That's the way it is.'
'Tavore sent us into the Imperial Warren, Kal. Why?'
The assassin shrugged. 'All right, like you said, she's a mystery.'
Quick Ben moved further into the narrow space between cargo. 'Here, there's room.'
After a moment, Kalam joined him. 'You got anything to eat? Drink?'
'Naturally.'
'Good.'
****
As the lookouts cried out the sighting of Sepik, Apsalar made her way forward. The Adjunct, Nil, Keneb and Nether were already on the forecastle. The sun, low on the horizon to the west, lit the rising mass of land two pegs to starboard with a golden glow. Ahead, the lead ships of the fleet, two dromons, were drawing near.
Reaching the rail, Apsalar found she could now make out the harbour city tucked in its halfmoon bay. No smoke rose from the tiers, and in the harbour itself, a mere handful of ships rode at anchor; the nearest one had clearly lost its bow anchor – some snag had hung the trader craft up, heeling it to one side so that its starboard rail was very nearly under water.
Keneb was speaking, 'Sighting Sepik,' he said in a tone that suggested he was repeating himself, 'should have been four, maybe five days away.'
Apsalar watched the two dromons work into the city's bay. One of them was Nok's own flagship.
'Something is wrong,' Nether said.
'Fist Keneb,' the Adjunct said quietly, 'stand down the marines.'
'Adjunct?'
'We shall be making no landfall-'
At that moment, Apsalar saw the foremost dromon suddenly balk, as if it had inexplicably lost headway – and its crew raced like frenzied ants, sails buckling overhead. A moment later the same activity struck Nok's ship, and a signal flag began working its way upward.
Beyond the two warcraft, the city of Sepik exploded into life.
Gulls. Tens of thousands, rising from the streets, the buildings. In their midst, the black tatters of crows, island vultures, lifting like flakes of ash amidst the swirling smoke of the white gulls. Rising, billowing, casting a chaotic shadow over the city.
Nether whispered, 'They're all dead.'
'The Tiste Edur have visited,' Apsalar said.
Tavore faced her. 'Is slaughter their answer to everything?'
'They found their own kind, Adjunct, a remnant population. Subject, little more than slaves. They are not reluctant to unleash their fury, these Edur.'
'How do you know this, Bridgeburner?'