DISCLAIMER

This post discusses the Empress of the Malazan Empire as of 1154 Burn’s Sleep, Laseen, within the context of the established world & the universe in which the books are set. It will attempt to maintain objectivity as much as possible and things that are considered taboo or obvious in the real world will either be omitted or expanded upon, depending on the situation.

For example, the Malazan world deals with slavery as a pre-established institution (that has been, in part, phased out within the Empire). The obvious conclusion that “slavery is a bad thing” will be omitted. As such, Laseen will not be critiqued (in this post) through the lens of modernity & her actions will be viewed in the context of the Empire.

Surly first appears in the prologue of Gardens of the Moon under her new assumed name, Laseen – Thronemaster. She speaks to the then commander of the Third Army, Whiskeyjack, in the presence of Ganoes Paran & Fiddler. She appears confident & imperious despite her plain clothing betraying nothing of her stature as Imperial Regent. She chastises Whiskeyjack for his failure to handle the situation in the Mouse Quarter, but remarks that, “Loss of control delivers its own lessons upon those who oppose us”. Keep this in mind for the next book.

That said, Laseen does not seem particularly fond of Whiskeyjack which leads to a partial misconception that Laseen promotes & demotes people not based on merit, but on her personal opinion of said person. This is partly true, but I feel the need to bring it up for later. Also, Whiskeyjack clearly knows Surly for decades now (“[The Emperor] is not the only one who remembers you as nothing more than a serving-wench down at the Old Quarter”) and the latter (i.e. Laseen) can recognize merit when she sees it – her Claw organization is particularly efficient. The last thing I’d like to touch on is the fact that she calls Whiskeyjack’s soldiers – the Bridgeburners – “seditious”: “inciting or causing people to rebel against the authority of a state or monarch.” Keep this in mind as well.

Next we hear of Laseen is the following conversation between Lorn & a captain in Itko Kan (Chapter One, Gardens of the Moon).

“The Adjunct spoke. 'You've been stationed here long, Captain?'

'Aye,' the man growled.

The woman waited, then asked, 'How long?'

He hesitated. 'Thirteen years, Adjunct.'

'You fought for the Emperor, then,' she said.

'Aye.'

'And survived the purge.'

[…]

'Finished?' she asked. 'I was asking about the purges commanded by Empress Laseen following her predecessor's untimely death.'

The captain gritted his teeth, ducked his chin to draw up the helm's strap – he hadn't had time to shave and the buckle was chafing. 'Not everyone was killed, Adjunct. The people of Itko Kan aren't exactly excitable. None of those riots and mass executions that hit other parts of the Empire. We all just sat tight and waited.'

'I take it,' the Adjunct said, with a slight smile, 'you're not noble-born, Captain.'

He grunted. 'If I'd been noble-born, I wouldn't have survived, even here in Itko Kan. We both know that. Her orders were specific, and even the droll Kanese didn't dare disobey the Empress.' He scowled. 'No, up through the ranks, Adjunct.'

We learn that Laseen purged specific people, with a certain focus on noblemen, after the assassinations of Dancer & Kellanved. For the most part, non-nobles were spared the executions. Even members of the Old Guard were spared – save a select few that were purged and/or assassinated (Dassem Ultor being chief among them) & others that disappeared of their own accord (Urko & Cartheron Crust, Toc the Elder, Amaron, Hawl), most others were not outright purged. Granted, most organizations created by the old Emperor (i.e. the Talon, the “Old Guard” & the “Old Family”) were dissolved, but – and this, in my opinion, is what’s important – Laseen did not proceed to condemn Kellanved’s memory. Way more on this in the future, but I choose to bring this up now because it’s a core idea in my defense of the Empress.

The last thing I’d like to touch on from Gardens of the Moon is this tidbit here:

“The captain watched him leave, then said, 'Anything else, Adjunct?'

'Yes.'

Her tone brought him around.

'I would like to hear a soldier's opinion of the nobility's present inroads on the Imperial command structure.'

 The captain stared hard at her. 'It ain't pretty, Adjunct.'

 'Go on.'

The captain talked.”

Admittedly, many of Laseen’s actions throughout Gardens are hard to justify, but I think it’s in no small part due to the fact that the characters we’re following are acting on limited amounts of information. Criticizing Laseen for her communication errors & her lack of trust in her subordinates (Tayschrenn & the mage cadre at Pale, for example) is valid and should be done. However, it’s important to remember that especially at Pale, objectively one of the biggest Imperial failures, following the decimation of the Bridgeburners, at no point are we given direct confirmation that Laseen ordered any of the events that followed. Instead, we’re given the point of view of the Bridgeburners – a regiment that was almost utterly destroyed in the tunnels beneath Pale – and Tattersail, a cadre mage whose lover & rest of her cadre were killed, allegedly by Tayschrenn, in a purge of the Imperial mage command structure. It’s not the most objective view (a theme common in Malazan).

Lastly, the implications about the nobility sprinkled in throughout the book seem to imply that neither the Emperor nor the Empress had any love for the nobles of mainland Quon Tali – and for good reason (more on this later). Ganoes & the Paran family have been on thin ice for a while now, and while his posting along with Lorn & his posting as Captain of the Bridgeburners momentarily improves his position, Lorn’s death & the outlawing of his unit only worsens his (and his family’s) position. Which, in turn, brings us to…

The 1163rd Year of Burn’s Sleep is aptly named the Year of the Cull by Erikson. Unta is undergoing its 3rd Season of Rot in the last ten years (which is probably a portent about Laseen’s incompetence but this is a defense post, damn it), a religious ceremony conducted by priests of Hood during a Pestilence.

This, however, is no ordinary religious ceremony. This is a Purge. A host of Red Blades under the command of one Adjunct Tavore Paran (sound familiar?) led the purge, carefully inciting rebellions & conducting arrests in the middle of night, which often lead to more riots.

We’re given the inner thoughts of Felisin as she’s paraded through the streets of Unta to the pier city, aptly named “Luckless”, to the slave ships & then to the Otataral mines:

“But slowly the questions faded in her mind, the numbness seeping back, the return of cold despair. The Empress had culled the nobility, stripped the Houses and families of their wealth, followed by a summary accusation and conviction of treason that had ended in chains.”

Then, we have this conversation between Heboric, Felisin & Baudin:

“Not worth looking for salvation in a woman who’s just following orders, Lady, never mind that one being this girl’s sister—”

Felisin winced, then glared at the ex-priest. “You presume—”

“He ain’t presuming nothing,” growled the thug. “Forget what’s in the blood, what’s supposed to be in it by your slant on things. This is the work of the Empress. Maybe you think it’s personal, maybe you have to think that, being what you are…”

[…]

“The peasants need to be roused. We’re the first, girl, and the example’s got to be established. What happens here in Unta is going to rattle every nobleborn in the Empire.”

[…]

“In any case,” Heboric continued to Felisin, “it’s my guess your sister the Adjunct plans on your getting to the slave ships in one piece. Your brother disappearing on Genabackis took the life out of your father…so I’ve heard,” he added, grinning. “But it was the rumors of treason that put spurs to your sister, wasn’t it? Clearing the family name and all that—”

Lastly, we’re given Heboric’s thoughts on the matter, which I think are spot on:

“It was one thing to accuse the Empress of murder, it was quite another to predict her next move. If only they’d heeded my warning. […] Heboric had said as much in his treatise, and could now admit a bitter admiration for the Empress and for Adjunct Tavore, Laseen’s instrument in this.

The excessive brutality of the midnight arrests—doors battered down, families dragged from their beds amidst wailing servants—provided the first layer of shock. Dazed by sleep deprivation, the nobles were trussed up and shackled, forced to stand before a drunken magistrate and a jury of beggars dragged in from the streets. It was a sour and obvious mockery of justice that stripped away the few remaining expectations of civil behavior—stripped away civilization itself, leaving nothing but the chaos of savagery.

Shock layered on shock, a rending of those fine underbellies. Tavore knew her own kind, knew their weaknesses and was ruthless in exploiting them. What could drive a person to such viciousness?

The poor folk mobbed the streets when they heard the details, screaming adoration for their Empress. Carefully triggered riots, looting and slaughter followed, raging through the Noble District, hunting down those few selected highborns who hadn’t been arrested—enough of them to whet the mob’s bloodlust, give them faces to focus on with rage and hate. Then followed the re-imposition of order, lest the city take flame.

The Empress made few mistakes. She’d used the opportunity to round up malcontents and unaligned academics, to close the fist of military presence on the capital, drumming the need for more troops, more recruits, more protection against the treasonous scheming of the noble class. The seized assets paid for this martial expansion. An exquisite move even if forewarned, rippling out with the force of Imperial Decree through the Empire, the cruel rage now sweeping through each city.

Bitter admiration.”

Laseen’s goals in the Cull are, in my opinion, two-fold. For one, she manages to excise the “rot” that is the nobility of mainland Quon Tali & simultaneously she manages to assert the loyalty of Tavore of House Paran, her new Adjunct – the same Adjunct whom threw her own sister under the bus to save the name of her family.

In one fell swoop, the Untan nobles, malcontents & dissident academics (like Heboric) are culled, either slain on the spot by the bloodlust of the mob during the Thirsting Hour or deported to the Otataral mines of Seven Cities and sold into slavery.

From our perspective – the readers’ perspective – the Cull is horrifying. A young girl is sentenced to slavery & she endured Hood-knows-what in her journey. But, from a political standpoint, everything Laseen does is both motivated and it makes sense.

We know that the Malazan Empire carved itself out from its humble origins upon the (not so) fair isle of Malaz and into mainland Quon Tali by exploiting these noble feuds. Unta, Li Heng, Quon, Tali, Cawn, Kan, Gris, Bloor, the list of conquests is endless. What these cities (once city states, petty kingdoms & what not) have in common is a decadent, feuding nobility that embroiled the continent in civil war time & again. The Malazan Empire cannot, will not, afford to let itself go down in much the same way. Especially not after a purge of the leadership of the Empire – Laseen cannot afford to let anyone go below the radar. In Prince Arthas’ words, “the whole city must be purged.” Perhaps “the whole city” is an over exaggeration, but the point made is clear – you will feel the ire of the Empress, and the Empress will tolerate no dissent.

On top of this, the nobles under the Old Emperor were not particularly well received either. Kellanved hadn’t bothered with the feuding nobility so long as they didn’t influence his politicking & his ambitions directly (as in, his and Dancer’s search for the secrets of the Azath, the First Throne & what not) and so left them mostly alone. Laseen, however, is exiled Napan royalty, and knows full well the spite & feuds of the nobles, first hand.

Lastly, there’s the plethora of rumours regarding the Malazan nobility and their role in the “decadence” of the Empire. This is information from Chapter Five of House of Chains, but it regards the reasons behind the Cull.

* ‘The Empress is displeased.’

* ‘Behind the rot of the imperial army’s incompetent command, you will find the face of the nobility.’

* ‘The purchase of commissions is a plague threatening the entire empire. Is it any wonder the Empress is displeased?'

Furthermore, we’re given this excerpt from Fist Gamet’s thoughts:

“The first wave of arrests had been precise, almost understated. Squads in the dead of night. There had been no skirmishes with house guards, no estates forewarned to purchase time to raise barricades, or even flee the city.

And Gamet knew how such a thing came to pass.

Tavore was now the Adjunct to the Empress. Tavore knew… her kind.”

Baudin then strides up to Gamet & they have a short conversation but that matters not. The Cull is precise, clinical, and remorseless. The message is clear – oppose the Empire, and you will not be tolerated.

Whether or not these rumors hold any truth to them matters not. Whether or not Gamet is a valid, objective observer matters not. What matters is that the rumors are there. As Laseen later goes on to say, “All truths are malleable. Subject, by necessity, to revision.” But I’m getting ahead of myself.

We reach the critical point of Laseen’s actions in Deadhouse Gates. When everything comes to a head, when we learn a part of the true extent that made this woman the Empress of the Malazan Empire. Chapter Twentythree.

 “Step within, Kalam Mekhar,” a woman’s voice invited.

[…]

“You’ve come to kill me, Bridgeburner,” Empress Laseen said in a cool, dry voice. “All this way. Why?” The question startled him. There was wry amusement in her voice as she continued, “I cannot believe that you must struggle to find your answer, Kalam.”

“The deliberate murder of the Bridgeburners,” the assassin growled. “The outlawing of Dujek Onearm. The attempted murders of Whiskeyjack, myself and the rest of the Ninth Squad. Old disappearances. A possible hand in Dassem Ultor’s death. The assassination of Dancer and the Emperor. Incompetence, ignorance, betrayal…” He let his litany fall away.

Empress Laseen was silent for a long time, then she said in a low tone, “And you are to be my judge. And executioner.”

“That’s about right.”

“Am I permitted a defense?”

[…]

“You can try, Empress.” Hood’s breath, I can barely stand upright, and she’s most likely got wards. As Quick Ben says, when you’ve got nothing, bluff…

Laseen’s tone hardened. “High Mage Tayschrenn’s efforts in Genabackis were misguided. The decimation of the Bridgeburners was not a part of my intentions. Within your squad was a young woman, possessed by a god that sought to kill me. Adjunct Lorn was sent to deal with her—”

“I know about that, Empress. You’re wasting time.”

“I do not see it as a waste, given that time may be all I shall enjoy here in the mortal realm. Now, to continue answering your charges. The outlawing of Dujek is a temporary measure, a ruse, in fact. We perceived the threat that was the Pannion Domin. Dujek, however, was of the opinion that he could not deal with it on his own. We needed to fashion allies of enemies, Kalam. We needed Darujhistan’s resources, we needed Caladan Brood and his Rhivi and Barghast, we needed Anomander Rake and his Tiste Andii. And we needed the Crimson Guard off our backs. Now, none of those formidable forces are strangers to pragmatism—one and all they could see the threat represented by the Pannion Seer and his rising empire. But the question of trust remained problematic. I agreed to Dujek’s plan to cut him and his Host loose. As outlaws, they are, in effect, distanced from the Malazan Empire and its desires—our answer, if you will, to the issue of trust.”

Kalam’s eyes narrowed in thought. “And who knows of this ruse?”

“Only Dujek and Tayschrenn.” After a moment he grunted. “And what of the High Mage? What’s his role in all this?”

He heard the smile as she said, “Ah, well, he remains in the background, out of sight, but there for Dujek should Onearm need him. Tayschrenn is Dujek’s— how do you soldiers say it—his shaved knuckle in the hole.” Kalam was silent for a long minute. The only sounds in the chamber were his breathing and the slow but steady drip of his blood onto the flagstones. Then he said,  “There are older crimes that remain…” The assassin frowned. The only sounds…

“Assassinating Kellanved and Dancer? Aye, I ended their rule of the Malazan Empire. Usurped the throne. A most vicious betrayal, in truth. An empire is greater than any lone mortal—”

 “Including you.”

“Including me. An empire enforces its own necessities, makes demands in the name of duty—and that particular burden is something you, as a soldier, most certainly understand. I knew those two men very well, Kalam—a claim you cannot make. I answered a necessity I could not avoid, with reluctance, with anguish. Since that time, I have made grievous errors in judgment—and I must live with those—”

“Dassem Ultor—”

“Was a rival. An ambitious man, sworn to Hood. I would not risk civil war, so I struck first. I averted that civil war, and so have no regrets on that.”

 “It seems,” the assassin murmured dryly, “you’ve prepared for this.” Oh, haven’t you just.

After a moment she went on. “So, if Dassem Ultor was sitting here right now, instead of me—tell me, Kalam, do you think he would have let you get this close? Do you think he would have sought to reason with you?”

[…] “Three, perhaps four strides, Kalam, and you can end the reign of Empress Laseen. What do you choose?” Smiling, Kalam shifted the grip of the knife in his right hand. Very well, I’ll play along.

“Seven Cities—”

“Will be answered in kind,” she snapped.

Despite himself, the assassin’s eyes widened at the anger he heard there. Well, what do you know? Empress, you did not need your illusions after all. Thus, the hunt ends here. He sheathed the knife. And smiled in admiration when she gasped.

“Empress,” he rumbled.

