* * *
The Imperial Council was convened in new quarters: one of the oldest of Imperial holdings in the capital city – the ancient castle of the old Untan city state overlooking the broad arc of the harbour. Possum, first to arrive in what proved to be a bare stone-walled room, tried to puzzle out the hidden message in this sudden new venue of Laseen's rulership. Was it a subtle reminder for the council of the traditional Untan ruling family, eradicated by Kellanved, Dancer, and, he constantly struggled to keep in mind, Laseen herself? A table only, no chairs, no food or wine in evidence – a calculated insult? But why bother? The council and Laseen were hardly on speaking terms; each treated the other as irrelevant.
It was, he reflected, dragging a gloved finger through the dust layering the thick embrasure of the single window, a damned inefficient way to run an empire. Through his control of the Assembly Mallick held the treasury and the government bureaucracy. Meanwhile, as Sword of the Empire, Korbolo Dom commanded the military. That is, what remained of it. Tayschrenn's continued unsettling silence and Quick Ben's desertion to follow Tavore left command of the Imperial Mage Cadre to the completely unknown Havva Gulen – once Archiveress of Imperial Records. A librarian. Gods above and below, Possum brushed the dust from his hands, the new Imperial High Mage was an ex-librarian. The old emperor, who some say ascended to godhood after his death, must be falling off his throne laughing.
The heavy door rattled open and in strode High Fist Anand, commander of the Malazan 4th Army, its domestic defence forces, which by Possum's intelligence sources now mustered less than twenty thousand men all told. The old commander stopped short at the threshold of the empty room. His white brows rose in silent comment. Possum shrugged.
Pursing his lips as if to say ‘well, well’, Anand crossed to the table, began sifting through the maps provided.
Possum rocked back and forth on his heels. And what of the Claw? He followed Laseen's command, for now. Yet knives were being sharpened all down the hierarchy. It was just a question of where they would be pointed.
The door opened once more and in came the tall and broad figure of Havva Gulen wrapped in dark robes. Again Possum gauged first reactions. A pause of rapid blinking followed by a wide sly smile. Possum gave a nod in welcome, thinking that he just might come to like this new High Mage – despite her matted unwashed hair and ink-spotted robes.
‘Chilly in here,’ she offered with a mock shudder.
He smiled. ‘Palpably.’
‘It's the wind off the straits,’ Anand said without looking up.
Havva and Possum shared a wry look. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Looks like the wind is changing.’
The door banged open. Possum watched surprise, consternation and finally anger darken the blue-Napan features of the Sword of the Empire, Korbolo Dom. ‘What is the meaning of this?’ Possum shrugged. Havva studied Korbolo the way a scholar might examine a curious specimen. Anand did not even bother to look up from the map table. ‘Look at this!’ Korbolo waved a hand about the room. ‘This is an insult!’
‘Rather appropriate, I should think,’ said Possum.
Korbolo turned on him. ‘You! Why are you even here? You are irrelevant.’
Possum opened his mouth to make the obvious reply when Havva cut in, ‘Perhaps we all are, Sword of the Empire. Have you considered that?’
‘What are you going on about, woman?’
She glanced about the bare walls. ‘In the old days, when a councillor to the King or any high military officer was called to a meeting only to find himself delivered to an empty prison-like room … well, the conclusion would be inescapable, don't you think?’ She put a fat, ink-stained finger to her mouth. ‘Shall we perhaps try the door? Does it even open from the inside, do you think?’
Korbolo stared at the High Mage, his eyes bulging. Possum could not hold back a laugh. The door rattled and everyone glanced to it; Mallick stood in the threshold, blinking. ‘Nothing important missed, I trust?’
‘Nothing important,’ said Possum, ‘just us talking.’
Smiling, Mallick rubbed his pale hands together. ‘Good.’ He shut the door, peered about the room. ‘How very severe. Proper war footing, yes? I see we have quorum. Let us begin. High Fist Anand, the Assembly asks me to humbly convey their concerns. How go domestic preparations?’
Anand looked up, frowning. ‘Assembly? What Assembly? What can it possibly consist of now? You and your dog?’
Mallick's bland smile on his round moon-like face did not waver. ‘Assurances, commander. We have maintained full membership throughout traitorous desertions. Brave new representatives have consented to sit. All provisional, of course, until peace and order restored.’
‘And how much did that cost,’ Anand muttered into his maps. Sighing, he shrugged his high thin shoulders. ‘It is going as well as can be hoped given how hamstrung we are. We've lost most of our resources across the continent. Entire regiments have fallen back to their roots and come out as Itko Kanese or Grisan. Ugly rumours of ethnic slaughters accompany those reports. Armouries have been confiscated; ships impounded. The shortage of competent mages means communication by the old ways of road and sea. It's a damned mess.’
‘And what would you advise?’
