Dust of Dreams (The Malazan Book of the Fallen 9) - Page 182

‘Are there no other alternatives?’ Tehol asked. ‘Chancellor, what has so irritated the-what are they called again-the Barnasties?’

‘Barghast,’ corrected Bugg. ‘White Face Clans-they claim most of the plains as their ancestral homeland. I suspect this is the reason for their setting out to conquer the Akrynnai.’

Tehol turned to Janath and raised an eyebrow. ‘Repatriation issues, see how they plague peoples? Bugg, are these Barghast in truth from those lands?’

The Chancellor shrugged.

‘What kind of answer is that?’ Tehol demanded.

‘The only honest kind, sire. The problem is this: migratory tribes move around, that’s what makes them migratory. They flow in waves, this way and that. The Barghast may well have dwelt on the plains and much of the Wastelands once, long, long ago. But what of it? Tarthenal once lived there, too, and Imass, and Jheck-a well-trammelled land, by any count. Who’s to say which claim is more legitimate than the next?’

The emissary barked a laugh. ‘But who lives there now? We do. The only answer that matters. We will destroy these Barghast. Irkullas calls to the Kryn and their mercenary Warleader Zavast. He calls to Saphinand and to the D’rhasilhani. And he sends me to you Letherii, to take the measure of your new King.’

‘If you will crush the Barghast with the assistance of your allies,’ said Tehol, ‘why come here at all? What measure do you seek from me?’

‘Will you pounce when our backs are turned? Our spies tell us your commander is in the field with an army-’

‘ We can tell you that,’ Tehol said. ‘There’s no need for spies-’

‘We prefer spies.’

‘Right. Well. Yes, Brys Beddict leads a Letherii army-’

‘Into the Wastelands-through our territory, in fact.’

‘Actually,’ said Bugg, ‘we will be mostly skirting your territories, sir.’

‘And what of these foreigners you march with?’ the emissary asked, adding an impressive snarl after the question.

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‘Are there no other alternatives?’ Tehol asked. ‘Chancellor, what has so irritated the-what are they called again-the Barnasties?’

‘Barghast,’ corrected Bugg. ‘White Face Clans-they claim most of the plains as their ancestral homeland. I suspect this is the reason for their setting out to conquer the Akrynnai.’

Tehol turned to Janath and raised an eyebrow. ‘Repatriation issues, see how they plague peoples? Bugg, are these Barghast in truth from those lands?’

The Chancellor shrugged.

‘What kind of answer is that?’ Tehol demanded.

‘The only honest kind, sire. The problem is this: migratory tribes move around, that’s what makes them migratory. They flow in waves, this way and that. The Barghast may well have dwelt on the plains and much of the Wastelands once, long, long ago. But what of it? Tarthenal once lived there, too, and Imass, and Jheck-a well-trammelled land, by any count. Who’s to say which claim is more legitimate than the next?’

The emissary barked a laugh. ‘But who lives there now? We do. The only answer that matters. We will destroy these Barghast. Irkullas calls to the Kryn and their mercenary Warleader Zavast. He calls to Saphinand and to the D’rhasilhani. And he sends me to you Letherii, to take the measure of your new King.’

‘If you will crush the Barghast with the assistance of your allies,’ said Tehol, ‘why come here at all? What measure do you seek from me?’

‘Will you pounce when our backs are turned? Our spies tell us your commander is in the field with an army-’

‘ We can tell you that,’ Tehol said. ‘There’s no need for spies-’

‘We prefer spies.’

‘Right. Well. Yes, Brys Beddict leads a Letherii army-’

‘Into the Wastelands-through our territory, in fact.’

‘Actually,’ said Bugg, ‘we will be mostly skirting your territories, sir.’

‘And what of these foreigners you march with?’ the emissary asked, adding an impressive snarl after the question.

Tehol held up a hand. ‘A moment, before this paranoia gets out of hand. Deliver the following message to Sceptre Irkullas, from King Tehol of Lether. He is free to prosecute his war against the Barghast-in defence of his territory and such-without fear of Letherii aggression. Nor, I add, that of the Malazans, the foreigners, I mean.’

‘You cannot speak for the foreigners.’

‘No, but Brys Beddict and his army will be escorting them, and so guarantee that nothing treacherous will take place-’

‘Hah! Bolkando is already warring with the foreigners’ allies!’

Bugg snorted. ‘Thus revealing to you that the much acclaimed Bolkando Alliance has a straw spine,’ he pointed out. ‘Leave the Bolkando to sort out their own mess. As for the Malazans, assure Irkullas, they are not interested in you or your lands.’

The emissary’s eyes had narrowed, his expression one of deep, probably pathological suspicion. ‘I shall convey your words. Now, what gift must I take back to Irkullas?’

Tehol rubbed his chin. ‘How does a wagonload of silks, linens, quality iron bars and a hundred or so silver ingots sound, sir?’

The man blinked.

‘Outmoded traditions are best left behind, I’m sure Sceptre Irkullas will agree. Go, then, with our blessing.’

The man bowed and then walked off, weaving as if drunk.

Tehol turned to Janath and smiled.

She rolled her eyes. ‘Now the poor bastard has to reciprocate in kind-which will likely impoverish him. Those old traditions survived for a reason, husband.’

‘He won’t be impoverished with the haul I just sent his way.’

‘But he’ll need to divide it up among his warleaders, to buy their loyalty.’

‘He would have done that anyway,’ said Tehol. ‘And where did this insane notion of buying loyalty come from? It’s a contradiction in terms.’

‘The currency is obligation,’ said Bugg. ‘Gifts force honour upon the receiver. Sire, I must speak with you now as the Ceda. The journey Brys intends is more fraught than we had initially thought. I fear for his fate and that of his legions.’

‘This relates, I assume,’ said Janath, ‘to the unknown motives of the Malazans. But Brys is not compelled to accompany them beyond the Wastelands, is he? Indeed, is it not his intention to return once that expanse is successfully crossed?’

Bugg nodded. ‘Alas, I now believe that the Wastelands are where the greatest peril waits.’ He hesitated, and then said, ‘Blood has been spilled on those ancient soils. There will be more to come.’

Tags: Steven Erikson The Malazan Book of the Fallen Fantasy
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