Kellanved's Reach

He turned, blinking in the dim yellow lamplight, to face his closest allies among the ruling council of Nap. Or rather, his most browbeaten, blackmailed, foolish and servile cronies among the Napan Council of Elders. Lady Elaina of the Ravanna line, as desperate to retain the prerogatives and privileges of her aristocratic class as she was determined to retain her line’s riches. Torlo of the Torlo Trading House, as bought and paid for as any of his illicit goods. Lord Kobay of the Medalla line, whose unsavoury habits had placed him under Tarel’s heel. And High Admiral Karesh, lord of all the Napan fleets, a deluded pontificating fool who owed his rank, estate and riches entirely to Tarel’s patronage.

Lady Elaina rounded upon him, pointing an age-spotted hand. ‘What now, Tarel? You have thrown away good troops for nothing!’

‘Commander Clementh has assumed all responsibility for the debacle. She is imprisoned now in the cells below.’

‘She is from a noble family …’ Lord Kobay warned, his barrel stomach making his voice a low rumble, and he making the most of that.

‘Oh, shut up, you idiot!’ Lady Elaina snapped.

Torlo, the eldest of the Council of Elders by far, raised a frail thin hand for silence. ‘Perhaps this dark mage she has enlisted with can be bought …’

‘I doubt it,’ Tarel answered. ‘From all reports all he desires is power. But you are not too far from the mark, I think, Torlo.’

‘Meaning what?’ High Admiral Karesh asked.

‘That this mage may be a weakness.’

Lady Elaina waved her disbelief. ‘How so? Everyone agrees he is fearsome.’

Tarel nodded his agreement. ‘Exactly. And mages are a notoriously envious and jealous breed. Many suffer no rivals. His growing repute has won him enemies.’ He crossed his arms, peering right and left – no turning back now. ‘And one has contacted me to let me know her willingness to confront the fellow.’

Torlo’s already narrow gaze slit even more, making his resemblance to a carrion bird even greater. ‘Who? And how much?’

Tarel crooked a smile; of course Torlo, the canny merchant, would immediately turn to money. He raised a hand in reassurance. ‘I will get to that. As to costs, no cost at all. Just permission to meet him here.’

Lady Elaina clutched her wrinkled neck. ‘Here! He is here?’

Tarel worked hard to keep his annoyance from his face – he wanted to bark at the old aristocrat: Not now, you stupid hag! Instead, he said through tight lips, ‘When the time comes.’

‘And that time?’ the admiral asked.

Tarel nodded his gratitude for the question. The one to bring him to the issue of the night. He cleared his throat. ‘When my sister invades.’

All four co-conspirators displayed their disbelief.

‘All the admirals agree the Malazans are far from ready,’ said Admiral Karesh. ‘And wouldn’t invade in any case. Everyone agrees they are much more likely to raid the mainland for funds and materiel.’

‘My agents on the island report those pirates are busy doing just that,’ supplied Lord Kobay.

Tarel waited for them to quieten then shook his head. ‘You do not know my sister. She is utterly pitiless. She will come for me – I know this. And …’ he pointed to all four, ‘she will come for those who conspired against her as well.’

Lady Elaina regarded him and sighed. ‘It is time to let her go, my king. She is nothing now. She has sold herself to these evil allies – imagine, an assassin and a dark mage! She is their creature now. A slave, no doubt.’

But Tarel knew he could not ‘let her go’. Nor could he possibly convince these four of what he knew of her. None of them grew up in the royal household. None of them knew that the old king, his father, would lean to Sureth and murmur a name and later that man or woman would disappear, or suffer an accident, or be waylaid and murdered by brigands.

She had been his assassin from the start. The dagger in his right hand.

Yet no one ever saw it. Only he. Only watchful Tarel. He’d seen through her all along.

Which was why he struck first to take the throne. He had to. It was a question of self-preservation. So long as she lived, his life was worth a basket of rotting fish.

None of these gaping fools could possibly understand any of this.

He swept a hand before him. ‘She is coming, and that is that. We must prepare. Therefore … with your permission …’ He clapped his hands lightly, twice, and faced a corner of the murky room. ‘A visitor.’

The darkness thickened to the blackness of wet ink. Lady Elaina gasped her dread of sorcery. Lord Kobay rumbled his unease. A burst of air came then, like a gust through a window. Dust blew about the room and the glasses on the table rattled.

Out of the murk stepped an aged woman in long loose robes. Her hair was a dramatic mane of greyish silver, her lined features sun-darkened to the hue of ancient wood. Her most striking feature, however, was her eyes. They flashed a silver light as if dusted in that precious metal.