Korbolo cut in, ‘You forget yourself, Mallick. As First Sword I determine strategy.’
Mallick merely raised a placating hand. A hand like a blind fish drawn up from the depths, thought Possum, suppressing a shudder. ‘Merely canvassing for opinions. We are here to discuss, after all. Indulgence please. High Fist Anand?’
The glower that knuckled Korbolo's face told Possum that the First Sword was seriously wondering just how much longer to indulge Mallick.
Anand frowned, his white brows drawing down to almost hide his eyes. ‘We can't be certain of any territory, therefore we must consolidate. Secure from the centre outward.’
‘Excellent. And you, Sword of the Empire? Your opinion?’
Korbolo scowled, almost pouting. ‘I disagree. We must move with all speed.’
Mallick folded his hands across his paunch. ‘So. Opposing strategies. Perhaps this is good in that relative merits may be examined.’
Possum could not take his eyes from the fat little man. He'd done it again – taken charge. How did he do it? Was it some weakness in their collective character, or strength of a trait in him? Again Possum felt unnerved by the little man's presence, as if Mallick were something other, something less, or more, than what he appeared. It reminded Possum of a similar situation from long ago. One he could not quite place.
The door opened once again. All straightened, turning. Laseen entered. She wore her signature plain slippers, straight trousers and green silk tunic. No symbol of rank or standing upon her – it had long ago occurred to Possum that this lack was not an affectation; the woman simply did not need them to let anyone know who she was. It was in her eyes, her posture: sovereignty. She was shorter than Possum but he always had the impression she was looking down at him. The deepened lines bracketing her thin mouth told him she was not pleased.
A curt nod acknowledged their obeisance. ‘You have had a chance to talk?’
‘Yes,’ said Mallick. ‘We were just—’
‘A brief, if you please, High Fist Anand,’ Laseen cut through Mallick.
Mallick's mouth snapped shut like a fish. Beneath his short greying beard, Anand gave his first smile. ‘A pleasure, Your Highness. I was merely awaiting your arrival. Our sources, such as they are, agree that an army is marching in all haste from Tali. It is gathering forces as it moves east. It seems this insurgent Duchess Ghelel is quite certain of her control. Enough to accompany the army, in any case—’
‘A Duchess,’ snorted Korbolo. ‘How absurd!’
Possum shot a glance to the Empress whose mouth tightened even further. Havva, he saw, grinned openly. ‘Or those who control her,’ Korbolo continued, unaware.
Again a shrug like an ungainly seabird adjusting its wings. ‘Irrelevant to me. I deal with certainties. Also,’ Anand's gaze moved to Possum, ‘not my department.’
Possum declined to respond. Anand cleared his throat. ‘A rendezvous is no doubt planned with the Seti who have come out strong in favour of independence.’ The old commander waved a hand dismissively. ‘Some kind of traditionalist movement, I understand. A generation too late, I'd say. In any case, they've dug up a competent warlord who has taken control of the plains and effectively severed all communications. He's cut the continent in half, whoever he is.’
‘Their goal?’ Laseen prompted.
Korbolo Dom could contain himself no longer. ‘Their goal? Destroy us, of course! Empress, with all due respect, I suggest you leave such matters to your military commanders. We will settle strategy.’
‘First Sword!’ Laseen snapped, almost cutting the air between them. ‘You are here to advise. And I must remind you that since you possess the title of First Sword of the Empire, you thus command only in the field. Dassem himself deferred to others in matters of strategy.’
Yes, Possum reflected, and should the intelligences he had received be true, among those commanders would be the very names now assembled against them.
Laseen returned to Anand. ‘High Fist?’
‘Their goal is the same as ours. Consolidation, step by step. Once they take Li Heng then they will threaten Cawn. Then the Kanese will join them for fear of being left behind and having no presence behind the new throne. From there it's a quick march on good roads to us.’
Into the silence following that Laseen asked, ‘Our options?’
‘We have only two. We can await them here and hope to break them, or meet them in the field and hope to break them there.’
‘Thank you, High Fist. First Sword, your assessment?’
Korbolo bared his clenched teeth. ‘To say that we have only two courses of action, to stay or to march, is too much of an oversimplification to be of any use at all! Of course that is true. Any fool can see this.’
Havva smiled her ironic agreement while Anand merely raised a brow.
‘What would be your advice?’
‘We must move, Empress. Your pardon, but this slow deliberation is seen by all as hesitation and weakness.’
‘Thank you, First Sword. Havva, your evaluation?’
The Empire's new High Mage steepled her fingers at her broad chest. ‘Empress, if there is any consolation to be gained from the thinning of our mage corps, it is that this sad state extends to our enemies as well. My compatriots and I are of the opinion that no mage of any stature can be fielded by them. Regrettably, they can say the same of us. That is, unless …’
Laseen's lips tightened white. ‘He is not to be counted on.’