“I—I admit to some confusion…”

I’d not thought acting one of your fortes, Laseen…“You could have begged for your life. You could have given more reasons, made more justifications. Instead, you spoke, not with your voice, but with an empire’s.” He turned away. “Your hiding place is safe. I will leave your…presence—”

 “Wait!” He paused, brows raised at the sudden uncertainty in her voice.

“Empress?”

“The Claw—I can do nothing—I cannot recall them.”

 “I know. They deal with their own.”

“Where will you go?” He smiled in the darkness. “Your confidence in me is flattering, Empress.”

He swung the stallion around, strode to the doorway, then turned back one last time. “If you meant to ask, will I come for you again? The answer is no.”

Now, with the gift of hindsight, we can confidently say that Laseen isn’t entirely lying through her teeth here. Granted, she doesn’t have much in the way of a reason to explain her “evil plan” to Kalam like some sort of Disney super-villain… but she does. Have a reason, that is. As Dujek goes on to mention later, Laseen needs her best soldiers on the ground level when Cotillion & Shadowthrone make their move. The first salvo has already been fired in the form of Sorry, and that was taken care of by Rake. Who’s to guarantee to Laseen that such an occasion won’t happen again? Mind you, Sorry was possessed for nearly seven years & served in the Bridgeburners for a large part of that time – which, for all Laseen knows, could be compromised & part of Ammanas’ plan. The culmination of that plan could, for all she knows, Kalam coming all the way to Mock’s Hold to kill her.

Artanthos is the only leash connecting Dujek & his Host to the rest of the Malazan Empire, and he has already proven to be frayed. Laseen’s control is dwindling, but this – this threat – it’s genuine. The Pannion Seer is an opposing force that not only threatens Imperial control on Genabackis but the lives of millions on the continent. Perhaps Laseen’s actions don’t come from a place of altruism, but this has to count for something.

This concludes the first part of this post.

Firstly, because I reckon it’s important, let us set the scene.

The Pannion Seer has carved out a dominion for himself in South Genabackis. Onearm’s Host – which is, at present, outlawed by the Malazan Empire – is tasked with bringing the Seer down to heel.

Simultaneously, a rebellion is brewing in Seven Cities which led to the Chain of Dogs storyline in Deadhouse Gates. We’ll touch upon Laseen’s actions during the Chain & what more could be done in the next book – House of Chains.

So far, a lot of things have happened. The Cull in Unta, the disastrous Siege of Pale, the defeat at Darujhistan, but at last – at long last – the control of the Empire in north Genabackis is absolute. Only Darujhistan stands in its stead, and Laseen is more than happy to forge an unofficial alliance with the Daru. So long as it’s convenient and – spoiler alert – it will be convenient for a while.

What of the Pannion Seer? Was it necessary to outlaw the Host or was it just a move out of spite by Laseen – yet another politically motivated mistake? It was a necessity. Allow me to explain why.

This quote from Deadhouse Gates explains it adequately, I think:

“We needed to fashion allies of enemies, Kalam. We needed Darujhistan’s resources, we needed Caladan Brood and his Rhivi and Barghast, we needed Anomander Rake and his Tiste Andii. And we needed the Crimson Guard off our backs. Now, none of those formidable forces are strangers to pragmatism—one and all they could see the threat represented by the Pannion Seer and his rising empire. But the question of trust remained problematic. I agreed to Dujek’s plan to cut him and his Host loose. As outlaws, they are, in effect, distanced from the Malazan Empire and its desires—our answer, if you will, to the issue of trust.”

A common criticism of Laseen on this matter is that none of the aforementioned allies actually bring this up. My answer to this is simple – Brood & Rake would never accept an alliance with the Malazans that would lead to the annexation of more territory in South Genabackis by the Empire. By outlawing the Host, Laseen severs the ties between the Empire & Dujek and by extension forfeits any territorial gains in the area. Neither Brood nor Rake have any reason to object anymore – their people are safe from the Empire’s grasp, and the Pannions are a genuine threat. As for the Crimson Guard, they’re a mercenary company that’s sworn enemies of the Malazan Empire. The Seer most certainly won’t hire them & they have no reason left to oppose the Host (and a lot of other reasons we can’t touch upon now because they’re unimportant). Thus, they leave Genabackis & don’t oppose Dujek. The ruse is successful.

Still, very few people know of this as truth. The common Malazan soldier has no idea they’re being outlawed as a political move. We’re given the thoughts of Sergeant Whiskeyjack regarding this.

 “Memories rose like spectres. The Enfilade at Pale, the decimation of the Bridgeburners, the assault on Moon’s Spawn. A plague of suspicions, a maelstrom of desperate schemes…

A’Karonys, Bellurdan, Nightchill, Tattersail…The list of mages whose deaths could be laid at High Mage Tayschrenn’s sandalled feet was written in the blood of senseless paranoia. Whiskeyjack had not been sorry to see the High Mage take his leave, though the commander suspected he was not as far off as it seemed. Outlawry, Laseen’s proclamation cut us loose…but it’s all a lie. Only he and Dujek knew the truth of that—the remainder of the Host believed they had indeed been outlawed by the Empress. Their loyalty was to Dujek Onearm, and, perhaps, to me as well. And Hood knows, we’ll test that loyalty before we’re done…”

Whiskeyjack & most of the soldiers consider Laseen to have abandoned them, with Tayschrenn designated as a traitor to the Second & Sixth armies. Few people know the truth of this. The plan is sound, but it relies almost exclusively in the discipline & loyalty of the Malazan troops, the kind of loyalty that made the marines & regulars of the Malaz armies world famous. The Empress has no reason to doubt their loyalty – after all, she and the High Mage are the designated “scape goats” for the blame of the Host. They were the ones that killed their brothers & sisters beneath Pale. They caused the decimation of the Host. They outlawed these soldiers – now, all these soldiers have left is one another & loyalty in their commander; and a terrifying threat in their southern border, poised & ready to strike with repulsive cruelty and violence.

Cue the Pannion War. Overall, Laseen’s plan seems to have worked – at least in this continent.

  Furthermore, in Chapter Fifteen we’re given more thoughts about the state of the Empire and just how loyal the troops are to their commanders:

‘Damned right. Whiskeyjack should’ve been Emperor, when the old one got knocked off. Not Laseen. But she knew who her rival was, didn’t she just. That’s why she stripped him of rank, turned him into a Hood-damned sergeant and sent him away, far away.’

‘An ambitious man, this Whiskeyjack, then.’

 ‘Not in the least, Daru [Kruppe]. And that’s the whole point. Would’ve made a good Emperor, I said. Not wanting the job is the best and only qualification worth considering.’

Is this accusation true? Did Laseen demote the commander of the Third Army out of spite and paranoia that he’d take her throne? I strongly hesitate to believe this, and a future conversation between Dujek & Whiskeyjack settles this, I think.

Any possible contenders and/or heirs to the Imperial Throne were taken care of by Surly. From Deadhouse Gates, Chapter Twentythree:

“Dassem Ultor—”

“Was a rival. An ambitious man, sworn to Hood. I would not risk civil war, so I struck first. I averted that civil war, and so have no regrets on that.”

Dancer was the probable heir apparent to Kellanved’s Empire after Dassem, and he, too, was assassinated by Surly. Thus, if Surly considered someone to be a threat to her Imperial ambition and – crucially – a person ambitious enough to act upon their… ambitions, she’d strike first. With Whiskeyjack, she did no such thing.

Laseen does not kill people she doesn’t like out of villainy. She isn’t bloodthirsty nor stupid – she is, as Whiskeyjack puts it in a few chapters from now, cognizant.

We can discuss if Dassem would actually attempt a bid for the Imperial Throne in the event of an assassination of Kellanved some other time, but it’s safe to assume that Dassem held the loyalty of the troops, and with a single command could be crowned Emperor if he so wished. From a political standpoint, taking him out of the picture was the only viable option.

In Chapter Twentyone we get the following conversation – which I think mostly seals the deal on Laseen’s actions – from the two commanders of Onearm’s Host.

Whiskeyjack entered Dujek’s command tent. As expected, the High Fist was prepared for him. Hooded lantern on camp table, two tankards of ale and a block of Gadrobi goat cheese. Dujek himself sat in one of the chairs, head lowered in sleep.

‘High Fist,’ Whiskeyjack said as he removed his gauntlets, eyes on the ale and cheese.

The old commander grunted, sat straighter, blinking. ‘Right.’

[…]

‘A word on Paran. With the loss of Tatter—of Silverfox, I mean, the captain’s value to us can’t be overestimated. No, not just us. The Empire itself. Quick Ben’s been adamant on this. Paran is the Master of the Deck. Within him is the power to reshape the world, High Fist.’ He paused, mulling on his own words. ‘Now, maybe there’s no chance of Laseen ever regaining the man’s favour, but at the very least she’d be wise to avoid making the relationship worse.’

Dujek’s brows lifted. ‘I’ll so advise her the next time I see her.’

‘All right. Sorry. No doubt the Empress is cognizant—’

‘No doubt. As I was saying, however, it’s the loss of Quick Ben that stings the most. From my own point of view, that is.’

‘Well, sir, what the wizard has in mind…uh, I agree with him that the less Brood and company know of it the better. So long as the division of forces proceeds as planned, they’ll have no reason but to believe that Quick Ben marches in step with the rest of us.’

‘The wizard’s madness—’

‘High Fist, the wizard’s madness has saved our skins more than once. Not just mine and the Bridgeburners’, but yours as well—’

‘I am well aware of that, Whiskeyjack. Forgive an old man his fears, please. It was Brood and Rake and the Tiste Andii—and the damned Elder Gods, as well —who were supposed to step into the Crippled God’s path. They’re the ones with countless warrens and frightening levels of potency—not us, not one mortal squad wizard and a young nobleborn captain who’s already died once. Even if they don’t mess things up, look at the enemies we’ll acquire.’

‘Assuming our present allies are so short-sighted as to fail to comprehend.’

‘Whiskeyjack, we’re the Malazans, remember? Nothing we do is ever supposed to reveal a hint of our long-term plans—mortal empires aren’t supposed to think that far ahead. And we’re damned good at following that principle, you and I. Hood take me, Laseen inverted the command structure for a reason, you know.’

‘So the right people would be there at ground level when Shadowthrone and Cotillion made their move, aye.’

‘Not just them, Whiskeyjack.’

‘This should be made known to Quick Ben—to all of the Bridgeburners, in fact.’

‘No. In any case, don’t you think your wizard’s figured things out yet?’

‘If so, then why did he send Kalam after the Empress?’

‘Because Kalam needs to be convinced in person, that’s why. Face to face with the Empress. Quick Ben knew that.’

‘Then I must be the only thick-witted one in this entire imperial game,’ Whiskeyjack sighed.

‘Maybe the only truly honourable one, at any rate. Look, we knew the Crippled God was getting ready to make a move. We knew the gods would make a mess of things. Granted, we didn’t anticipate the Elder Gods getting involved, but that’s neither here nor there, is it? The point was, we knew trouble was coming. From more than one direction—but how could we have guessed that what was going on in the Pannion Domin was in any way related to the efforts of the Crippled God?

‘Even so, I don’t think it was entirely chance that it was a couple of Bridgeburners who bumped into that agent of the Chained One—that sickly artisan from Darujhistan; nor that Quick Ben was there to confirm the arrival of the House of Chains. Laseen has always understood the value of tactical placement yielding results—Hood knows, she taught that to the Emperor, not the other way round. The Crippled God’s pocket-warren wanders—it always has. That it wandered to the hills between Pale and Darujhistan was an opportunity the Crippled God could not pass up—if he was going to do anything, he had to act. And we caught him. Maybe not in a way we’d anticipated, but we caught him.’

[…]

‘Now I’m the one who’s worried,’ Whiskeyjack said. ‘We’ve been too clever by far, leaving me wondering who’s manipulating whom. We’re playing shadowgames with the Lord of Shadow, rattling the chains of the Crippled God, and now buying Brood more time without him even knowing it, whilst at the same time defying the T’lan Imass, or at least intending to…’

‘Opportunity, Whiskeyjack. Hesitation is fatal. When you find yourself in the middle of a wide, raging river, there’s only one direction to swim in. It’s up to us to keep Laseen’s head above water—and through her, the Malazan Empire. If Brood swings his hammer in Burn’s name—we drown, all of us. Law, order, peace—civilization, all gone.’

‘So, to keep Brood from doing that, we sacrifice ourselves by challenging the Crippled God. Us, one damned weary army already decimated by one of Laseen’s panics.’

‘Best forgive her her panics, Whiskeyjack. Shows she’s mortal, after all.’

 ‘Virtually wiping out the Bridgeburners at Pale—’

‘Was an accident and while you didn’t know it at the time, you know it now. Tayschrenn ordered them to remain in the tunnels because he thought it was the safest place. The safest.’

‘Seemed more like someone wanted us to be a collateral fatality,’ Whiskeyjack said. No, not us. Me. Damn you, Dujek, you lead me to suspect you knew more of that than I’d hoped. Beru fend, I hope I’m wrong… ‘And with what happened at Darujhistan—’

‘What happened at Darujhistan was a mess. Miscommunication on all sides. It was too soon after the Siege of Pale—too soon for all of us.’

‘So I wasn’t the only one rattled, then.’

‘At Pale? No. Hood take us, we all were. That battle didn’t go as planned. Tayschrenn really believed he could take down Moon’s Spawn—and force Rake into the open. And had he not been left virtually on his own in the attack, things might well have turned out differently. From what I learned later, Tayschrenn didn’t know at the time who Nightchill really was, but he knew she was closing in on Rake’s sword. Her and Bellurdan, who she was using to do her research for her. It looked like a play for power, a private one, and Laseen wasn’t prepared to permit that. And even then, Tayschrenn only hit her when she took out A’Karonys—the very High Mage who came to Tayschrenn with his suspicions about her. When I said Bellurdan killing Tattersail was the worst foul-up in Malazan history, that day at Pale runs a close second.’

‘There have been more than a few lately…’ Dujek slowly nodded, his eyes glittering in the lantern light. ‘All starting, I’d say, with the T’lan Imass slaughtering the citizens of Aren. But, as even with that one, each disaster yields its truths. Laseen didn’t give that order, but someone did. Someone returned to sit down in that First Throne—and that someone was supposed to be dead—and he used the T’lan Imass to wreak vengeance on Laseen, to shake her grip on the Empire. Lo, the first hint that Emperor Kellanved wasn’t quite as dead as we would have liked.’

‘And still insane, aye. Dujek, I think we’re heading for another disaster.’

‘I hope you’re wrong. In any case, I was the one who needed his confidence boosted tonight, not you.’

‘Well, I guess that’s the price of inverted commands…’

‘For all that I’ve been saying, a new observation comes to me, Whiskeyjack, and it’s not a pleasant one.’

 ‘And that is?’

‘I’m beginning to think we’re not half as sure of what we’re up to as we think we are.’

‘Who’s “we”?’

‘The empire. Laseen. Tayschrenn. As for you and I, well, we’re the least of the players and what little we know isn’t even close to what we need to know. We stepped up to the assault on Moon’s Spawn at Pale knowing virtually nothing of what was really going on. And if I hadn’t cornered Tayschrenn after, we still wouldn’t.’

[…]

‘Paran has been used by a god. He’s walked within the sword, Dragnipur. He has the blood of a Hound of Shadow in his veins. And none of us know what changes such things have wrought in him, or even what they portend. He’s been anything but predictable, and he’s almost impossible to manage—oh, he’ll follow orders I give him, but I think if Laseen believes she can use him, she might be in for a surprise.’

‘You like the man, don’t you?’

[..]

‘Shall I drown like Crust and Urko did? Shall I be seen to be slain then have my body vanish like Dassem did?’

‘Assuming none of those really happened—’

‘Dujek—’

‘All right, but some doubt still remains, you have to admit.’

[…]

Whiskeyjack grunted, then swung towards the tent’s exit. ‘Good night, Dujek.’

‘And to you, Whiskeyjack. Oh, one last thing.’

‘Yes?’

‘Tayschrenn. He’s been wanting to apologize to you. For what happened to the Bridgeburners.’

