Orb Sceptre Throne Read Online Free PDF Page B

man!’ he gasped. ‘You do not ask much!’ He cleared his throat. ‘I suggest you press them yourself.’
    ‘We have been. For months. They will not listen to us. There is a … history … between us.’
    Aragan raised the small cup to his aide, who nodded and exited. He edged his chair round to face the attaché’s stiff back. ‘So, what is it? Why the burial grounds?’
    ‘There are those among us—’ The attaché stopped himself, shook his helmed head. ‘No, that will not do.’ He turned, took a long bracing breath. ‘You name our colours clans, so we understand. Yet “guilds” would really be a more accurate description. In any case, among us those you name the Silvers you could think of as closest to your mages. Though they are more like mystics, in truth.’
    Aragan could only stare. This was more than he’d ever heard from all the Moranth he’d ever spoken to before. There were scholars in Unta who could establish careers on the information he’d just been afforded on these ferociously secretive people.
    Attaché Torn crossed his arms. ‘For some time disquiet has spread among the Silver. They are anxious regarding the burial grounds – and the things that many believe they hold.’
    Captain Dreshen returned with a tiny cup of koru-nut infusion. Aragan took it, then signed for privacy. ‘Torn, those ruins extend for leagues across the Dwelling Plain. An area larger than the city itself! Do you have any idea how many troops it would take …’
    ‘I’m told to point out your garrisons and the majority of the Fifth in the north. Elements of Onearm’s Host in the south—’
    Aragan threw his hands in the air. ‘Hold on!’ Grimacing in pain, he gulped down his infusion. ‘I can’t bring that many troops so close to the city! Think about it. It would be seen as tantamount to a Malazan putsch! An act of war.’ He waved it aside. ‘No. Out of the question.’
    Torn dropped his arms, the keratin plates grinding. ‘I thought not.’ He almost sighed. ‘However, my superiors commanded that the request be made. So be it. I ask, then, that you at least gather your most skilled mages and task them to delve into any activities out on the burial grounds.’
    Aragan frowned, considering. ‘I can probably do that, yes. But think of it. What your Silvers are sensing is probably just the disturbances in the Warrens from what happened here … Anomander Rake’s sword broken, so they say. Hood cultists claiming
he
was here and died himself – if you can credit that. My cadre mages are still groaning from those shocks.’
    ‘Be that as it may … will you indulge me in this?’
    ‘Of course, Torn. Of course. As a favour to you.’
    The Moranth inclined his helmed head in thanks. ‘Very good. Please pass on any intelligence. Until then, Ambassador.’
    Aragan crossed to the door. ‘Attaché.’
    Once the Moranth had gone, Aragan waved in Captain Dreshen and returned to his breakfast. He ate staring out of the open twinned doors of the terrace. When he’d finished he sat back, sipping his watered wine. He raised his gaze to his aide. ‘Pass word down south to Fist … who is it down there?’
    ‘Steppen.’
    ‘Yes, Steppen. Tell her to send up all the troops she can spare. And who’s Central Command, the Free Cities garrisons?’
    ‘That would be Fist K’ess, in Pale.’
    ‘Right. He should be able to knock together at least a few companies. They can rendezvous to the west, somewhere south of Dhavran.’
    Dreshen merely cocked a brow. ‘And when there are questions …?’
    ‘Just a training exercise, Captain. Nothing more. The usual hurry up and wait.’
    ‘I understand. Very good, Ambassador.’ He turned to go.
    Aragan gulped down the last of his watered wine. ‘And who do we have in the city we can rely on to do some quiet work for us, off the books?’
    A smile crept up Captain Dreshen’s lips. ‘We keep a list, Ambassador.’
     

    She was getting used to the strangeness of this