Free Assail by Ian C. Esslemont Page B

shops and houses. ‘And the fires?’
    Enguf pulled at his beard again, even more offended. ‘Well … they started it, didn’t they? Set our ships on fire.’
    ‘I see.’
    The Genabackan waved a paw. ‘It’ll slow them down. Now, we should go.’ He peered in past Fisher then leered, elbowing him. ‘Caught a pretty gal already, have you?’
    ‘No. A shipwreck survivor.’
    Enguf grunted his disappointment. ‘Blasted wreckers. Like to hang the lot of them.’
    ‘It’s an Andii.’
    The pirate’s bushy russet brows rose. ‘Really? That’s damned unusual. Still, good in a fight – when they fight.’
    The flickering glow of flames leapt up over them and Enguf spun, cursing. He charged off, bellowing: ‘Not yet! What about the Malazans! They’re still— Oh, Mael’s damned balls!’
    Fisher put away his pipe and rose. Time to find some kind of transportation – one that hadn’t yet been taken, that was. He wasn’t surprised that these Lether soldiers and Genabackans had found the locals tougher to handle than they’d anticipated. Such was the story of Assail. And it would only get worse inland.
    Later, Fisher followed Teal, Malle and Enguf along a trail that wound up into woods and the rising slopes of the coastal Bone range. His donkey drew a travois on which the still unconscious Andii lay securely bound. Behind, smoke and the lurid glow of flames pockmarked Holly. The Countess’s men-at-arms now had greater worries than a small army of foreigners invading their town. Fisher was encouraged to see few soldiers and raiders carrying wounds. Clearly, these commanders knew not to fight when it wasn’t necessary. They might have been routed out of Holly, but they didn’t hang about plotting vengeance.
    Ahead, the only mounted figure awaited him: Malle of Gris. She sat sidesaddle astride a donkey that could have been the sister of the one he’d found. A bodyguard of hardened old Malazan veterans in leather and mail surrounded her. They parted for him and he could well imagine every one of them once having carried a sergeant’s armband.
    ‘So this is our mystery Andii,’ Malle said as she fell in behind the travois. ‘Has he woken at all?’
    ‘Not yet.’
    ‘Ah. Well, on the morrow perhaps.’
    ‘Yes. And you, m’lady? May I impose upon you to speak?’
    The woman wore a dress that consisted of many layers of severe black. Her greying hair was high on the top of her head and tumbled down her back, rather like spun iron. He imagined she must have been very handsome years ago. Black sheepskin riding gloves completed her costume. She smiled, amused, and gave Fisher a wave as if to dismiss his question. ‘Speak? Whatever of?’
    ‘Your reasons for embarking upon this perilous quest.’
    Her hand went to her mouth to cover a quiet laugh. ‘“Perilous quest”? Now I am certain you are a bard. There is nothing perilous about this. Nor is this a quest. A mere business trip … the acquisition of operating capital, only. Nothing more. Rather boring, really.’
    ‘Capital for what operation – if I may ask?’
    Again a courtly wave. ‘Nothing worth telling, I assure you. However, since you ask.’ She adjusted the sleeves over her slim wiry arms. As hard as pulled iron this one, Fisher reflected. The sort of widow who could outlive any number of men. ‘I come from an ancient and proud family,’ she began as they started up a rise of rock and packed mud that would take them up into the first of the coastal slopes. ‘However, our fortunes have not prospered under the Empire. What we require are funds for a new beginning. I do not know if you understand politics, bard, but it all comes down to money. Coin to purchase loyalty, to influence votes, to put seats on councils and bodies into local senates. That is why I am here. I would see my family name returned to the prestige and power it once held.’
    As the trail steepened and the forest pressed in on both sides, Fisher took a moment to check on the