‘He knows where to find me, Dujek.’

[…]

Dear me, lots of things to take in.

Paran is a new, unaccounted for wildcard in the Empire’s plans. Yet another wrench in Laseen’s plans due to miscommunication & chance (Paran was Oppon’s chosen in GotM, remember) but she’s attempting to make the most of what she can from the young lad.

To add to a streak of misfortune, the Crippled God is now actively involved in the “game”. The Malazan Empire can’t hope to beat the Chained One – not without some “outside” help – and that needs time to foster; probably, possibly, through the help of Ganoes Paran. The Empire needs Paran.

We’re finally given confirmation that Whiskeyjack was not demoted on spite, but to keep his seditious soldiers in check when Shadowthrone & Cotillion make their move. Surprise!

One of the many things that are considered “flaws” of Laseen is her paranoia, but it’s not unjustified in the least. To further this point, we’re told:

‘All starting, I’d say, with the T’lan Imass slaughtering the citizens of Aren. But, as even with that one, each disaster yields its truths. Laseen didn’t give that order, but someone did. Someone returned to sit down in that First Throne—and that someone was supposed to be dead—and he used the T’lan Imass to wreak vengeance on Laseen, to shake her grip on the Empire. Lo, the first hint that Emperor Kellanved wasn’t quite as dead as we would have liked.’

Laseen knows Kellanved is alive, trying to bury her legacy & damage her reputation. In Chapter One of Gardens, Amannas and Cotillion unleash the Hounds of Shadow on a village of Itko Kan & proceed to possess Sorry to use her to assassinate the Empress. There have already been numerous attempts on Laseen’s life (the Talon, Cowl’s Veils) that have been thwarted, but nothing like this.

On top of this, we’re told that Laseen does not – could not – control the T’lan Imass. So, for all Laseen knows, one of the most powerful forces in Wu is under the control of the insane, spiteful God of Shadow, trying to kill her.

Excuse an old woman her fears, would you?

 ‘Best forgive her her panics, Whiskeyjack. Shows she’s mortal, after all.’

This. Damn. Quote.

Laseen is just as human as anyone else – she admits to having made many, grievous mistakes in Deadhouse Gates, mistakes she now has to live with. She’s in over her head, absolutely, and she knows it. She’s aware of her precarious position, but she doesn’t lack foresight.  

“When you find yourself in the middle of a wide, raging river, there’s only one direction to swim in. It’s up to us to keep Laseen’s head above water—and through her, the Malazan Empire.”

She has put her faith in the few men she knows she can trust. Dujek & Whiskeyjack know Surly for virtually her entire life – Dujek found Surly & brought her to Kellanved way back when Kellanved wasn’t known by that name (allegedly) – and they’re the best thing she has. Letting them go might not have been the best option, but… She’s not planning to.

‘No, I should be the one flying out tonight, not you, Dujek. The risk—’

‘Precisely,’ the High Fist growled. ‘The risk. You never seem to realize, but you’re more important to this army than I am. You always have been. To the soldiers, I’m just a one-armed ogre in a fancy uniform—they damned well see me as a pet.’

Whiskeyjack studied Dujek’s battered, unadorned armour and grinned sourly.

‘A figure of speech,’ the High Fist said. ‘Besides, it’s as the Empress has commanded.’

‘So you keep saying.’

‘Whiskeyjack, Seven Cities is devouring itself. The Whirlwind has risen over blood-soaked sands. The Adjunct has a new army and it’s on its way, but too late for the Malazan forces already there. I know you were talking retirement, but look at it from Laseen’s point of view. She has two commanders left who know Seven Cities. And, before long, only one seasoned army—stuck here on Genabackis. If she has to risk one of us in the Pannion War, it has to be me.’

‘She plans on sending the Host to Seven Cities? Hood take us, Dujek—’

‘If the new Adjunct falls to Sha’ik, what choice does she have? More important, she wants you in command.’

Whiskeyjack slowly blinked. ‘What about you?’

Dujek grimaced. ‘I don’t think she expects me to survive what’s about to come. And if by some miracle I do, well, the campaign in Korel is a shambles…’

‘You don’t want Korel.’

‘What I want doesn’t matter, Whiskeyjack.’

‘And Laseen would say the same of me, I gather. Dujek, as I said before, I intend to retire, to disappear if need be. I’m done. With all of this. Some log cabin in some frontier kingdom, a long way away from the Empire—’

‘And a wife swinging a pot at your head. Marital, domestic bliss—you think Korlat will settle for that?’

 Whiskeyjack smiled at High Fist’s gentle mockery. ‘It’s her idea—not the potswinging—that’s your particular nightmare, Dujek. But all the rest…all right, not a log cabin. More like a remote, wind-battered keep in some mountain fastness. A place with a forbidding view—’

‘Well,’ Dujek drawled, ‘you can still plant a small vegetable garden in the courtyard. Wage war against weeds. All right, that’s our secret, then. Too bad for Laseen. Should I survive Coral, I’ll be the one taking the Host back to Seven Cities. And should I not survive, well, I won’t be in a position to care one whit about the Malazan Empire.’

‘You’ll scrape through, Dujek. You always do.’

‘A weak effort, but I’ll take it. So, share one last meal with me? The Moranth won’t be here till after the midnight bell.’

It was an odd choice of words, and they hung heavy between the two old friends for a long moment.

‘One last meal before I leave, I meant,’ Dujek said with a faint smile. ‘Until Coral.’

‘I’d be delighted,’ Whiskeyjack replied.

The Host will not remain outlawed for long. Once more through the power of hindsight, we know that Dujek is placed in control of the Host once more & sets sail to Ehrlitan after Coral.

Whiskeyjack is critically important to Laseen – the bastard has seen more war in his years than pretty much anybody in the Malazan Empire. WHY would she risk getting rid of him?

Whiskeyjack has doubts – plenty of them – and he’s justified in having them, but it does not add up. Mistakes, miscommunication, and overconfidence – all these things can be laid at Laseen & Tayschrenn’s feet. A desire to wipe out the Bridgeburners & the two best commanders still alive in the Empire? Not so much.

This does not make Laseen a great person, admittedly. But she doesn’t have to be. She’s the Empress of the Malazan Empire, and Whiskeyjack & Dujek are her two best bets to come out with a stable Empire. She cannot afford to lose either, but as Dujek says, if she had to sacrifice one, it’d be Onearm. It had to be Onearm.

Gods below, there’s so much more to write about this, but I’ll save most of these for a separate post discussing Laseen separately in all the books. An actual character study, if you will.

At any rate, this rant has gone on long enough – it’s about time we move on. Shall we?

We’ll start off with a small excerpt from Deadhouse Gates which puts future events & conversations in House of Chains into context. The following is a dialogue between a Captain in (I think) Sialk and Bult, Coltaine’s “uncle” and lieutenant.

“Retaking Ubaryd will allow relief from Admiral Nok’s fleet,” Sulmar said. “Through this avenue, a swift and safe journey to Aren can be effected.”

“Admiral Nok’s fleet is in Aren,” Bult pointed out.

“Yes, sir. However, once news reaches them that we are in Ubaryd, the obvious course will be clear.”

“You mean they will hasten to relieve us?” Bult’s frown was exaggerated. “Now I am confused, Captain. The High Fist holds his army in Aren. More, he holds the entire Seven Cities fleet as well. Neither has moved in months. He has had countless opportunities to despatch either force to our aid. Tell me, Captain, in your family’s hunting estates, have you ever seen a deer caught in lantern light? How it stands, frozen, unable to do anything. The High Fist Pormqual is that deer. Coltaine could deliver this train to a place three miles up the coast from Aren and Pormqual would not set forth to deliver us. Do you truly believe that an even greater plight, such as you envisage for us in Ubaryd, will shame the High Fist into action?”

“I was speaking more of Admiral Nok—”

“Who is dead, sick or in a dungeon, Captain. Else he would have sailed long ere now. One man rules Aren, and one man alone. Will you place your life in his hands, Captain?”

Thus, we have good reason to believe that Nok was unable to act, restrained by Pormqual and, by extension, Mallick Rel. For all we know, he might’ve even been placed in a moderate form of “arrest” – it’s never said explicitly like with the Red Blades, so this is mostly speculation – that prevented him from acting.

It’s also fair to assume that Nok, in the absence of any Claws in Aren, was the only person that could directly communicate with the Empress independently of Pormqual’s wishes. Yet, his fleet did not – could not – sail out of Aren’s harbor.

More on Nok in the following excerpt from Chapter Five of House of Chains (admittedly a gold mine of quotes regarding the entire DG storyline & the Empire’s involvement):

“Gamet’s eyes were drawn again and again to the tall admiral. Apart from Dujek Onearm, Nok was the last of the commanders from the Emperor’s time. The only admiral who didn’t drown. With the sudden deaths of the Napan brothers, Urko and Crust, Nok had been given overall command of the imperial fleets.The Empress had sent him and a hundred and seven of his ships to Seven Cities when the rumours of rebellion had reached fever pitch. Had the High Fist in Aren not effectively impounded that fleet in the harbor, Coltaine’s Chain of Dogs could have been prevented; indeed, the rebellion might well be over. Now, the task of reconquest promised to be a drawn-out, bloody endeavor. Whatever feelings the admiral might have regarding all that had occurred and all that was likely to come, he gave no indication, his expression remaining cold and impersonal.”

“’And the admiral, who waits below in the mess hall?’

To that, I have no idea, Adjunct. His taciturnity is legend.’

‘Why, do you think, did he not simply usurp High Fist Pormqual? Why did he permit the annihilation of Coltaine and the Seventh, then of the High Fist’s own army?’

Gamet could only shake his head.

Tavore studied him for another half-dozen heartbeats, then slowly made her way to the scrolls lying on the tabletop. She drew one out and removed its ties. ‘The Empress never had cause to question Admiral Nok’s loyalty.’

‘Nor Dujek Onearm’s,’ Gamet muttered under his breath.

She heard and looked up, then offered a tight, momentary smile. ‘Indeed. One meeting remains to us.’ Tucking the scroll under one arm, she strode towards a small side door. ‘Come.’”

An interesting couple of tidbits. Nok was unable to act because he lacked an Imperial mandate to overrule the acting High Fist, and Laseen was acting on limited information as well as being preoccupied by the Pannion war & Artanthos’ posting in Genabackis.

Tavore’s question bites deep. It’s blunt, and takes Gamet (and me) off guard. The implication that Nok betrayed the Empire, coupled with the hidden tone of regret beneath Tavore’s words for something that her Empress could’ve avoided. For just how cold iron Tavore is, the little hints sprinkled throughout her dialogue are gold.

Where was I? Oh, yes, Laseen. Excuse me.

My answer to Tavore’s question is precisely because Nok is not a traitor. Even if he were a man of action (which he might be, or he might not be), usurping a High Fist based on mere suspicion is grounds for an execution. He simply does not have the required authority to act, and I think it weighs upon him just as much as it does on people like Blistig, Keneb and the other survivors. He just does not show it.

Thus, I don’t think it’s fair to blame either Nok or Laseen for this. There’s one person that’s definitively behind this, and it hurts me that I must acknowledge his name.

Mallick Rel.

The Jhistal will come up time & again in the future, but let’s get some things set up. Firstly, this quote from Deadhouse Gates, Chapter Twentythree:

“Wait!” He paused, brows raised at the sudden uncertainty in her voice.

“Empress?”

“The Claw—I can do nothing—I cannot recall them.”

For all we know, Laseen is trying to misguide Kalam – but both Kalam and Topper seem to agree with the idea that, once deployed to the field, they’re only required to answer to the leader of their Hand – not the Clawmaster, not the Adjunct, not the Empress.

Which means, due to the inherent corruption already present in the organization, all one would need to do to land himself an army of Claws – the Black Glove, perchance – is corrupt five people, one Hand at a time.

Mallick’s plan is set in motion from, in my opinion, the moment he sets foot in Aren. Perhaps he’s not entirely hell-bent on taking over the Claw & then using it to dethrone Laseen, but the first seeds have been planted…

Further, Laseen is a title Surly assumed that directly translates to “Thronemaster.” For Surly to be Laseen, she needs the Claw. Once she loses the Claw… the Empire goes with her. More on this in the future.

Next, we’re given this dialogue between Lostara & Pearl:

“Finally, [Lostara] had had enough. ‘I will have no part of this. Return me to Tene Baralta’s command.’

Pearl did not look up. ‘As you wish, my dear,’ he murmured, then added: ‘Of course I will have to kill you at some point – certainly before you report to your commander. It’s the hard rules of clandestine endeavors, I regret to say.’

‘Since when are you at the Adjunct’s beck and call, Pearl?’

‘Why, he glanced up and met her gaze, ‘ever since she unequivocally reasserted her loyalty to the Empress, of course.’ He returned his attention to the scroll.

Lostara scowled. ‘I’m sorry, I think I missed that part of the conversation.’

‘Not surprising,’ Pearl replied, ‘since it resided in between the words actually spoken.’ He smiled at her. ‘Precisely where it belonged.’”

[…]

‘In any case, back to the matter at hand. Tavore is of noble blood, and it’s now clear that a truly covert element of Talons has returned to plague us, and has been making use of the nobility. Placing sympathetic agents in the military and administration – a mutually profitable infiltration. But Tavore is now the Adjunct, and as such, her old ties, her old loyalties, must needs be severed.” Pearl paused to tap a finger on the laid-out scroll before him. ‘She has given us the Talons, Captain. We will find this Baudin Younger, and from him we will unravel the entire organization.”

[…]

“’Because, my dear, for Tavore, the surrendering of the Talons is secondary to our finding Felisin. And that is extraneous, and not only extraneous, but also damning. Do you think the Empress would smile upon this clever little scheme, the lie behind this all-too-public demonstration of the new Adjunct’s loyalty? Sending her sister to the otataral mines! Hood take us all, that’s a hard woman! The Empress has chosen well, has she not?’”

Outwardly, Tavore seems to have given up the name of a Talon operative to prove her loyalty to the Empress, and at the same time make a deal with Pearl to have her sister safely returned.

What this does prove is that Laseen & co. know that the Talon is not truly defunct and plenty of Talons are still operational (Baudin, Throatslitter, fucking TAVORE) without their necessarily knowing the identities of the Talons. Suspicions do exist that the nobles of Unta are collaborating with Talons – this is now excised by Laseen & Pearl by “forcing” Tavore to give up a Talon operative.

We know this isn’t really a win for Surly (Baudin is dead) but it does show that she’s not in the dark. She’s aware of her precarious position & she’s making an effort to bounce back. Laseen isn’t incompetent, damn it – she’s in a terrible position due to outside factors she hasn’t been able to deal with in due time, but she is making an effort to counter them.

Later, there’s this conversation between Gamet, Nok & the Adjunct, detailing Kellanved’s Old Family & their abandonment of Laseen.

“’Admiral,’ Tavore cut in, her eyes resting on the dead hearth, ‘there is you, and three others. All who are left.’”

Gamet slowly straightened in his chair. Three others. High Mage Tayschrenn, Dujek Onearm, and Whiskeyjack. Four… gods, is that all now? Tattersail, Bellurdan, Nightchill, Duiker. . . so many fallen-

Admiral Nok was simply studying the Adjunct. He had stood against the wrath of the Empress, first with Cartheron Crust’s disappearance, then Urko’s and Ameron’s (it’s Amaron, by the way, Steve). Whatever answers he had given, he had done so long ago.

‘I do not speak for the Empress,’ Tavore said after a moment. ‘Nor am I interested in . . . details. What interests me is . . . a matter of personal . . . curiosity. I would seek to understand, Admiral, why they abandoned her.’

[…]

‘The answer to your question,’ the admiral said, ‘lies in what was both a strength and a flaw of the Emperor’s . . . family. The family that he gathered to raise an empire. Kellanved began with but one companion – Dancer. The two then hired a handful of locals in Malaz City and set about conquering the criminal element in the city – I should point out, the criminal element that happened to rule the entire island. Their target was Mock, Malaz Island’s unofficial ruler. A pirate, and a cold-blooded killer.’