‘I thought not. As do they, apparently, else they would not be proceeding. So, I shall strive to do my best. An option, though – perhaps a few of the cadre mages from our overseas holdings …’
‘No.’
‘No?’ This from Korbolo. ‘Why not? They are ours to command. If these nationalists have few mages as Havva claims, then should we not strengthen ourselves in this very regard? Strike them where they are weak. And on the subject – where is the Imperial Navy? Where is Admiral Nok? Why does he not simply land in Quon harbour, take the city?’
It seemed to Possum that Laseen met this outburst with amazing equanimity. She clasped her hands behind her back, as if mistrusting what she might be tempted to do. She cocked her head to Anand without taking her hooded gaze from Korbolo Dom. ‘Why would that be, High Fist?’
‘Because this Duchess would simply turn around, retake her city, and we'd be back to square one.’
‘Then Admiral Nok should—’
‘Enough!’
Possum flinched at the snap in that command. Korbolo, however, did not bother to disguise his seething frustration.
‘We are on our own, Sword of the Empire,’ Laseen said, her tone final. ‘My commands to Nok cannot be countered. I have given over to him maintenance of our overseas holdings. He is fully committed with the logistics of supply, troop transport, relief and reinforcement. Expect no succour. We must win back the continent, or be destroyed in the attempt.’
Throughout, Possum noted, Mallick had remained silent, pudgy hands clasped at his stomach, eyes downcast, his thick lips slightly pursed as if in thought. Now he raised his gaze, opened his hands. ‘Your orders, then, Empress?’
‘For now, as our military hierarchy suggests – gather forces. I want Unta province back under our control. I want those nobles back in the capital with their forces.’ Her gaze swung to Possum. ‘Clawmaster, take family members hostage to ensure cooperation, starting tonight.’
Possum smiled his acknowledgement.
‘In one sense time is now on our side. Theirs is an uneasy alliance of new rulers jealous of their independence. If we can hold out long enough it will unravel. We will do all we can to help that process along. Havva, Possum, send out missives to all your contacts arguing that Tali intends to reassert its old hegemony. Make overtures to Dal Hon. Send messages to the Bloorian nobles that the Gris have been promised their lands. Begin a campaign of mutual suspicion and disinformation that will leave them unable to recognize the truth.’
The High Mage and the Clawmaster bowed.
‘And Clawmaster,’ Laseen continued, ‘general intelligence?’
Possum shrugged dismissively. ‘The streets are awash in rumours, of course. But nothing worthy of following. One persistent story does seem to be gathering strength despite its improbability. There's talk of the Crimson Guard's return.’
Anand barked a laugh. ‘Every year they're supposed to show up. Those old tales resurface any time morale is low. They're like a dose of the clap. We never seem able to shake them off entirely.’
Laseen smiled thinly. ‘Then let us hope they do oblige us, High Fist. It will give us a chance to finally rid ourselves of them.’
‘You're so certain?’ This from Havva.
‘Yes. They'd be fools to come back, and K'azz was no fool.’
Possum noted Mallick watching Laseen more intently than during the entire meeting. The fat man's lips drew down in thought and he lowered his gaze.
‘This council has ended. You are dismissed.’
‘As the Empress commands,’ all responded, even Korbolo.
Laseen caught Possum's eye. ‘A word, Clawmaster.’
Possum held back while the others withdrew. Now his time had come. He could delay no longer. What would it be? Denial? Rage? He had to admit to a certain curiosity, even if he feared the cliched killing of the messenger. The door closed and he and the Empress were alone. She went to the single window, stood facing out, hands clasped at her back.
‘Your silence tells me all I need to know, Possum.’ She glanced back, sidelong. ‘You stand distant, close by the door. Am I that terrifying a tyrant?’
For the life of him, Possum did not know how to respond. Topper, now he would not have had any reservations. How familiar Topper had been with her! Or Pearl … he'd have some glib line. Ever ready with the facile patter that man had been. Like oral flatulence. But not Possum. His expertise was lying low. Now he was being called to creep out into the light. How bright the glare!
‘Names, Clawmaster.’
Possum cleared his throat, tried to speak, found his mouth too dry. He wondered distantly at this: fear for himself? Or pity for the pain he must convey? ‘Amaron,’ he managed. Toc the Elder, Choss and … Urko.’
‘So – Toc. He is this Seti warlord, is he not?’
‘Yes.’
‘Yet Anand does not know.’
‘No. Very few are aware – bad for morale, yes?’
Silence. A back so tense Possum imagined it incapable of flexing. Watching her standing there all alone taking this news of the betrayal of so many old companions, Possum settled on pity.
‘Leave me,’ she said, her voice still under ruthless control.
Possum bowed and exited pulling the door tight behind him. To the guards outside he said, ‘The Empress does not wish to be disturbed.’