hinter said, cutting into his thoughts.

He blinked.’Why?’

‘Because your silence is boring me, High Alchemist.’

‘My apologies, Hinter,’ Baruk replied. ‘One last thing, and then I will indeed leave. The risk of your enslavement is very real, and is not dependent on the ac-tual return of the Tyrant-after all, there are agents in the city even now working towards that fell resurrection. They might well decide-’

‘And you imagine they might succeed, High Alchemist?’

‘It is a possibility, Hinter.’

The ghost was silent for a time, and then said, ‘Your solution?’

‘I would set one of my watchers on your tower, Hinter. To voice the alarm should an attempt be made on you.’

‘You offer to intercede on my behalf, High Alchemist?’

‘I do.’

‘I accept, on condition that this does not indebt me to you.’

‘Of course.’

‘You would rather I remain… neutral, and this I understand. Better this than me as an enemy.’

‘You were once a most formidable sorceror-’

‘Rubbish. I was passable, and fatally careless… Still, neither of us would have me serving a most miserable cause. Send your watcher, then, but give me its name, lest I invite in the wrong servant.’

‘Chillbais.’

‘Oh,’ said Hinter, ‘him.’

As he made his way back to his estate, Baruk recalled his lone meeting with Vor-can, only a few nights after her awakening. She had entered the chamber with her usual feline grace. The wounds she had borne were long healed and she had found a new set of clothes, loose and elegant, that seemed at complete odds with her chosen profession.

He had stood before the fireplace, and offered her a slight bow to hide a sudden tremble along his nerves. ‘Vorcan.’

‘I will not apologize,’ she said.

‘I did not ask you to.’

‘We have a problem, Baruk,’ she said, walking over to pour herself some wine, then facing him once more. ‘It is not a question of seeking prevention-we can-not stop what is coming. The issue is how we will position ourselves for that time.’

‘You mean, to ensure our continued survival.’

A faint smile as she regarded him. ‘Survival is not in question. We three left in Cabal will be needed. As we were once, as we will be again. I am speaking more of our, shall we say, level of comfort.’

Anger flared within Baruk then. ‘Comfort? What value that when we have ceased to be free?’

She snorted. ‘Freedom is ever the loudest postulation among the indolent. And let’s face it, Baruk, we are indolent. And now, suddenly, we face the end to that. Tragedy!’ Her gaze hardened. ‘I mean to remain in my privileged state-’

‘As Mistress of the Assassins’ Guild? Vorcan, there will be no need for such a Guild, no room for it.’

‘Never mind the Guild. I am not interested in the Guild. It served, a function of the city, a bureaucratic mechanism. Its days are fast dwindling in number.’

‘Is that why you sent your daughter away?’

A flicker of true annoyance in her eyes, and she looked away. ‘My reasons are not of your concern in that matter, High Alchemist.’ Her tone added, And it’s none of your business, old man.

‘What role, then,’ Baruk asked, ‘do you envision for yourself in this new Daru-jhistan?’

‘A quiet one,’ she replied.

Yes, quiet as a viper in the grass. ‘Until such time, I imagine, as you see an op-portunity.’

She drained her wine and set down the goblet. ‘We are understood, then.’

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I suppose we are.’

‘Do inform Derudan.’

‘I shall.’

And she left.

The recollection left a sour taste in Baruk’s mouth. Was she aware of the other convergences fast closing on Darujhistan? Did she even care? Well, she wasn’t the only one who could be coy. One thing he had gleaned from that night of mur-der years ago: Vorcan had, somehow, guessed what was on its way. Even back then, she had begun her preparations… all to ensure her level of comfort. Send-ing her daughter away, extricating herself from the Guild. And visiting her ver-sion of mercy upon the others in the Cabal. And if she’d got her way, she would now be the only one left alive.

Think hard on that, Baruk, in the light of her professed intentions. Her desire to position herself.

Tags: Steven Erikson The Malazan Book of the Fallen Fantasy
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