‘Who were those first hirelings, Admiral?’

‘Myself, Ameron (Amaron, god damn it), Dujek, a woman named Hawl – my wife.

[…]

   ‘Dancer later bolstered our numbers by recruiting among the refugee Napns who’d fled the Conquest (of Nap by the Kingdom of Unta): Cartheron Crust and his brother, Urko. And Surly – Laseen.

[…]

‘To answer you, Adjunct. Unknown to the rest of us, the Napans among us were far more than simple refugees. Surly was of the royal line. Crust and Urko had been captains in the Napan Fleet, a fleet that would have likely repelled the Untans if it hadn’t been virtually wiped out by a sudden storm. As it turns out, theirs was a singular purpose – to crush the Untan hegemony – and they planned on using Kellanved to achieve that. In a sense, that was the first betrayal within the family, the first fissure. Easily healed, it seemed, since Kellanved already possessed imperial ambitions, and of the two major rivals on the mainland, Unta was by far the fiercest (the other being the Quon-Tali joined league).

‘Admiral,’ Tavore said, ‘I see where this leads. Surly’s assassination of Kellanved and Dancer shattered that family irrevocably, but that is precisely where my understanding falters. Surly had taken the Napan cause to its penultimate conclusion. Yet it was not you, not Tayschrenn, Duiker, Dassem Ultor or Toc Elder who . . . disappeared. It was . . . Napans.’

‘Barring Ameron (Oh, gods below),’ Gamet pointed out.

The admiral’s lined face stretched as he bared his teeth in a humourless grin. ‘Ameron (…) was half-Napan.’

‘So it was only the Napans who deserted the new Empress?’ Gamet stared up at Nok, nopw as confused as Tavore. ‘Yet Surly was of the royal Napan line?’

Nok said nothing for a long time, then he sighed. ‘Shame is a fierce, vigorous poison. To now serve the new Empress . . . complicity and damnation. Crust, Urko, and Ameron (I will just accept this as fact, now) were not party to the betrayal . . . but who would believe them? Who could not help but see them as party to the murderous plot? Yet, in truth,’ his eyes met Tavore’s, ‘Surly had included none of us in her scheme – she could not afford to. She had the Claw, and that was all she needed.’”

‘And where were the Talons in all this?’ Gamet asked, then cursed himself – ah, gods, too tired –

Nok’s eyes widened for the first time that night. ‘You’ve a sharp memory, Fist.’

Gamet clamped his jaws tight, sensing the Adjunct’s hard stare fixing on him.

The admiral continued, ‘I am afraid I have no answer to that. I was not in Malaz City on that particular night; nor have I made enquiries to those who were. The Talons essentially vanished with Dancer’s death. It was widely believed that the Claw had struck them down in concert with the assassination of the Emperor.’”

Thus, Surly did not choose to rid herself of parts of the Old Guard – Crust, Urko, Amaron, Toc Elder, Hawl and a host of others decided to abandon her. Others were purged. Some others were demoted.

Others, like Dujek & Nok, were left to their own devices.

What can we make of this?

That Surly is not a murderous idiot that goes around alienating all her best generals and admirals simply because they’re disloyal or “in league with the Old Emperor”. Hood’s breath, she too was in league with the Old Emperor.

No, Surly’s purges of competent people, close to her, were done only as a last resort (see Dassem Ultor). The ones that didn’t disappear were placed strategically within the Imperial command structure.

To quote Dujek from Memories of Ice, ‘Laseen has always understood the value of tactical placement yielding results—Hood knows, she taught that to the Emperor, not the other way round.’

Next, I wish to touch on a conversation between Cotillion & Lostara about the former’s… predisposition towards Surly, in Chapter Eight of House of Chains.

“’I do not know who you are.’

The man smiled. ‘Ah, yes, I am well ahead of myself . . .’ His gaze fell to the shadows spread long before him, though his back was to an unlit, closed door, and his smile broadened as if he was reconsidering those words. ‘I am Cotillion, Lostara Yil. Back then, I was Dancer, and yes, you can well guess the significance of that name, given what you were being trained to do (i.e. Shadow Dance). Of course, in Seven Cities, certain truths of the cult had been lost, in particular the true nature of Shadow Dancing. It was never meant for performance, Lostara. It was, in fact, and art most martial. Assassination.’

‘I am no follower of Shadow – Rashan or your version-‘

‘That is not the loyalty I would call upon with you,’ Cotillion replied.

She was silent, struggling to fit sense to her thoughts, to his words. Cotillion . . . was Dancer. Shadowthrone . . . must have been Kellanved, the Emperor! She scowled. ‘My loyalty is to the Malazan Empire. The Empire-‘

‘Very good,’ he replied. ‘I am pleased.’

‘And now you’re going to try to convince me that the Empress Laseen should not be the empire’s true ruler-‘

‘Not at all. She is welcome to it. But, alas, she is in some trouble right now, isn’t she? She could do with some . . . help.’

‘She supposedly assassinated you!’ Lostara hissed. ‘You and Kellanved both!’ She betrayed you.

Cotillion simply shrugged again. ‘Everyone had their . . . appointed tasks. Lostara, the game being played here is far larger than any mortal empire. But the empire in question – your empire – well, its success is crucial to what we seek. And, were you to know the fullest extent of recent, distant events, you would need no convincing that the Empress sits on a tottering throne right now.’

[…]

‘But know this, we would all save the Malazan Empire, in our own ways. Will you help me?’

‘If I did, would that make me a Talon?’

Cotillion’s smile broadened. ‘But, my dear, the Talons no longer exist.’

‘Oh, really, Cotillion, would you ask my help and then play me for a fool?’

The smile slowly faded. ‘But I am telling you, the Talons no longer exist. Surly annihilated them. Is there knowledge you possess that would suggest otherwise?’

She was silent a moment, then turned away. ‘No. I simply . . . assumed.’”

Here, we’re shown that Cotillion does not hold any ire towards Surly – unlike Shadowthrone (I’ve omitted this excerpt, but it is said that “Shadowthrone is still obsessed with seeing Laseen suffer”) – and instead has the foresight to know that ‘the game they’re playing goes far beyond any mortal empire’.

Laseen is welcome to the Empire of Malaz if Cotillion had anything to say about it, but she’s still antagonized by Kellanved – a god with the Hounds of Shadow and the First Throne of the T’lan Imass at his disposal. Gods below, she is in a precarious position.

As a small addendum I also included the small dialogue the two shared about the Talons. Cotillion seems genuinely unaware the Talon is still operational – and yet Laseen is keenly aware of their existence.

Well, almost keenly, anyway. Gods below, but that woman (Tavore) has balls.

I’m getting ahead of myself. Lastly, I present to you an excerpt from Chapter Twenty of House of Chains, a conversation between Onrack the Broken & Trull Sengar regarding the First Throne of the T’lan.

“’Logros commanded that the First Throne be removed from this land, because the Nameless Ones were drawing ever closer to discovering its location. They had come to realize that its power could be claimed, that the T'lan Imass could be made to bow in service to the first mortal to seat him or herself upon it.’

‘And Logros didn’t want one of these Nameless Ones to be that mortal. Why? What terrible purpose drives them? And before you answer, Onrack, I should tell you that as far as I am concerned, “terrible purpose” has rather dire measure, given both your kind and my own.

‘I understand, Trull Sengar, and it is a valid point you make. The Nameless Ones serve the Houses of the Azath. Logros believed that, had a priest of that cult taken the First Throne, the first and only command given to the T’lan Imass would be to voluntarily accept eternal imprisonment. We would have been removed from this world.

‘So the throne was moved.’

‘Yes, to a continent south of Seven Cities. Where it was found by a mage – Kellanved, the Emperor of the Malazan Empire.’

‘Who now commands all the T’lan Imass? No wonder the Malazan Empire is as powerful as it seems to be – then again, by now, it should have conquered the whole world, since he could have called upon all the T’lan Imass to fight his wars.’

‘The Emperor’s exploitation of our abilities was . . . modest. Surprisingly constrained. He was then assassinated. The new Empress does not command us.’

‘Why didn’t she just sit on the First Throne herself?’

‘She would, could she find it.’

I think that font is big enough to get the point across.

THE EMPRESS DOES NOT HAVE CONTROL OF THE FIRST THRONE.

The most formidable force the mortal world has seen is now in the hands of a rival she assassinated and that same man is now throwing salvo after salvo against you and your Empire.

Laseen’s position is being undermined by multiple forces – Ammanas, Mallick, the Crippled God – and she is virtually powerless to do anything about it. What do you tackle first?

Oh, and did I mention her Adjunct is a Talon?

There is no right answer. There is no knowing how fickle Kellanved is, how deep Mallick has infiltrated, or how dangerous the Crippled God’s influence on Wu is.

Laseen is playing a losing game, and the final nails in her coffin are coming down…

Short Recap of the Malaz Armies, ca. 1164 Burn’s Sleep:

Malaz 1st Army: Disbanded during the Reign of Empress Laseen – original army of the Malazan Empire, decimated during the Siege of Y’Ghatan

Malaz 2nd Army: Dissolved after the Siege of Pale, now part of the Malaz 5th Army

Malaz 3rd Army: Unknown – allegedly disbanded by the time of Gardens of the Moon; last known location, Mouse Quarter of Malaz City, putting down sorcerous rebellions – served under High Fist Choss, who was presumed dead after Empress Laseen’s ascension

Malaz 4th Army: Fought in the Wickan Wars, now a standing army in Quon Tali – fought in the Battle of the Plains & its 2nd Division was sent to Korel as an expeditionary force

Malaz 5th Army: Usually referred to as Onearm’s Host along with the 2nd and 6th – contains the remnants of the 2nd and 6th Armies, numbering about ten thousand soldiers. Turned renegade following the defeat of the Army of the Apocalypse - Last known location Aren, sailing south, under High Fist Ganoes Paran

Malaz 6th Army: The “original” Malaz 6th Army was sent to Korel under High Fist Greymane – now a renegade force occupying parts of the Lands of Fist under Overlord Yeull. The “other” Malaz 6th Army was present at the Siege of Pale, at which point it was disbanded and incorporated into the Malaz 5th Army

Malaz 7th Army: Destroyed completely in the Fall outside Aren under Fist Coltaine.

Malaz 8th Army: Fate unknown – possibly created after the death of Empress Laseen, sent to Korel as part of an expeditionary force under Fist Khemet Shul

Malaz 9th Army: Fate unknown – fought alongside the Malaz 1st in the Siege of Y’Ghatan & suffered heavy losses, presumably disbanded

Malaz 10th, 11th, 12th Armies: Never mentioned – unknown if they ever existed – one (or more) could be part of Pormqual’s Army that was destroyed outside Aren after the Fall

Malaz 13th Army: Allegedly served alongside Greymane’s 6th during the Invasion of Korel – “washed up on the shores of Malaz Isle, too torn up to keep intact” – possibly disbanded.

Malaz 14th Army: Created ca. 1164 Burn’s Sleep in Aren under Adjunct Tavore Paran, nicknamed “The Bonehunters” – fought against the Whirlwind Rebellion – destroyed the Army of the Apocalypse – quelled the rebellion of Seven Cities & brought the continent back into the fold of the Empire – turned renegade following the events of Malaz Isle, ca. 1164 Burn’s Sleep – last known location Malaz Island

We’re given this excerpt from The Bonehunters, Chapter 6 regarding the positioning of the Claw & the Malaz armies.

‘Anyway, why ain’t there a few hands of Claw to do the dirty work? You know, infiltrate the city and the palace and stick a knife in Leoman and be done with it. Why do we have to get messed up with a real fight? What kind of empire are we, these days?’

No-one spoke for a time. Bottle watched his sergeant. Strings was testing the pull on the crossbow, but Bottle could see that he was thinking.

Cuttle said, ‘Laseen’s pulled ’em in. Close and tight.’

The regard Gesler fixed on the sapper was level, gauging. ‘That the rumour, Cuttle?’

‘One of ’em. What do I know? Maybe she caught something on the wind.’

‘You certainly have,’ Strings muttered as he examined the case of quarrels.

‘Only that the few veteran companies still on Quon Tali were ordered to Unta and Malaz City.’

Strings finally looked up. ‘Malaz City? Why there?’

‘The rumour weren’t that specific, Sergeant. Just the where, not the why. Anyway, there’s something going on.’

‘Where’d you catch all this?’ Gesler asked.

‘That new sergeant, Hellian, from Kartool.’

From this, we now understand that the only fighting force in Quon Tali (that we can be sure of) at this moment is the Malaz 4th Army & the Malaz 14th. Onearm’s (now Paran’s) Host is nowhere to be seen after having departed Aren. Further, Adjunct Tavore outranks First Sword of the Empire Korbolo Dom in military and administrative rank. Thus, the Malaz 14th Army is under the direct control of Adjunct Tavore, until further orders from the Empress.

As such, the Malaz 14th Army is the biggest wildcard that could affect Imperial politics in the near future. Thus, it is in the best interest of Empress Laseen and Mallick Rel to control the loyalties of the army.

Mallick, however, is playing a dangerous game.

On the foredeck of the Froth Wolf, Keneb turned to Captain Rynag. He struggled to contain his fury as he said, ‘Captain, there were soldiers in that mob. Out of uniform.’

The man was pale. ‘I know nothing of that, Fist.’

‘What is the point of this? They won’t get their hands on the Fourteenth.’

‘I – I don’t know. It’s the Wickans – they want them. A pogrom’s begun and there’s no way of stopping it. A crusade’s been launched, there’s an army marching onto the Wickan Plains—’

‘An army? What kind of army?’

‘Well, a rabble, but they say it’s ten thousand strong, and there’s veterans among them.’

Soldiers & Claws are present among the mob, tasked with assassinating the rivals of Mallick Rel – Banaschar among them, for example. He’s clearly not interested in the loyalty of the Fourteenth – he knows for a fact that they’d rather all die than serve under him, thus he tries to pull the same trick that he did with Pormqual.

Unfortunately for Rel, Keneb & Tavore are no Pormqual.

The Destriant moved up beside Keneb. ‘Fist, I do not understand.’

Keneb pulled his attention from the hundreds edging ever closer. ‘But I do. I’ve seen. We’re holding the jetty, and not one damned soldier down there gives a damn about anything else! Why?’ He thumped the rail. ‘Because we’re waiting. We’re waiting for the Adjunct. Destriant, we’re hers, now. It’s done, and the damned empire can rot!’

The Core Differences between Laseen, Korbolo & Mallick

During the meeting of, on the Imperial side, the Empress, Korbolo Dom & Mallick Rel and on the side of the Fourteenth, Adjunct Tavore, T’amber & Kalam, I’d like to touch on a few core differences put forth by Steve between the members of the Imperial tribunal.

First and foremost, appearences. We’re given the following descriptions:

 Korbolo Dom – attired as a High Fist.

Now, while High Fist regalia isn’t necessarily Imperial regalia, if we had to go by the descriptions of other self-indulgent High Fists (like Pormqual), then the attire is quite outrageous. He [High Fist Pormqual] wore "clothes that would beggar a king".

Korbolo is literally dressed like a military commander on campaign, possibly adorned with gleaming armor – a stark contrast to Adjunct Tavore’s battered, plain armor.

Mallick Rel - Round-faced and full-featured, corpulent, wearing blue silks. His hair was colourless, cut short and oiled. Sleepy eyes regarded the Adjunct with an executioner’s avarice.

For Laseen we get… nothing. No, really – nothing. Laseen is, by design, so unremarkable that Steven does not even go to the length of describing her. In fact, we get so little in the way of descriptions I just have to assume that Laseen is dressed in every day gear, her hair kept unkempt, probably with knee-high moccasins & a silk tunic. Which is to say, nothing that would indicate her stature in this meeting.

In stark contrast to Mallick – for whom Steven uses three different adjectives to say he’s fat – in blue silks, with dyed green teeth, looked after & well-oiled hair. By all accounts, Mallick is dressed like a king. Appearances are not something Erikson puts great weight into – but here, especially, I think it matters a lot.

