Throatslitter hissed laughter. ‘Hear that, Masan Gilani? You can stop showing all that sweet flesh now.’
‘I am not sure,’ the Adjunct said, ‘the decision is yours to make, Atri-Preda.’
‘That rank is now gone. You may address me as Queen or, if you like, as Twilight.’
Shurq Elalle saw Deadsmell’s eyes flick open then, saw them fix hard and unblinking on Yan Tovis.
The Adjunct missed nothing, for she glanced at Deadsmell for a moment, then away again.
‘Twilight, Watch and Rise,’ Deadsmell muttered. ‘Covered the whole night, haven’t ya? But damn me, the blood’s awful thin. Your skin’s the colour of clay-couldn’t have been more than a handful at the start, probably refugees hiding among the local savages. A pathetic handful, but the old titles remained. Guarding the Shores of Night.’
Yan Tovis licked her lips. ‘Just the Shore,’ she said.
Deadsmell smiled. ‘Lost the rest, did you?’
‘Corporal,’ Tavore said.
‘Our squad spent time on the right ship,’ Deadsmell explained. ‘Enough for me to do plenty of talking with our black-skinned guests. Twilight,’ he said to Yan Tovis, ‘that’s a Letherii word you use. Would you be surprised if I told you the word for “twilight”, in your original language, was “yenander”? And that “antovis” meant “night” or even “dark”? Your own name is your title, and I can see by your expression that you didn’t even know it. Yedan Derryg? Not sure what “derryg” is-we’ll need to ask Sandalath-but “yedanas” is “watch”, both act and title. Gods below, what wave was that? The very first? And why the Shore? Because that’s where newborn K’Chain Che’Malle came from, isn’t it? The ones not claimed by a Matron, that is.’ His hard eyes held on Yan Tovis a moment longer, then he settled back once more and closed his eyes.
Errant fend, is he going to do that all evening?
‘I do not know what he is talking about,’ Yan Tovis said, but it was clear that she had been rattled. ‘You are all foreigners-what can you know of the Shake? We are barely worth mentioning even in Letherii history.’
‘Twilight,’ said Tavore, ‘you are here to assert your title as Queen-will you also proclaim this island sovereign?’
‘Yes.’
‘And, in that capacity, do you seek to treat with us?’
‘The sooner I can negotiate you Malazans off this island, the happier I will be. And you, as well.’
‘Why is that?’
The mage named Widdershins spoke up, ‘Those refugees of hers, Adjunct. One big squall of witches and warlocks. Oh, squiggily stuff for the most part-fouling water and cursin’ us with the runs and boils and the like. Mind, they could get together and work nastier rituals…’
Shurq Elalle stared at the strange man. Squiggily?
‘Yes,’ said Yan Tovis. ‘They could become troublesome.’
Gait grunted. ‘So saving all their lives don’t count for nothing?’
‘It does, of course. But, like all things, even gratitude wanes in time, soldier. Especially when the deed hangs over us like an executioner’s axe.’
Gait’s scowl deepened, then he prodded Yedan Derryg with his sword. ‘I need to keep this here?’ he asked.
The bearded, helmed soldier seemed to chew on his reply before answering, ‘That is for my Queen to decide.’
‘Belay my last order,’ Yan Tovis said. ‘We can deal with Brullyg later.’
‘Like demon-spawn you will!’ Brullyg drew himself up. Adjunct Tavore Paran, I hereby seek your protection. Since I have co-operated with you from the very start, the least you can do is keep me alive. Sail me to the mainland if that suits. I don’t care where I end up-just not in that woman’s clutches.’
Shurq Elalle smiled at the fool. Only everything you don’t deserve, Brullyg. Mercy? In the Errant’s fart, that’s where you’ll find that.
Tavore’s voice was suddenly cold. ‘Shake Brullyg, your assistance is duly noted, and you have our gratitude, although I do seem to recall something about this island’s imminent destruction beneath a sea of ice-which we prevented and continue to prevent. It may please the Queen that we do not intend to remain here much longer.’
Brullyg paled. ‘But what about that ice?’ he demanded. ‘If you leave-’
‘As the season warms,’ Tavore said, ‘the threat diminishes. Literally.’
‘So what holds you here?’ Yan Tovis demanded.
‘We seek a pilot to the Lether River. And Letheras.’
Silence again. Shurq Elalle, who had been gleefully observing Brullyg’s emotional dissolution, slowly frowned. Then looked round. All eyes were fixed on her. What had the Adjunct just said? Oh. The Lether River and Letheras.
And a pilot to guide their invasion fleet.
‘What’s that smell?’ Widdershins suddenly asked.
Shurq scowled. ‘The Errant’s fart, is my guess.’
Chapter Eighteen