Reaper's Gale (The Malazan Book of the Fallen #7) - Page 431/470

He continued looking round, feeling a heavy lassitude settle on his shoulders.

As with Letheras, so with empire.

Rautos Hivanar set out, to walk a dying city.

Five men meaning no good were camped out in the old Tarthenal cemetery. Frowning, Ublala Pung strode out of the darkness and into their midst. His fists flew. A few moments later he was standing amidst five motionless bodies. He picked up the first one and carried it to the pit left behind by a huge fallen tree, threw it in the sodden hole. Then went back for the others.

A short time later he stamped out the small fire and began clearing a space, pulling grass, tossing stones. He went down on his knees to tug loose the smaller weeds, and slowly crawled in an expanding spiral.

Overhead, the hazy moon was still on the rise, and somewhere to the north buildings burned. He needed to be done by dawn. The ground cleared, a wide, circular space of nothing but bared earth. It could be lumpy. That was all right, and it was good that it was all right since cemeteries were lumpy places.

Hearing a moan from the hole where the tree had been, Ublala rose, brushed the dirt from his knees and then his hands, and walked over. Edging down into the pit, he stared at the grey forms until he figured out which one was coming round. Then he crouched and punched the man in the head a few more times, until the moaning stopped. Satisfied, he returned to his clearing.

By dawn, yes.

Because at dawn, Ublala Pung knew, the Emperor would lift his cursed sword, and standing across from him, on that arena floor, would be Karsa Orlong.

In a secret chamber-what had once been a tomb of some kind-Ormly, the Champion Rat Catcher, sat down opposite an enormously fat woman. He scowled. ‘You don’t need that down here, Rucket.’

‘True,’ she replied, ‘but I’ve grown used to it. You would not believe the power being huge engenders. The intimidation. You know, when things finally get better and there’s plenty of food to be had again, I’m thinking of doing this for real.’

‘But that’s just my point,’ Ormly replied, leaning forward. ‘It’s all padding and padding don’t weigh anything like the real thing. You’ll get tired walking across a room. Your knees will hurt. Your breaths will get shorter because the lungs can’t expand enough. You’ll get stretch marks even though you’ve never had a baby-’

‘So if I get pregnant too then it’ll be all right?’

‘Except for all that other stuff, why yes, I suppose it would. Not that anybody could tell.’

‘Ormly, you are a complete idiot.’

‘But good at my job.’

To that, Rucket nodded. ‘And so? How did it go?’

Ormly squinted across at her, then scratched his stubbly jaw. ‘It’s a problem.’

‘Serious?’

‘Serious.’

‘How serious?’

‘About as serious as it can get.’

‘Hmmm. No word from Selush?’

‘Not yet. And you’re right, we’ll have to wait for that.’

‘But our people are in the right place, yes? No trouble with all the riots and such?’

‘We’re good on that count, Rucket. Hardly popular sites, are they?’

‘So has there been any change in the time of execution?’

Ormly shrugged. ‘We’ll see come dawn, assuming any criers are still working. I sure hope not, Rucket. Even as it is, we may fail. You do know that, don’t you?’

She sighed. ‘That would be tragic. No, heartbreaking.’

‘You actually love him?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. Hard not to, really. I’d have competition, though.’

‘That scholar? Well, unless they’re in the same cell, I don’t think you need worry.’

‘Like I said, you’re an idiot. Of course I’m worrying, but not about competition. I’m worried for him. I’m worried for her. I’m worried that all this will go wrong and Karos Invictad will have his triumph. We’re running out of time.’

Ormly nodded.

‘So, do you have any good news?’ she asked.

‘Not sure if it’s good but it’s interesting.’

‘What?’

‘Ublala Pung’s gone insane.’

Rucket shook her head. ‘Not possible. He hasn’t enough brains to go insane.’

‘Well, he beat up five scribers hiding out from the riots in the Tarthenal cemetery, and now he’s crawling around on his hands and knees and pinching weeds.’

‘So what’s all that about?’