Furthermore, Erikson never adds any “fluff” to Laseen’s dialogue throughout the scene. She often speaks without inflection, having distanced herself from the conversation. It’s always, “Laseen said”, or “the Empress spoke”. Save from an attempt at biting sarcasm & a slight tilt of her head, from then on, Laseen’s dialogue never sees much in the way of description. Her words sound honest, inflectionless, matter-of-fact.

Contrast this to Mallick’s dialogue.

Mallick Rel spoke: ‘Victims, alas. Spilled blood, to slacken the thirst, the need. Unfortunate, but no other path presents. All are saddened here.’ Oh, the humanity! Won’t someone think of the children!

Mallick Rel hissed, then said, ‘Matters unleashed by an otataral sword, you mean! It is as I feared, Empress! She serves another, now, and would draw cold iron across the throat of the Malazan Empire!’ Aye, you’re not fooling anyone, buddy.

‘The blood this night belongs to the Wickans and the Khundryl.’ A statement from the Adjunct, devoid of all emotion.

‘It must be so,’ the Jhistal priest murmured, as if struck anew by grief.

I love how Mallick absolutely misses the point behind this. Tavore is more than just Mallick’s equal in wits. Case in point in a few sentences down the line.

‘In this way,’ Mallick Rel said, spreading his hands, ‘necessity is an economic matter, yes? That an ignorant and backward people must be eradicated is sad, indeed, but alas, inevitable.’

Oh, the humanity, again.

Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!

Mallick Rel’s round, oiled face slowly drained of what little colour it had possessed.

‘Your point, woman?’ Mallick Rel asked.

‘It is useful, on occasion, to halt upon a path, and to turn and walk back some distance.’

‘Achieving what?’

‘An understanding of motivations, Jhistal. It seems that this is a night of unravelling, after all. Covenants, treaties, and memories—’

Mallick seems to have mastered the art of saying plenty, without, in truth, saying anything of substance.

He is pompous, using bombast & eloquent language in an attempt to hide away his true intentions. Of course, this does not work – everyone present is aware of Rel’s intentions; they brought him here in chains, no less - but that’s not what matters. What matters is the intent behind these words.

Each word drips spite & hatred and it is truly fascinating how Tavore manages to not only see through his bullshit, but deconstruct it in such a raw manner which brings Mallick to squirm like the petty, filthy worm he is.

Gods, I love this scene.

The Genius Subtext of Chapter Twentythree of the Bonehunters

“Sit if you must, Kalam, but be silent. And understand, I did not request your presence here this night.”

Kalam sensed a hidden question in that statement, to which he but shrugged. No, Laseen, I’m not ready to give you anything.

The Empress is assessing the environment around her. She’s cornered on both sides by two men in arguably far better positions than her.

She’s forced to bank on the fact that Kalam Mekhar is a Claw – and a Claw she’s persuaded with a past, “a man that is not without reason” - and she trusts that he will do what is necessary. Banking for the future, if you will.

[…]

Laseen fixed her attention on the Adjunct. “Welcome home, Tavore”, she said.

“Thank you, Empress.”

“The transports in the harbor display the flag of plague – you and I both know that no plague is present among the soldiers of your army.” She tilted her head. “What am I to make of this attempt at deception?”

“Empress, Fist Keneb has evidently concluded that, regardless of Captain Rynag’s views, Malaz City is in a state of civil unrest, sufficient to make Keneb fear for the well-being of the Fourteenth, should the army disembark. After all, I have with me Wickans – whose loyalty to the Empire, I might add, is beyond reproach. In addition, we have a substantial force of Khundryl Burned Tears, who have also served with distinction. To land such troops could invite a bloodbath.”

The first salvo in the ensuing battle.

Tavore knows full well who both these men present are. She’s fought against Korbolo Dom’s Dogslayers & she brought Mallick Rel back to Unta in chains. She knows what they’re playing at – now all the Adjunct needs is confirmation about where her Empress stands.

 ‘A bloodbath, Adjunct?’ Laseen’s brows rose. ‘Captain Rynag was given specific orders to ensure that the soldiers of the Fourteenth disarm prior to disembarking.’

‘Thus leaving them at the mercy of an enflamed mob, Empress.’

Laseen waved dismissively.

Both Laseen & Tavore know what will happen to the Fourteenth should they disarm – but it’s not in Laseen’s interest to see the Fourteenth destroyed. All she needs is Tavore’s word that they’ll stand down. The Wickans & Khundryl will then be subjected to the same treatment as Felisin Paran & co. during the Cull last year, while the Malaz 14th will be brought back into the Imperial fold.

Tavore, of course, will have none of that.

‘Empress,’ the Adjunct continued, ‘I believe there is now the misapprehension, here in the heart of the empire, that the events commonly known as the Chain of Dogs – and those that followed at Aren – are somehow suspect.’ She paused, then resumed, ‘I see that Korbolo Dom, who commanded the renegade Dogslayers, and who was captured and arrested in Raraku, is once more a free man, and, indeed, a High Fist. Furthermore, the Jhistal priest and likely instigator in the slaughter of the Aren Army, Mallick Rel, now sits as your adviser in these proceedings. Needless to say, I am confused by this. Unless, of course, the Seven Cities Rebellion has succeeded beyond its wildest dreams, regardless of my own successes in Seven Cities.’

Second salvo – Tavore is now firmly in the offensive, for she knows the Empress is not yet lost. Perhaps she has no love for Laseen, but anything would be better than bowing before Korbolo & Mallick.

This is the first in a series of subtextual “pleas” from both sides. Tavore here pleads for the life of her soldiers & for her Empress to see reason. She’s siding with known war criminals & traitors.

Laseen, with no shortage of anguish, I can imagine, counters thusly.

‘My dear Tavore,’ Laseen said, ‘I admit to some embarrassment on your behalf. You appear to hold to the childish notion that some truths are intransigent and undeniable. Alas, the adult world is never so simple. All truths are malleable. Subject, by necessity, to revision. Have you not yet observed, Tavore, that in the minds of the people in this empire, truth is without relevance? It has lost its power. It no longer effects change and indeed, the very will of the people – born of fear and ignorance, granted – the very will, as I said, can in turn revise those truths, can transform, if you like, the lies of convenience into faith, and that faith in turn is not open to challenge.’

I want to pin this quote on the wall of my room because it so perfectly encapsulates just how cornered Laseen is.

Surly, in all her years of being the Imperial Regent & the Empress of the Malazan Empire, never once condemned Kellanved’s memory – never once exercised what could be described as “damnatio memoriae”.

People know & remember the old Emperor for what he was – Surly never once utilized propaganda and “malleable truths” to present herself as better than what she is. She never attempted to undermine Kellanved’s legacy, or his reforms, or his conquests. The only time we see anything come close to that is when Surly outlawed magery in the prologue of Gardens of the Moon, which can’t even be considered “damning Kellanved’s memory” because the Emperor is still alive at this time – and beyond that, nothing whatsoever.

Everyone knows the Claw murdered Dassem. Everyone knows Surly assassinated Kellanved. She never made any semblance of an effort to hide truths beneath veils of lies. Laseen owns her mistakes & pays the price for their consequences.

This is not a notion Surly subscribes to.

No, this – and, I think, this is what Tavore does not see, the critical truth behind the subtext of this scene – is Laseen indirectly condemning Rel. The fact that “the truth does not matter” later becomes a massive character point for the Adjunct, and we see the truth of this in the last chapter of the Crippled God:

“‘However, your proponents – the officers and functionaries in Aren – couldn’t see a span beyond their city’s walls. They could not imagine that Jhistal Mallick Rel would not rot away the rest of his days in a gaol cell, or lose his head to a pike above the main gate. In other words, they had no comprehension of the extent of the man’s influence, how it had already corrupted the Claw, or that his agents were even then positioned within reach of Laseen’s throne. ‘Furthermore,’ she continued, still studying him, ‘that his hatred for you and your … betrayal at Aren, following Coltaine’s fall, pretty much assured your eventual assassination. You may indeed be unaware that between the Fall and my arrival in the city three attempts were made on your life. All of them successfully intercepted, at the cost of four valuable agents.

‘Your transfer to under my command was in fact the only means of keeping you alive, Fist Blistig. The fourth time your life was saved was at Malaz City; had we failed in extricating ourselves you would have been arrested and executed. Now, you may choose to believe that I undertook such efforts because I value you as a commander, and be sure that to this day I remain impressed and admiring of your quick wit and decisiveness when refusing to yield Aren to the rebels. But that was not my primary reason for saving your life. Mallick Rel, High Fist Korbolo Dom and their interests would seek to revise the events at Aren – the outlawing and castigation of the Wickans was but the beginning.

‘Fist Blistig, there are few who know the truth of those events. I saved your life to keep that truth alive.’”

Yet, these words cut deep into Tavore. After everything she & her army have gone through, the last thing she will do is give up her army to the murderous whims of a Jhistal priest. Third salvo.

 ‘In challenging,’ the Adjunct said after a moment, ‘one commits treason.’

In challenging the otherwise malleable truth, one finds it rigid – for, as Laseen says, it has been transformed into faith. And that faith, is not easily challenged. Understanding dawns on Tavore.

The Empress smiled. ‘I see you grow older with every heartbeat, Tavore. Perhaps we might mourn the loss of innocence, but not for long, I’m afraid. The Malazan Empire is at its most precarious moment, and all is uncertain, hovering on the cusp. We have lost Dujek Onearm to plague – and his army appears to have vanished entirely, likely also victims of that plague. Events have taken a turn for the worse in Korel. The decimation of Seven Cities has struck us a near mortal blow with respect to our economy and, specifically, the harvests. We may find ourselves facing starvation before the subcontinent can recover. It becomes imperative, Tavore, to force a new shape upon our empire.’

“The Malazan Empire is at its most precarious moment” is yet another one of those silent pleas – the Empire starts and ends here, in Mock’s Hold, with Laseen encapsulating the Empire. She is at her most precarious moment. She’s cornered and out of moves – the only move she has left is a desperate gamble to win back the favor of her Adjunct while also appeasing the bloodlust of the mob, preventing a famine in Quon Tali, and relieve the disastrous Korelri campaign.

Do note, however, that none of these problems are beyond Laseen’s reach. The Fist campaigns have been a disaster since before Surly’s assassinations. The Empress seems to be genuinely popular with the populace – beyond the imminent unrest due to starvation, Laseen’s reign has, despite the losses, being an overall success.

She put down the Seven Cities revolt, consolidated Imperial rule in Genabackis, thwarted the efforts of the Pannion Domin (and the Crippled God) – she has every reason to be popular.

Yet, she has lost too much. Dujek & Whiskeyjack, Laseen’s “Shaved Knuckles”, are dead. Ganoes took the Host to Kolanse, away from Quon Tali. The Seventh & Pormqual’s troops are dead, and now the Bonehunters will soon be condemned as traitors.

Who can you place behind each of these failings?

The Jhistal priest, Mallick Rel.

Plenty of people say that Mallick “saved” the Empire after assuming overall command.

I beg to disagree. The priest created problems & then passed himself as the solution. Everything – the Chain of Dogs, the Fall outside Aren, the slaughter of Pormqual’s troops, the Wickan pogroms – it all can be traced back to the Jhistal. And here, we get to see his plans unveil.

 ‘And what, Empress, does this new shape entail?’

 Mallick Rel spoke: ‘Victims, alas. Spilled blood, to slacken the thirst, the need. Unfortunate, but no other path presents. All are saddened here.’

Tavore slowly blinked. ‘You wish me to hand over the Wickans.’

‘And,’ Mallick Rel said, ‘the Khundryl.’

The cards are now on the table by the mastermind behind these events – Mallick. There is no subtext here – Mallick is pressing his advantage directly; he knows he’s in a position of power. Tavore is not going to leave the city alive if she does not yield. He wants revenge – and, by Mael, he will have it.

Korbolo Dom suddenly leaned forward. ‘One other matter, Tavore Paran. Who in Hood’s name are on those catamarans?’

‘Soldiers of a people known as the Perish.’

‘Why are they here?’ the Napan demanded, baring his teeth.

‘They have pledged allegiance, High Fist.’

‘To the Malazan Empire?’

Take note of how Tavore does not elaborate further on the Perish, even when pressed. Emotions are warring inside the Adjunct – she is feeling but a fraction of what Laseen feels & the realization of just how cornered her Empress is sets in. She flat out ignores Korbolo and resumes.

The Adjunct hesitated, then fixed her gaze once more upon Laseen. ‘Empress, I must speak with you. In private. There are matters that belong exclusively to the Empress and her Adjunct.’

The audible plea. The last card that Tavore can play to avert the upcoming disaster. It’s not hard to imagine what she does not say.

“Empress, I must speak with you, please. In private, now. There are matters that belong exclusively to the Empress and her Adjunct. I cannot do as you ask. Please, give me another way.”

But Mallick is not going to let an opportunity slip by, and he pounces immediately.

Mallick Rel hissed, then said, ‘Matters unleashed by an otataral sword, you mean! It is as I feared, Empress! She serves another, now, and would draw cold iron across the throat of the Malazan Empire!’

Laseen knows she’s being toyed with by Mallick – but how would she counter? There’s no way to counter. She has nothing left – only Tavore, and a wild card – Kalam Mekhar. It’s not hard to imagine Laseen’s heart sinking further & further at each choice being more difficult than the last.

Tavore – in an uncharacteristic burst of emotion – lashes out directly against Mallick. In everyone’s eyes, she’s completely in the right. But, as Laseen said earlier, truths have no effect in this room, no longer.

Tavore’s expression twisted, unveiling disgust as she looked upon the Jhistal priest. ‘The empire has ever refused an immortal patron, Mallick Rel. For this reason more than any other, we have survived and, indeed, grown ever stronger. What are you doing here, priest?’

“The Empire has ever refused an immortal patron” – indirectly endorsing, retroactively, Laseen’s choice to assassinate Dassem Ultor. Tavore, essentially, pledges her support in a last bid effort to Surly. I do admit that this is a stretch, but in a way, it’s Tavore’s way to say, “the past does not matter. We can still save this.”

‘Who do you now serve, woman?’ Mallick Rel demanded.

‘I am the Adjunct to the Empress.’

‘Then you must do as she commands! Give us the Wickans!’

It’s not hard to imagine Laseen & Kalam squirming in their chairs as this exchange goes on. Mallick can afford to be as blunt as he likes because he has the upper hand in every conceivable manner. The only thing that could stop him is Kalam putting a blade to the Jhistal’s throat. However, he slips up here.

‘Us? Ah, now I see. You were cheated of some of your glory outside Aren. Tell me, how long before an arrest writ is issued for Fist Blistig, the once commander of the Aren Guard who defied the order to leave the city? Because of him and him alone, Aren did not fall.’

 Laseen asked, ‘Were not the Red Blades in Aren arrested by Blistig, Tavore?’

‘At Pormqual’s command. Please, Empress, we must speak, you and I, alone.’

 And Kalam saw then, in Laseen’s eyes, something he thought he would never see. A flicker of fear.

The cards are laid flat out on the table. Laseen realizes the extent of just how fucked she is, Tavore outright pleads with her for some time alone, a few precious moments to explain the situation, to formulate a plan, something.

And yet, it’s not to be. Laseen’s downfall is sealed in stone – she has lost her title in all but name.

But it was Korbolo Dom who spoke. ‘Adjunct Tavore, I am now High Fist. And, with Dujek’s death, I am ranking High Fist. Furthermore, I have assumed the title and responsibilities of First Sword of the Empire, a post sadly vacant since Dassem Ultor’s untimely death. Accordingly, I now assume command of the Fourteenth Army.’

First of all, this is bollocks. The First Sword of the Empire does not outrank the Adjunct of the Empress. Tavore can pull rank on Korbolo & have the bastard strung up if need be. And ah, ye cruel gods, how I wish she did.

The only thing that can disarm the Fourteenth & hand over command to Korbolo Dom is Laseen’s command. But, of course, we’ve already established that the truth, and the Imperial command structure, does not matter.

