'Aren't you?' With all the strength she could muster, the Mhybe flung the bowl away, heard it splash, bounce off something, heard a shout of surprise from Murillio, who — it seemed — had the misfortune to be in its path of flight. 'Guard me!' she hissed. 'Feed me! Watch me so I don't take my own life! And this is not a conspiracy? And my daughter —
The hand tightened on her shoulder. Korlat's voice, when she spoke, was low yet taut. 'I hear you, my friend. I shall get to the bottom of this. I shall discover the truth, and then I shall tell you. This I promise, Mhybe.'
'Then tell me, what has happened? Earlier today. I felt … something. An event. Coll and Murillio spoke of a scene between Kruppe and Brood. Tell me, where was Silverfox in all this?'
'She was there,' Korlat replied. 'She joined me as I rode forward in answer to Whiskeyjack's summons. I will be honest, Mhybe. Something indeed did occur, before the clash between Brood and Kruppe. Your daughter has found … protectors, but she will not extend that protection to you — for some reason she believes you are in danger, now. I do not know the source.'
Korlat drew a deep breath, let it out slowly. 'Silverfox asked that I say nothing to you of them. I could not understand why, yet I acquiesced. I realize now that to do so was wrong. Wrong to you, Mhybe. A conspiracy, and I shall not be party to it. Your daughter's protectors were wolves. Ancient, giant beasts-'
Terror ripped through the Mhybe. Snarling, she flung a hand at Korlat's face, felt her nails tear through skin. 'My hunters!' she screamed as the Tiste Andii flinched away. 'They want to kill me! My daughter-'
Coll and Murillio had leapt onto the wagon, were shouting in alarm even as Korlat hissed at them to calm down, but the Mhybe ceased hearing them, ceased seeing anything of the world surrounding her at that moment. She continued thrashing, nails clawing the air, betrayal searing through her chest, turning her heart into ashes.
Whiskeyjack's half-smile vanished when he turned upon Korlat's arrival, to see that her eyes were as white hot iron, to see as she stalked through the tent's entrance four parallel slashes on her right cheek, wet with blood that had run down to the line of her jaw and now dripped onto the rushes covering the floor.
The Malazan almost stepped back as the Tiste Andii strode towards him. 'Korlat, what has happened?'
'Hear my words, lover,' the woman grated in an icy voice. 'Whatever secrets you have withheld from me — about Tattersail reborn, about those damned T'lan Ay, about what you've instructed those two marines guarding the child to say to the Mhybe — you will tell me. Now.'
He felt himself grow cold, felt his face twitch at the full thrust of her fury. 'Instructions?' he asked quietly. 'I have given them no instructions. Not even to guard Silverfox. What they've done has been their own decision. What they might have said, that it should lead to this — well, I shall accept responsibility for that, for I am their commander. And I assure you, if punishment is required-'
'Stop. A moment, please.' Something had settled within her, and now she trembled.
Whiskeyjack thought to take her in his arms, but held back. She needed comfort, he sensed, but his instincts told him she was not yet ready to receive it. He glanced around, found a relatively clean hand-cloth, soaked it in a basin, then held it out to her.
She had watched in silence, the shade of her eyes deepening to slate grey, but she made no effort to accept the cloth.
He slowly lowered his hand.
'Why,' Korlat asked, 'did Silverfox insist that her mother not learn of the T'lan Ay?'
'I have no idea, Korlat, beyond the explanation she voiced. At the time, I thought you knew.'
'You thought I knew.'
He nodded.
'You thought that I had been keeping from you … a secret. Something to do with Silverfox and her mother …'
Whiskeyjack shrugged.
'Were you planning to confront me?'
'No.'
Her eyes widened on him. Silence stretched, then, 'For Hood's sake, clean my wounds.'
Relieved, he stepped closer and began, with the gentlest of touches, to daub her cuts. 'Who struck you?' he asked quietly.