Kellanved's Reach

Later, as the afternoon waned, a call went up from the high shrouds and everyone, Nedurian included, looked to the west. After a few moments he caught a glimpse: the bonfire atop the great lighthouse at the end of the Dariyal harbour mole. Defensive lookout during the day, and light to guide Napan mariners by night.

There was certainly no turning back now, for if they could see the lighthouse, then the Napan lookouts could see them.

*

It was a statement of where the Napan Isles’ power and interest lay that the traditional palace of the kings stood next to Dariyal’s harbour. Tarel hated the damp draughty place, and planned to move to the upland estate district of the capital once he’d settled things with his sister, which looked to be soon.

He and his inner circle of advisers – those who had backed him early on and now held high political appointments from him, and were profiting mightily from said positions – all waited, laughing a touch nervously and loudly, in one of the guardrooms overlooking the harbour while a steady stream of messengers came and went.

‘Fewer than fifty ships, you say?’ Tarel demanded of one naval officer messenger.

This officer bowed. ‘So say the lookouts.’

Tarel turned to High Admiral Karesh, frankly incredulous. ‘So few? Could this be a trick?’

The admiral shook his head. ‘No, my lord. Our spies on Malaz reported such numbers. This is all their complement, thrown in together against us. This usurper mage is a fool,’ he added, and chuckled in a self-satisfied way that irritated Tarel.

‘My sister is no fool,’ he snapped.

Admiral Karesh bowed, hands fluttering. ‘Of course, m’lord. But what choice does she have? She has thrown in her lot with these criminals and murderers.’

Tarel nodded to himself while peering through an arrow slit to the waters beyond the harbour. Yes, criminals and murderers. A dark mage and an assassin who – and he could not help but rub his neck – reportedly had already killed one king … ‘I do not see them,’ he complained.

‘Soon, m’lord. Then, as agreed, we allow them to push into the harbour. There they will not find us unprepared and surprised. Every vessel is already manned and crammed with soldiers. We will overwhelm them.’ He finished, confidently, ‘Not one Malazan ship will escape.’

Tarel eyed the corpulent fellow uneasily. He did not like such confidence – to him it bespoke stupidity. ‘My sister will be on board one of those vessels. It is her I do not want to escape.’

Admiral Karesh bowed again. ‘Of course, m’lord.’

Tarel found the eye of a waiting messenger. ‘A hundred gold Untan crowns to whoever brings me the head of the traitor Lady Sureth.’

The messenger bowed and darted from the chamber.

Admiral Karesh pursed his thick lips in disapproval. ‘Unnecessary, m’lord.’

‘It should help the fighting spirit, I imagine,’ Tarel opined, eyeing the open waters anew. He clenched and unclenched his hands and found them damp. What had he forgotten? Had he forgotten anything? Those impetuous lawless Malazans would be encircled and eliminated – along with his sister who sought refuge with them. Malaz would then be his for the plucking, and Nap would once again rule the southern seas.

All under his rule. He might go down in history as among the greatest of her kings and queens.

And as for this dread dark mage who had taken the island in his fist. Well, he had his check in place for that contingency as well.

What more could one do? One placed the pieces on the board as best one might and prayed. It was all in the hands of the gods now, and he must await with everyone else the turning of the throw.

Chapter 10

As if having lost her nerve for the coming fight, the Twisted peeled away from the flotilla at the last possible moment. She swept west, skirting along the base of the salt-stained stones of a towering seawall. Dancer watched from the side while the skeleton crew of volunteer sailors dashed from line to line, adjusting their running.

‘They’ll let us go,’ opined the veteran sailor on the wheel, Brendan. He’d been promoted to captain of the vessel but somehow couldn’t part from his usual station. ‘One less ship to fight.’

Dancer nodded his distracted agreement. Getting to shore somewhere, somehow, and relatively undetected, was the puzzle that occupied him. But – his gaze strayed to the shut cabin door – it wasn’t his responsibility. That lay elsewhere.

Surly’s Napans watched from the side as well, Surly herself among them. How they had howled when she climbed aboard! But what could they do? Throw her off? She’d played her hand well; demurring and quietly agreeing to Cartheron’s advice to hold back, all the while fully intending to come along anyway.

The main body of the force was some thirty Malazan fighters, hand-picked and led by Dassem, and including their early recruit Dujek and his shadow, Jack.