Moreover, what is not outright said is that the title of First Sword of the Empire implicitly brings along with it a... how did Tavore put it? Ah, right. “An immortal patron;” in this case, Mael. Another stretch, perhaps – but “The First Sword of the Empire” had always carried a deeper meaning – lest we forget what Dassem taking on that title did to the man. Quote from Chapter Nine of the Crippled God:

‘He is mortal, Logros. He does not know what he has done in taking for himself the title of First Sword.’

‘In service,’ Logros replied, ‘the T’lan Imass sanctify him—’

‘You would make of him a god?’

‘We are warriors. Our blessing shall—’

‘Damn him for eternity!’

‘Onos T’oolan, you are of no use to us.’

It’s not a title to be taken lightly – it has far reaching implications that the Napan Fist clearly does not understand. To put it bluntly, he’s a daft, ambitious idiot without the necessary wits to go about it. No matter.

Korbolo has now attempted to usurp Tavore’s command – with the Empress’ blessing, perhaps - and is forcing her hand. If she goes against Laseen’s wishes, if she challenges, as she put it, Tavore commits treason.

The alternative is standing down & having much of the Fourteenth Army be slaughtered and the truth be forever stained, an alternative we’ve already established is a complete dealbreaker for Tavore.

And now, all there is left for the Adjunct are two options.

Let her Wickans & Khundryl become fodder for the appeasement of a mob, and let her soldiers become part of Korbolo’s armies, or commit high treason against the Malazan Empire.

Let us take a moment to appreciate the genius of Mallick’s here – since Korbolo is a grade A dumbass & could probably not have orchestrated this at all. As Heboric put it in Deadhouse Gates, “bitter admiration” is all I have for this slimy bastard.

Laseen, then, proceeds to seal the deal – her hand is forced; she has lost Tavore for good. One last futile attempt that she knows Tavore will not – can not – accept. I cannot say why she does this. The following analysis is primarily speculation on my end, based on future events. It’s perfectly logical to assume otherwise, however – and I’d love to hear more thoughts on this specific excerpt.

‘Tavore,’ Laseen said quietly, ‘it was never the function of an Adjunct to command armies. Necessity forced my hand with the rebellion in Seven Cities, but that is now over. You have completed all that I asked of you, and I am not blind to your loyalty. It grieves me that this meeting has become so overtly hostile – you are the extension of my will, Tavore, and I do not regret my choice. No, not even now. It seems I must make the details of my will clear to you. I want you at my side once more, in Unta. Mallick Rel may well possess talents in many areas of administration, but he lacks in others – I need you for those, Tavore, I need you at my side to complement the Jhistal priest. You see before you the restructuring of the imperial high command. A new First Sword now assumes overall command of the Malazan Armies. The time has come, Tavore, to set aside your own sword.’

“I want you at my side once more, in Unta.”

She cannot accept this, and Laseen knows this. In a way, this is Laseen’s way of apologizing to Tavore. “I don’t want this to happen. I’m sorry.”

“Mallick Rel may well possess talents in many areas of administration, but he lacks in others.”

This is not false, per se, but both Empress & Adjunct know what this implies.

“I need you for those, Tavore; I need you at my side to complement the Jhistal priest.”

And remove him from power, when at last we have secured power. Kind of like sanctifying the Crippled God’s House of Chains, elevating Mallick to a position of power within the Malazan Empire, under Tavore, would put an implicit leash on him. He’d be kept in check.

“You see before you the restructuring of the Imperial high command. A new First Sword now assumes overall command of the Malazan armies.”

Needless to say, if Laseen had wanted a new First Sword, she’d have appointed one in the last ten years that she’s been ruling. No, Laseen does not want this. As I said earlier, the Imperial command structure no longer matters.

But, of course, as Laseen once put it, way back in Deadhouse Gates:

 “An empire is greater than any lone mortal—”

 “Including you.”

“Including me.”

In a similar manner, comes the implicit conversation between Tavore and Laseen.

“The fate of the world is greater than any mortal empire —“

“Including the Malazans?”

“Including the Malazans.”

Tavore’s game is far bigger than any empire, any singular will of any Empress, despot, ruler, tyrant or otherwise.

All of this goes through the Adjunct’s mind as she makes her decision.

Part Two of the Genius Subtext of this scene

Silence. From Tavore, no movement, not a single twitch of emotion. ‘As you command, Empress.’

Beneath his clothes, Kalam felt his skin grow hot, as if close to blistering flames. Sweat ran down his body; he could feel it beading on his face and neck. He stared down at his leather-clad hands, motionless on the worn wood of the tabletop.

‘I am pleased,’ Laseen said.

Tavore had been on an emotional rollercoaster thus far – yet now, not a single twitch, not a speck of emotion.

Laseen knows Tavore made her decision. It’s too late for her, but she can’t show weakness in front of the First Sword & Mallick – and both of them know this.

‘It will be necessary,’ Tavore said, ‘for me to return, briefly, to the docks. I believe Fist Keneb will doubt the veracity of the change of command if informed by anyone but me.’

‘A most loyal man,’ Mallick Rel murmured.

‘Yes, he is that.’

Everyone in the room now knows Tavore made her decision. Everyone, except maybe Korbolo, because the guy is more dense than a brick of osmium. Tavore cannot reach the docks alive.

‘And these Perish?’ Korbolo Dom demanded. ‘Are they worth the trouble? Will they submit to my authority?’

‘I cannot speak for them in that matter,’ Tavore said tonelessly. ‘But they will not reject any overtures out of hand. As for their prowess, I believe it will suffice, at least in an auxiliary function to our regulars.’

‘There is nothing more to them?’

The Adjunct’s shrug was careless. ‘They are foreigners, First Sword. Barbarians.’

Barbarians sailing the finest warships on the damned ocean, aye.

But Korbolo Dom, in all his percipience and razor-honed judgement, simply nodded.

Remember when Tavore would not elaborate on the Perish? Now, after having gauged Korbolo Dom’s personality, she feels safe to flat out lie to his face. If Korbolo is aware of this, he makes no sign – I suspect he is, but it doesn’t matter. They were not going to submit regardless.

Another moment of silence, in which so many things could have been said, in which the course of the Malazan Empire could have found firmer footing. Silence, and yet to Kalam it seemed he could hear the slamming of doors, the clatter and crunch of portcullis dropping, and he saw hallways, avenues, where the flickering light dimmed, then vanished.

If the Empress were to speak then, with words for the Adjunct alone – anything, any overture that did not ring false—

Steve, here, under the guise of Kalam, spells out the situation. The intensity of the scene is given some pause to let the audience breathe.

The future of the Malazan Empire is grim, indeed.

Mallick Rel said, ‘Adjunct, there is the matter of two Wickans, a warlock and a witch.’

Tavore’s eyes remained on Laseen. ‘Of course. Fortunately, they are ineffectual, a consequence of the trauma they experienced with Coltaine’s death.’

‘Nonetheless, the Claw will effect their arrest.’

I love the detail that Tavore’s eyes are fixed on Laseen, scanning the Empress for any sign that would help avert the future events. It tears at Tavore to have to betray the Empire. Yet another one of those “silent pleas” we talked about earlier. Or, perhaps, anger & disappointment. It’s hard to tell, as always, with Tavore.

The Empress said, ‘It cannot be helped, Tavore. Even with a remnant of their old power, they could unleash slaughter upon the citizens of Malaz City, and that we cannot have.’

This is bollocks. The Wickan warlocks access the spirits of the land they reside upon, and Malaz City has nothing remotely close to that. Still, they are Wickans, and Laseen never had the best relationship with mages. Sacrifices need to be made.

This is one of the few pieces of dialogue to which I have nothing to add to the defense of the Empress. Neither party can back down, and it takes a cold heart to sacrifice the Wickan warlocks – children, mind you.

‘The blood this night belongs to the Wickans and the Khundryl.’ A statement from the Adjunct, devoid of all emotion.

A statement from Tavore that seems to imply that she’s going to give up the Wickans & Khundryl. Of course, we know better.

The blood spilled on the streets of Malaz Island, the thousands among the mob & hundreds of Claws that will cross Hood’s Gate on this night, will be in the name of the Wickans & Khundryl Burned Tears. The definitive statement, the equivalent of “alea iacta est”, if you will.

Fuck me, that quote hits hard.

‘Tavore,’ Laseen said, ‘will the Khundryl prove recalcitrant in yielding their arms and armour? Do they not number two thousand, or more?’

‘A word from me will suffice,’ the Adjunct said.

‘I am greatly relieved,’ the Empress said, with a faint smile, ‘that you now comprehend the necessity of what will occur this night. In the broader scheme of things, Tavore, the sacrifice is modest. It is also clear that the Wickans have outlived their usefulness – the old covenants with the tribes must be dispensed with, now that Seven Cities and its harvest have become so thoroughly disrupted. In other words, we need the Wickan Plains. The herds must be slaughtered and the earth broken, crops planted. Seven Cities has provided us a harsh lesson when it comes to relying upon distant lands for the resources the empire consumes.’

As harsh as these words sound, Laseen is not wrong in saying this. Soon enough, there’s a chance that mainland Quon Tali will be facing starvation with the devastation of the Seven Cities continent due to the Whirlwind rebellion.

The “sacrifice” serves many fronts. It appeases Mallick & Korbolo’s hatred of the Wickans, it provides a convenient scapegoat for the ire of the mob, and it provides new plains & fields for the Empire’s granaries to take hold.

It’s a cold move born of necessity, but not an unjustifiable one. Also, one has to imagine it’s been greatly motivated by Mallick’s riling up of a mob – the cultivation of the Wickan plains could’ve been done peacefully, with the Wickans compensated for their losses – but that goes against Mallick’s plan for vengeance, and we can’t have that. Once more, Laseen is committed. It’s a cold & calculated move – there’s already an army (the Fourth) deployed in Quon Tali ready to strike against the Wickans, along with the rabble of about ten thousand militiamen on their way to the Plains at the moment. Not much to say in her defense – criticize away.

‘In this way,’ Mallick Rel said, spreading his hands, ‘necessity is an economic matter, yes? That an ignorant and backward people must be eradicated is sad, indeed, but alas, inevitable.’

‘You would well know of that,’ Tavore said to him. ‘The Gedorian Falari cult of the Jhistal was eradicated in a similar manner by Emperor Kellanved, after all. Presumably you are among the very few survivors from that time.’

Burn, you slimy, fat bast-

Excuse me.

Tavore, yet again, displays keen knowledge of her enemies – and Mallick is not a person she’s willing to let off easily. Last salvo, and the ship is sinking.

Mallick Rel’s round, oiled face slowly drained of what little colour it had possessed.

The Adjunct continued, ‘A very minor note in the imperial histories, difficult to find. I believe, however, should you peruse the works of Duiker, you will find suitable references. Of course, “minor” is a relative term, just as, I suppose, this Wickan Pogrom will be seen in later histories. For the Wickans themselves, of course, it will be anything but minor.’

‘Your point, woman?’ Mallick Rel asked.

‘It is useful, on occasion, to halt upon a path, and to turn and walk back some distance.’

‘Achieving what?’

‘An understanding of motivations, Jhistal. It seems that this is a night of unravelling, after all. Covenants, treaties, and memories—’

The Adjunct has put the metaphorical dagger to Mallick’s neck & has earned his ire. Even if she’s made the decision to betray the Empire & leave Laseen to her own devices (objectively, the best choice), this does not mean she’s not going to put forth everything about Mallick’s past – a past he’s done well to repress, but he’s still very infamous in the Falari Isles (a quote from Assail: “’But we of the sea trade in Falar know of the old blood-cult, the Jhistal. Its followers terrorized our islands for generations. He-‘ […] “You speak of limited horizons. We in Falar had squirmed in the grip of those priests for generations. To speak up was to find one’s children selected as the next sacrifice to the sea. The Malazans broke that grip and for that I will be forever grateful, despite the cost. But the new emperor (Mallick) . . . he tries to rewrite the history of it, but there are those who still dare to whisper that he came out of that hierarchy. That he was once a priest of the Jhistal. And so as long as he may rule we will never speak his name”).

The fact that Mallick is an evil bastard is not lost on Tavore, either – as much as he tries to rewrite the truth, from this day onwards, the Adjunct has made it her mission to see that the truth will always prevail.

‘This debate,’ the Empress cut in, ‘can be conducted another time. The mob in the city below will soon turn upon itself if the proper victims are not delivered. Are you ready, Adjunct?’

Kalam found he was holding his breath. He could not see Tavore’s eyes, but something in Laseen’s told him that the Adjunct had locked gazes with the Empress, and in that moment something passed between them, and slowly, in increments, the eyes of Laseen went flat, strangely colourless.

The Adjunct rose. ‘I am, Empress.’

The final plea, with their eyes locking. An apology, perhaps. A plea to understand the necessity of the situation. It’s hard to say if Tavore humors her, in these last few moments of the two ever seeing each other – but I believe, in keeping with the theme of compassion, Tavore, with the foresight that she has, feels for Laseen here. She knows that her leaving has most likely condemned the Empress to death, but the alternative is far, far worse.

As someone in an entirely different context once put it,

“The hardest choices often require the strongest wills.”

Tavore has the strongest fucking will in all of Wu.

‘Adjunct,’ he said in a weary rumble, ‘I will see you out.’

‘When you are done that courtesy,’ the Empress said, ‘please return here. I have never accepted your resignation from the Claw, Kalam Mekhar, and indeed, it is in my mind that worthy promotions are long overdue. The apparent loss of Topper in the Imperial Warren has left vacant the command of the Claw. I can think of no-one more deserving of that position.’

Kalam’s brows lifted. ‘And do you imagine, Empress, that I would assume that mantle and just settle back in Unta’s West Tower, surrounding myself with whores and sycophants? Do you expect another Topper?’

Now it was Laseen’s turn to speak without inflection. ‘Most certainly not, Kalam Mekhar.’

The entire Claw, under my control. Gods, who would fall first? Mallick Rel. Korbolo Dom …

And she knows that. She offers that. I can cut the cancers out of the flesh … but first, some Wickans need to die. And … not just Wickans.

And there it is. Laseen’s final gamble.

Banking on Kalam’s loyalty to the Malazan Empire, banking on him to do what’s right.

It’s desperate, it’s blunt, and it has a very high chance of failure.

But it’s the best Laseen has right now. Topper is gone. The Claw is irreparably infiltrated. The streets of Malaz City are not safe. Mock’s Hold is not safe.

Laseen is offering the three of them a choice. Kalam joins Laseen & there’s a chance they mend the Empire’s wounds and walk out of here alive.

Alternatively, they die fighting six hundred Claws in the streets of Malaz City.

‘Kalam Mekhar. How many Hands await us?’

He looked away. ‘Each Hand is trained to work as a unit. Both a strength and a flaw.’

‘How many?’

‘Four ships moored below. Could be as many as eighty.’

‘Eighty?’

The assassin nodded. You are dead, Adjunct. So are you, T’amber. ‘She will not let you get back to the ships,’ he said, still not meeting their gazes. ‘To do so invites a civil war—’

‘No,’ Tavore said.

Tavore now carves out a third option. Flight through the streets of Malaz City, to the harbor, and away. Far, far away… Of course, they still have to, you know, not die. Which is easier said than done.

Kalam frowned, glanced at her.

‘We are leaving the Malazan Empire. And in all likelihood, we will never return.’

He walked to a wall, leaned his back against it, and closed his eyes. Sweat streamed down his face. ‘Don’t you understand what she just offered me? I can walk right back into that room and do precisely what she wants me to do – what she needs me to do. She and I will then walk out of there, leaving two corpses, their heads sawed off and planted on that damned table. Damn this, Tavore. Eighty Hands!’

Kalam knows just as well the extent of Laseen’s plight. He understands the gamble. He’s her best shot after Tavore denied her.

But, of course, Tavore has other plans. Admittedly, the best course of action in the grand scheme of things. I’d be disingenuous if I criticized Tavore for this.

‘I understand,’ the Adjunct said. ‘Go then. I will not think less of you, Kalam Mekhar. You are of the Malazan Empire. Now serve it.’

Still he did not move, nor open his eyes. ‘So it means nothing to you, now, Tavore?’

‘I have other concerns.’

‘Explain them.’

‘No.’

