But they were not wearing uniforms. Not Malazan deserters, then. Or worse: survivors .
Brys slowed his horse, glanced back at her, and, seeing his relief, she nodded. He’d feared the same. But in some ways, she realized, this was even more disturbing, as if the Bonehunters had truly vanished, their fate unknown and possibly unknowable. Like ghosts.
She had to struggle against thinking of them as being already dead. In her mind rose visions of hollowed eye sockets, withered skin splitting over bones – the image was horrifying, yet it haunted her. She could see the edge of the Glass Desert off to the east, heat shimmering in a wall, rising like a barrier beyond which the soil lost all life.
They reined in. Brys studied the three strangers for a moment, and then said, ‘Welcome.’
The woman in the front turned her head and spoke to her comrades. ‘ Gesros Latherii stigan thal. Ur leszt .’
The other woman, short and plump but with the blotchy, sagging cheeks that denoted dehydration, frowned and said, ‘ Hegoran stig Daru? ’
‘ Ur hedon ap ,’ replied the first woman. She was taller than the other one, with shoulder-length dark brown hair. She had the eyes of someone used to pain. Facing Brys again, she said, ‘Latherii Ehrlii? Are you Ehrlii speak? Are you speak Latherii?’
‘Letherii,’ Brys corrected. ‘The language of the First Empire.’
‘First Empire,’ the woman repeated, matching perfectly Brys’s intonation. ‘Slums – er, lowborn stig— dialect. Ehrlitan.’
The plump woman snapped, ‘ Turul berys? Turul berys? ’
The first woman sighed. ‘Please. Water?’
Brys gestured to the preda commanding the lancers. ‘Give them something to drink. They’re in a bad way.’
‘Commander, our own supplies—’
‘Do it, Preda. Three more in our army won’t make much difference either way. And find a cutter – the sun has roasted them.’ He nodded to the first woman. ‘I am Commander Brys Beddict. We march to war, I’m afraid. You are welcome to travel with us for as long as you desire, but once we enter enemy territory, unless you remain with us, I cannot guarantee your safety.’
Of course he didn’t call himself a prince. Just a commander. Noble titles still sat uneasily with him .