I’ve gone a bit off track here, but gods below this fucking scene is amazing. As was stated before in the guise of Tavore, the fate of the world is bigger than any mortal empire.

T’amber said, ‘There is a convergence this night, Kalam, here in Malaz City. The game is in a frenzy of move and countermove, and yes, Mallick Rel is a participant, although the hand that guides him remains remote, unseen. Removing him, as you intend to do, will prove a deadly blow and may well shift the entire balance. It may well save not just the Malazan Empire, but the world itself. How can we object to your desire?’

I staunchly disagree with this assessment.

The removal of Mallick from the game does not fundamentally change anything.

Starvation is still at hand, the Fourth & the militia are still on their way to the Wickan plains, the pogroms will still take place, Korelri is still a mess, and a Civil War is, even now, imminent.

However, removing Mallick would remedy the situation and – probably – keep Laseen in power for the foreseeable future.

‘And yet …’

‘Yes,’ T’amber said. ‘We are asking you. Kalam, without you we stand no chance at all—’

‘Six hundred assassins, damn you!’ He set his head against the wall, unwilling, unable to look upon these two women, to see the need in their eyes. ‘I’m not enough. You have to see that. We all go down, and Mallick Rel lives.’

Kalam is even more torn than Tavore was. He was a Claw that made his way to Malaz City – here – to face down ­­Laseen in a search for answers, as T’amber goes on to say in a minute.­­­­

‘As you say,’ Tavore replied.

He waited for her to add something more, a final plea. He waited for a new tack from T’amber. But there was only silence.

‘Is it worth it, Adjunct?’

‘Win this battle, Kalam, or win the war.’

‘I’m just one man.’

‘Yes.’

With a shaved knuckle in the hole.

His palms itched against the damp leather of his gloves. ‘That Jhistal priest holds a grudge.’

‘A prolonged one, yes,’ said T’amber. ‘That, and a lust for power.’

The only thing I do wonder about is what war is Tavore referring to here. Freeing the Crippled God is her ulterior motive, but I wonder if she means the war for the Malazan Empire? It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things – Tavore does not come back, after all – but it’s an interesting thought.

‘Laseen is desperate.’

‘Yes, Kalam, she is.’

‘Why not stay right here, the both of you? Wait for me to kill them. Wait, and I will convince the Empress that this pogrom needs to be stopped. Right now. No more blood spilled. There’s six hundred assassins in the city below – we can crush this madness, scour away this fever—’

‘No more blood, Kalam Mekhar?’ T’amber’s question stung him, then he shook his head.

‘Ringleaders, nothing more will be required.’

‘It is clear that something has not occurred to you,’ T’amber said.

Kalam is this close to fulfilling Laseen’s implied wishes – a death sentence, perhaps, but it would save her rule. Temporarily, but it would. She’s still in a bad position, but at least she has breathing room.

Before I continue, I find it interesting that at no point does Laseen order anyone to do anything. She has the authority to command Kalam, Tavore & T’amber just fine. The closest thing to a direct command Laseen gives, is this:

‘The time has come, Tavore, to set aside your own sword.’

Which is an order, yes, but in the most indirect way imaginable. She does not order her – or her troops – to stand down. She pleads with her to “set aside her own sword” and take up an administrative position in the capital by her side.

No, because Laseen is keenly aware of the situation – and it is not in her interest to force anyone’s hands. As long as she gets her point across, the only thing she can do from then on is wait. The only time she gives an order is when she’s out of waiting time, and she needs to make a move, even though it hurts her. You wish to criticize her for this? Go on ahead.

‘What hasn’t?’

‘The Claw. They are infiltrated. Extensively. The Jhistal priest has not been idle.’

‘How do you know this?’ Silence once more. Kalam rubbed at his face with both hands. ‘Gods below …’

‘May I ask you a question?’

He snorted. ‘Go ahead, T’amber.’

‘You once railed at the purging of the Old Guard. In fact, you came to this very city not so long ago, intending to assassinate the Empress.’

How does she know this? How could she know any of this? Who is she? ‘Go on.’

Kalam is a man of morals, and that morality is being tested. Save the Empire he’s sworn to serve, or plunge into the madness of the Adjunct’s plan?

This isn’t particularly relevant to the Laseen analysis – I just love this scene & the context it adds to every character involved.

This conversation decides Laseen & the Empire’s future. A delicate strand hanging in the balance.

And it tips… the balance tips against her.

‘You were driven by outrage, by indignation. Your own memories had been proclaimed nothing but lies, and you wanted to defy those revisionists who so sullied all that you valued. You wanted to look into the eyes of the one who decided the Bridgeburners had to die – you needed to see the truth there, and, if you found it, you would act. But she talked you out of it—’

‘She wasn’t even here.’

‘Ah, you knew that, then. Well, no matter. Would that alone have stopped you from crossing to Unta? From chasing her down?’

He shook his head.

‘In any case, where now is your indignation, Kalam Mekhar? Coltaine of the Crow Clan. The Imperial Historian Duiker. The Seventh Army. And now, the Wickans of the Fourteenth. Fist Temul. Nil, Nether. Gall of the Khundryl Burned Tears, who threw back Korbolo Dom at Sanimon – cheating Korbolo’s victory long before Aren. The betrayers are in the throne room—’

‘I can make that stay shortlived.’

‘You can. And if you so choose, the Adjunct and I will die possessing at least that measure of satisfaction. But in dying, so too will many, many others. More than any of us can comprehend.’

‘You ask where is my indignation, but you have the answer before you. It lives. Within me. And it is ready to kill. Right now.’

‘Killing Mallick Rel and Korbolo Dom this night,’ T’amber said, ‘will not save the Wickans, nor the Khundryl. Will not prevent war with the Perish. Or the destruction of the Wickan Plains. The Empress is indeed desperate, so desperate that she will sacrifice her Adjunct in exchange for the slaying of the two betrayers in her midst. But tell me, do you not think Mallick Rel understood the essence of Laseen’s offer to you?’

‘Is that your question?’

‘Yes.’

‘Korbolo Dom is a fool. Likely he comprehends nothing. The Jhistal priest is, unfortunately, not a fool. So, he is prepared.’ Kalam fell silent, although his thoughts continued, following countless tracks. Potentials, possibilities. ‘He may not know I possess an otataral weapon—’

‘The power he can draw upon is Elder,’ T’amber said.

‘So, after all we’ve said here, I may fail.’

‘You may.’

‘And if I do, then we all lose.’

‘Yes.’

Kalam opened his eyes, and found that the Adjunct had turned away. T’amber alone faced him, her gold-hued eyes unwavering in their uncanny regard. 

[…]

The assassin drew a deep breath, then rolled his shoulders. ‘All right, no point in keeping them waiting.’

And thus, Laseen’s Empire is now doomed. The Claw is infiltrated, Hands, loyal or otherwise, fall by the score by Kalam and Apsalar’s blades in Malaz City. The Empress’ last bid is unsuccessful.

T’amber puts it the best in that excerpt, I think.

“The Empress is indeed desperate, so desperate that she will sacrifice her Adjunct in exchange for the slaying of the two betrayers in her midst.”

I don’t think Laseen is ice cold enough to give up her Adjunct without a second thought. The decision that must be made is filled with anguish – but what Laseen does not comprehend is just how much bigger Tavore’s game is.

We’re past simple Empire building games. We’re past the conquests of petty kingdoms and holy Falah’dans.

The fate of the world is at stake, and Tavore spearheads the cause, raising high once more the tattered standard of the Fallen…

And this brings us back to the Malazan Empire – an Empire battered by revolts, betrayals & famine, newly bloodied by the loss of the Fourteenth Army, Adjunct Tavore & High Mage Quick Ben.

Return of the Crimson Guard is a big book that deals a lot with the Malazan Empire’s politics at large, so this post is going to be fundamentally different from the others. As in, we’re not only going to explore Laseen’s actions, but instead we’re going to review the book’s events through the lens of different characters, and then compare & contrast.

Primarily, we’ll be dealing with the Imperials & the Talian League, as the Crimson Guard isn’t drawn to the Malazan Empire for political reasons, but rather the fulfillment of their Vow – thus, it matters not to them who sits on the throne, but that the throne exists in the first place.

Thus, firstly, we’re greeted with the meeting between two of the commanders of the Talian League – Urko “Shatterer” Crust (also known as “Keeper”) & V’thell, a Gold Moranth commander.

Urko in this book functions quite like how Surly was in the late reign of Emperor Kellanved – disgruntled & disillusioned (hah) by the reign of a self-professed Emperor (now Empress), and he resolves to remove the Empress from the throne for “the good of the Empire”. Keep this in mind & notice how Laseen treats Urko later.

‘Welcome to my humble island.’ The two clasped forearms.

‘Will this then be our marshalling point?’

‘Yes. The island is secure. It will serve as one of our depots and staging grounds.’

‘I understand.’ The Gold Moranth, come by all the distance from far northern Genabackis, regarded the man for a time in silence, the chitinous visor of his full helm unreadable.

‘Go ahead, ask it,’ the man ground out.

‘Very well. Why do you pursue this course? You risk – shattering – it all.’

‘We can't stand idly by any longer, V'thell. Everything's slipping away bit by bit. Everything we struggled to raise. She doesn't understand how the machine we built must run.’

‘Yet she had a hand in that building.’

The man's mouth clenched into a hard line. ‘Yeah, that's true. I didn't say it was easy.’

Urko seems to have made his decision but not one he made without agonizing over it first. However, quite like Surly, he believes he cannot stand by, idle, any longer, while “the machine they built” burns to the ground.

That’s the first party we need to establish. Urko works to topple the Empress & install a new ruler to salvage what little could be salvaged because he thinks Surly failed. Next up is the Imperial assembly. Which means… that guy…

Right, I’m just gonna get it out of the way here. Mallick Rel will henceforth be known as “that guy” with any degree of expletives I deem necessary, pending an actual analysis on that guy in a potential future post. Until then, I value my sanity too much to have to analyze all his slimy shit every time he comes up. And he comes up a lot. Thus, that guy.

In the next scene, we’re shown the thoughts of Empress Laseen & Clawmaster Possum following the (rather gruesome, admittedly) execution of Janul and the subsequent assassination of Janelle, two Old Guard members that led a rebellion out of Delanss, in Falar.

Both of them seemed to be close to Laseen & it’s implied that Janul even served as a High Fist prior to the revolt. Evidently, she feels the betrayal more than anyone else. Further, she’s already burdened by oh so many betrayals – and this book has no shortage of those.

Betrayal is a core theme behind Return of the Crimson Guard & one that keeps coming back to bite Laseen in the backside. Poetic justice & all.

Moreover, Laseen talks about pre-emptive measures, preparing for the – possibly inevitable – civil war. She shuts off the Imperial Warren from access – wink wink – and tasks Possum with figuring out who’s behind the internal unrest in the continental provinces.

“After a time Laseen nodded to herself as if ending an internal conversation. She cleared her throat. ‘I want you to personally look into a number of recent things that have been troubling me. Domestic disturbances. Reports of strengthened regional voices.’

‘And the disappearances in the Imperial Warren … ?’ He'd heard much talk of this from the Claw ranks.

‘No. I'm sending no more into that Abyss.’

‘I believe it's haunted. We know almost nothing of it, truth be told.’

‘It's always been unreliable. It's these rumours from the provinces that trouble me. Is anyone behind all the troubles? Who? Put as many on it as it takes. I must know who it is.’

Possum gave a slight bow of the head. So, internal dissent. Rising graft and perhaps even feuding within the administrative ranks. An emboldened nationalist voice here. A large border raid there. Old tribal animosities rekindled. And the Imperial Warren becoming increasingly dangerous. Connected? By whom? She is worried. She is wondering. Could it be them? After so long? Was it now because she is alone?

Or, Possum considered with an internal sneer, could it simply be plain old boredom on their part?

He stopped because Laseen had slowed and halted. She glanced to him. ‘We once were friends you know,’ she said, almost reflective. ‘That is, I thought we understood each other …’ She looked away, the crow's feet at the corners of her eyes tight.

So why did she do it? Why did she betray you? Is that what you're wondering? Or, what did they know that you do not?

Laseen's jaw line hardened. ‘So. You brought her down. Very good. I didn't think—’

‘That I could?’

Laseen blinked. Her lips drew tight and thin. ‘That she would go so quietly.’

Possum shrugged. ‘I surprised her.’

Her gaze snapped to him, sidelong. Possum refused to acknowledge the attention. Let her imagine what she may. Had she not been his right hand? Was he now not hers? Let her wonder, and consider.

Without a word the Empress moved on. Possum followed.”

Aye, betrayal hurts, doesn’t it just.

Which then brings me to my next point: Laseen in Return of the Crimson Guard is a fundamentally changed character.

The actual reason behind this is probably two-fold; differences between authors being the first, and the fact that we mostly view Laseen through the lens of Possum – a, shall we say, less than impartial observer.

However, that’s lame. And I don’t wanna view it that way.

Return of the Crimson Guard takes place – roughly – in the year between the Bonehunters’ departure from Malaz Isle to their arrival in Lether in Reaper’s Gale. In that time, the Malazan Empress had to forsake her most powerful tool – her Adjunct – having been betrayed by many people she once trusted.

To name a few: Tavore, Kalam & the Fourteenth (hardly a betrayal, but certainly a loss that Laseen definitely felt), Topper’s disappearance (the only person that knows of his actual whereabouts to my knowledge is Surly, but she can’t let it on – so for all intents & purposes, for now, Topper is gone), Janul & Janelle (as shown earlier), and the older disappearances that now resurface: Urko, Amaron, Toc the Elder, Choss…

Of course, these betrayals come from a logical standpoint – similar to Laseen’s reasoning for the betrayal of Dancer & Kellanved  - but unlike those two, Laseen seems to genuinely care for the Empire she’s carved out and is not using it as a means to an end. Keep in mind that prior to the assassinations, Surly was the Imperial Regent (i.e. de facto ruler) for a few years while Kellanved & Dancer were away. So, it hurts her mentally far more than it did the other two men.

Laseen’s steel resolve is tested repeatedly throughout this book – and time and again, it comes close to failing. This book is Surly’s reckoning, the consequences of her past catching up to her. In a way, it’s very tragic to read; the legacy of an Empress that gave her heart & soul to her concept of an Empire, that made of herself a bulwark of her work, that committed unthinkable & agonizing acts, all in the name of Empire. Some may say it’s fitting, and I can’t disagree. I appreciate the irony.

Then, we’re given a few episodes with that fucking guy. First, how the incident of the Chain of Dogs still haunts him:

“‘Note the links, sir, chains in miniature. And the pendants! Guaranteed slivers of bone from the very remains of the poor victims of that fiend Coltaine's death march.’ The fat man's eyes seemed to bulge in their sockets. He swallowed with difficulty.

‘My Lord is familiar with that sad episode?’

Mastering himself, Mallick Rel found his voice, croaked, ‘Yes.’

‘A most disgraceful tragedy, was it not?’

Mallick straightened his shoulders. His lips drew back from his stained teeth. ‘Yes. An awful failure. Hauntings of it ever return to me like waves.’

‘Thank the wisdom of the Empress in her call for all Quon to rise against the traitorous Wickans.’

‘Yes. Thank her.’”

Tsk. Keep this in mind for a future book, but for now – just look at this slime maneuver himself through Imperial politics.

This next bit is something I found extremely funny.

“And of course, Mael, his God – and something else as well. It was almost as if the fates had woven the pattern for him to trace all the way to …

Mallick stopped suddenly, almost tripping himself and those next to him within the flow of bodies. He thought of the old woman's rantings. The Gods meddling? Him? No. It couldn't be. None would dare. He was his own man. No one led him.

A hand hard and knotted with arthritis took his elbow, eyes as dark and flat as wet stones close at his side studying him – Oryan. Mallick shook him off. It could not be. He would have a word with Mael. Soon.”

Even Mallick Rel – the Master Manipulator - has doubts that he’s being manipulated in his own right by Shadowthrone, used as an elaborate ploy to bring down Laseen. I don’t think this is what’s happening – Ammanas appears to be busy at this time – but I have to admit I laughed a lot more than I should’ve when I first saw this scene.

Further down the line, that guy is having his aforementioned with his god – and here comes yet another slight of this bastard that I can’t even.

“The ruins of the shore temple were half-submerged in the waters west of Unta Bay. Its broken columns stood in the waves as mere barnacle encrusted humps. Though an easy day's ride from Unta, this shore was a deserted stretch of rearing cliff-sides home to no more than water-birds and sea otters. A short fat man in a dark ocean-blue cloak carefully picked his way down the treacherous turning footpath that traced a way to the base of the cliff.

Reaching the rocky shore, he dabbed the sheen of sweat from his wide face then pulled a folding camp stool of wood and leather from under his cloak and sat with a weary sigh just short of the misting sea-spray.

Fanning himself, the man addressed the surf: ‘Come now! This coyness achieves nothing.’

Though the waves had been pounding the tumbled rocks at the base of the cliff, the surf stilled, subsiding. The water seemed almost to withdraw. The man cocked his head as if listening to the splashing as one might a voice. And a voice spoke, though few else living would have understood it. ‘You compelled, Mallick?’ came the response sounding from the gurgle and murmur of the waves.

Mallick Rel wiped spots of spray from his cloak. ‘Indeed. What news of the mercenaries?’

‘Their ships converge.’

‘And upon those ships – there are Avowed, yes?’

‘Yes. I sense their presence. What will you do, Mallick, when they come for you?’

‘They will not live long enough.’

A chuckled response, ‘Perhaps it is you who will not live long enough.’

‘I have my guardians, and you have no idea what they are capable of.’

‘You are transparent to me, Mallick. It is you who has no idea of what your guardians are capable. I know this for should you have the slightest inkling you would have come begging for deliverance.’

‘Kellanved had his army of undead, the Imass.’

‘A common misconception – they never died. They were … preserved. Regardless, even they would not tolerate either them – or you.’

‘Fortunately, these Imass are no threat to anyone any longer.’

The voice of splashing and whispering water was silent for a time, then came a wondering ‘How brief the memory of humans.’

Mallick gave a languid wave. ‘Yes, yes. In any case, we were discussing the mercenaries. Do not attempt to deflect me.’

‘Of the Guard, their end has not yet been foreseen.’

‘Do not lie to your High Priest, Mael. It is only through the rituals of Jhistal that you yet have a presence here in the world.’

The water stilled, smoothing to glass. A bulge rose swelling to a broad pillar of water. It wavered, fighting to lean forward towards the seated man, then burst in a great rushing crash. ‘And so the bindings hold,’ came the voice again. ‘Rituals so awful, Mallick, even Kellanved was revolted. Regrettable that some of you escaped.’

The man's thick lips drew down in mock pain. ‘Struck to the core, I am. How can you name your own worship revolting? Shall more innocents have their innards splashed out upon you? Or do you resist?’

‘None of your acts are of my choosing, Mallick. You and your cult pursued your own interests. Not mine.’

‘As is true for all worship. But enough theology, diverting though it may be. When the mercenary ships head for Quon you must rush their passage. They must make Quon with all speed. Do you understand?’

‘Yes.’

‘And speed the ships of the secessionists.’

‘You would have me hurry their progress as well?’

‘Yes.’

More chuckling echoed among the rocks. ‘Mallick – you disgust and amaze me. I wonder who of them will get your head first.’

‘I am not dismayed. It is a sure sign of success when everyone wants your head.’”

Many things to unpack here. First off, it’s a sure sign of success when even your own God hates your guts. Congrats, Mallick, you shit.

Second of all, the foreshadowing about the Guard is plentiful throughout the book, but this is yet another – rather poignant – point. The Imass never died, but were preserved; and the end of the Guardsmen has not been foreseen; not even by gods.

Third, the Jhistal cult was horrible; a surprise to no-one. Mallick Rel coming from a cult that made even Kellanved revolt? Shocked to the core, I am. Bastard.

Lastly & most importantly, that guy artificially creates a convergence of powers in the Malazan Empire – the secessionist Talian League is sped up and so is the Crimson Guard, all the way from Stratem. A journey that’d take months if not a year, now takes mere weeks.

Thus, Laseen will have to face many threats at once – the secessionists of the League, with whom Mallick might align only to stab them in the back later, and the mercenary Crimson Guard, the latter of which he believes he can vanquish. Idiot.

One scene I did not show is Mallick’s meeting of Taya Radok, daughter of Vorcan Radok, Mistress of the Assassin Guild of Darujhistan. Needless to say, that guy has contingencies built on contingencies. Respectable.

And so, that fucking guy’s plan manifests into existence. The compelling of an Elder God, the meddling with forces he does not – or would not – understand, his use of “extraordinary companions” from all over the world, and last but not least, his control of the Imperial Assembly (a sort of pseudo parliament-like institution working within the Malazan Empire by assassinating or coercing prominent members. Excellent. Great.

Fuck this guy.

Later, we view the assembly of the prominent members of the Imperial court through the lens of Possum. Arrayed before us are Possum (obviously), the incumbent Clawmaster; High Fist Anand; First Sword of the Empire Korbolo Dom; the only remaining High Mage (And Tayschrenn, but Tayschrenn is all but out of the fight for this one) Havva Gulen; and that fucking guy.

The situation is dire. Very dire. Possum puts it fairly well, I think.

“It was, he reflected, dragging a gloved finger through the dust layering the thick embrasure of the single window, a damned inefficient way to run an empire. Through his control of the Assembly Mallick held the treasury and the government bureaucracy. Meanwhile, as Sword of the Empire, Korbolo Dom commanded the military. That is, what remained of it. Tayschrenn's continued unsettling silence and Quick Ben's desertion to follow Tavore left command of the Imperial Mage Cadre to the completely unknown Havva Gulen – once Archiveress of Imperial Records. A librarian. Gods above and below, Possum brushed the dust from his hands, the new Imperial High Mage was an ex-librarian. The old emperor, who some say ascended to godhood after his death, must be falling off his throne laughing.

The shortage of powerful mages in the Empire is a problem that is never actually addressed (by the characters, not by the authors, mind). I’m getting slightly ahead of myself, but the loss of virtually the entire Imperial Mage Cadre with Tayschrenn’s disappearance later down the book & Quick Ben deserting to join the Fourteenth in Kolanse essentially destroyed any hopes of rebuilding a cadre worthy of the days of the old Emperor – with Tattersail, A’Karonys, Nightchill, Bellurdan, Tayschrenn, etc.

So, aye, it’s bloody dire. Moving on to the happenings of the Empire.

[…]

‘It is going as well as can be hoped given how hamstrung we are. We've lost most of our resources across the continent. Entire regiments have fallen back to their roots and come out as Itko Kanese or Grisan. Ugly rumours of ethnic slaughters accompany those reports. Armouries have been confiscated; ships impounded. The shortage of competent mages means communication by the old ways of road and sea. It's a damned mess.

[…]

‘Their goal?’ Laseen prompted.

Korbolo Dom could contain himself no longer. ‘Their goal? Destroy us, of course! Empress, with all due respect, I suggest you leave such matters to your military commanders. We will settle strategy.’

‘First Sword!’ Laseen snapped, almost cutting the air between them. ‘You are here to advise. And I must remind you that since you possess the title of First Sword of the Empire, you thus command only in the field. Dassem himself deferred to others in matters of strategy.’”

“The Empire's new High Mage steepled her fingers at her broad chest. ‘Empress, if there is any consolation to be gained from the thinning of our mage corps, it is that this sad state extends to our enemies as well. My compatriots and I are of the opinion that no mage of any stature can be fielded by them. Regrettably, they can say the same of us. That is, unless …’

Laseen's lips tightened white. ‘He is not to be counted on.’”

“And on the subject – where is the Imperial Navy? Where is Admiral Nok? Why does he not simply land in Quon harbour, take the city?’

It seemed to Possum that Laseen met this outburst with amazing equanimity. She clasped her hands behind her back, as if mistrusting what she might be tempted to do. She cocked her head to Anand without taking her hooded gaze from Korbolo Dom. ‘Why would that be, High Fist?’

‘Because this Duchess would simply turn around, retake her city, and we'd be back to square one.’

‘Then Admiral Nok should—’

‘Enough!’

[…]

‘We are on our own, Sword of the Empire,’ Laseen said, her tone final. ‘My commands to Nok cannot be countered. I have given over to him maintenance of our overseas holdings. He is fully committed with the logistics of supply, troop transport, relief and reinforcement. Expect no succour. We must win back the continent, or be destroyed in the attempt.’”

Phew. That was… powerful.

The situation is quite dire but Laseen seems to be ready to step up to the task. Moreover, she schools Korbolo on the matter of military strategy; displaying keen awareness of the latter’s incompetence & bloodlust and his desire for… well, shall we say, glory at the expense of the Empire.

Let’s go over the resources of the Empire at present, one more time.

I’ve already made a list about the whereabouts of the Malazan Armies at the time of the Bonehunters, but needless to say the same applies here. The only loyalist standing army in Quon Tali as of now is the Malaz 4th Army. The Imperial Mage Cadre is close to non-existent, with the only “High Mage” worthy of the title being Havva & the rest of the mages scattered across different squads (like Heuk, for example).

Furthermore, the Claw has been infiltrated and their loyalty is less than assured. There are no guarantees as to whom might – or might not – fight for the Empress or for Mallick. A lot of Possum’s story in this book is rooting out the rot within the Claw, with whole Hands being infiltrated (see Coil).

Moreover, Topper is “gone” & the entire Imperial Warren is off bounds for use. Anyone who gets caught using it without the proper authority gets promptly taken out by Ragman.

Lastly, Tayschrenn doesn’t seem particularly eager to engage … at all. He’s kinda… there. That’s kinda it.

Thus, Laseen has to improvise. And improvise she does – swiftly, decisively, with vicious efficiency.

“‘For now, as our military hierarchy suggests – gather forces. I want Unta province back under our control. I want those nobles back in the capital with their forces.’ Her gaze swung to Possum. ‘Clawmaster, take family members hostage to ensure cooperation, starting tonight.’

Possum smiled his acknowledgement.

‘In one sense time is now on our side. Theirs is an uneasy alliance of new rulers jealous of their independence. If we can hold out long enough it will unravel. We will do all we can to help that process along. Havva, Possum, send out missives to all your contacts arguing that Tali intends to reassert its old hegemony. Make overtures to Dal Hon. Send messages to the Bloorian nobles that the Gris have been promised their lands. Begin a campaign of mutual suspicion and disinformation that will leave them unable to recognize the truth.’

The High Mage and the Clawmaster bowed.

‘And Clawmaster,’ Laseen continued, ‘general intelligence?’

Possum shrugged dismissively. ‘The streets are awash in rumours, of course. But nothing worthy of following. One persistent story does seem to be gathering strength despite its improbability. There's talk of the Crimson Guard's return.’

Anand barked a laugh. ‘Every year they're supposed to show up. Those old tales resurface any time morale is low. They're like a dose of the clap. We never seem able to shake them off entirely.’

Laseen smiled thinly. ‘Then let us hope they do oblige us, High Fist. It will give us a chance to finally rid ourselves of them.’

‘You're so certain?’ This from Havva.

‘Yes. They'd be fools to come back, and K'azz was no fool.’

[…]

‘Your silence tells me all I need to know, Possum.’ She glanced back, sidelong. ‘You stand distant, close by the door. Am I that terrifying a tyrant?’

[…]

‘Names, Clawmaster.’

Possum cleared his throat, tried to speak, found his mouth too dry. He wondered distantly at this: fear for himself? Or pity for the pain he must convey? ‘Amaron,’ he managed. Toc the Elder, Choss and … Urko.’

‘So – Toc. He is this Seti warlord, is he not?’

‘Yes.’

‘Yet Anand does not know.’

‘No. Very few are aware – bad for morale, yes?’

Silence. A back so tense Possum imagined it incapable of flexing. Watching her standing there all alone taking this news of the betrayal of so many old companions, Possum settled on pity.

‘Leave me,’ she said, her voice still under ruthless control.

Possum bowed and exited pulling the door tight behind him. To the guards outside he said, ‘The Empress does not wish to be disturbed.’”

Phew.

Lots of things to unpack here – again. Let’s get to it.

First of all, something I didn’t mention earlier but something that does tie in to Laseen’s change of character – the way she all but schools the First Sword. I cannot find the exact quote, but at some point either Surly or Tavore claim that the Empire has abandoned the role of First Sword, due to it being “too expensive & too vulnerable”.

Further, see how she treats Dassem Ultor & his “advice” in an earlier excerpt:

“So, if Dassem Ultor was sitting here right now, instead of me—tell me, Kalam, do you think he would have let you get this close? Do you think he would have sought to reason with you?”

Yet here, she reminds Korbolo Dom of Malazan military doctrine – Dassem’s doctrine. From an excerpt from L’oric – of all people – in House of Chains:

“Dassem Ultor’s original doctrine, when he was finally made First Sword of the Malazan Empire. ‘Strategy belongs to the commander, but tactics are the first field of battle, and it is fought in the command tent.’ Dassem’s own words. Of course, such a system relied heavily upon capable officers. Incompetent officers – such as those that subsequently infiltrated the chain of (command)-”

“Nobleborn officers, you mean.”

“Bluntly, yes. The purchashing of commissions – Dassem would never have permitted that, and from what I gather, nor does the Empress. Not any more, in any case. There was a cull-“

This sort of doctrine is clearly lost on Korbolo, as shown from his numerous defeats during the Chain of Dogs, his lust for blood & carnage, and his desire to usurp absolute military command numerous times. Not an awful political plan, of course – shame that Laseen outranks him in every matter & she’s not stupid enough to relinquish military command to someone as treacherous as Korbolo.

When Laseen sets aside past rivalries & pettiness, she’s a force to be reckoned with.

Her methods are crude – kidnappings of families by the Claw, campaigns of disinformation, the aforementioned Cull of the nobility in Deadhouse Gates – but effective. And, when the entire continent is up in arms & your core organization has been infiltrated, you’ve little choice. Laseen makes the best of a shit situation, and it works out wonderfully.

I’m fairly sure she’s quite aware of the possibility of the Crimson Guard returning, and – just like Possum refused to reveal the names of Toc, Amaron & co. to Surly & the rest of the Assembly for morale reasons – she doesn’t let on the fact that she knows, for fear of reducing morale.

At any rate, though, she has far more pressing matters in her hands, and these ought to take precedent over any potential rumour of a century-old “sworn enemy” of the Empire that is rumoured to return every year. When Hannibal was at the gates of Rome, I’m quite sure the Romans weren’t overly concerned with possible raids from Gallic tribes to the north or a potential invasion from the southern city states, even if it was a possibility.

Also, this quote:

‘Your silence tells me all I need to know, Possum.’ She glanced back, sidelong. ‘You stand distant, close by the door. Am I that terrifying a tyrant?’ hurts my soul. Possum has been with Laseen since at least Y’Ghatan, where he took a knife from Dassem for his efforts. He’s the incumbent Clawmaster since Pearl’s death, and the Claw has certain… affections, for Laseen, shall we say. He’s an odd fellow, but his loyalty is beyond reproach, which is more than you can say for a lot of others.

With great anguish & care, Possum grounds out the names. Each name strikes Laseen like a fist to the chest – past companions, members of Kellanved’s Family, Old Guardsmen; people she has regarded as friends, family, even her countrymen – Amaron, Urko & Choss are all Napans. It must hurt a lot more than she gives off, one can imagine.

But, what choice does she have? Bow down & watch the Empire she killed two of her closest companions for burn to the ground? Surly won’t stand for this, I’m afraid.

A considerable amount of time later, we get the preparations for the Battle of the Plains. Toc & his Seti skirmishers, Urko, V’thell and Ullen with the Talian regulars & Gold Moranth, etc.

“‘That horde of skirmishers must be contained and swept aside,’ Toc told Imotan, who nodded, stroking his grey-shot beard. ‘Our intelligence tells us Laseen hasn't the cavalry to oppose you.’

‘So you say. Yet if that is true then why is she here?’

Toc's brows rose at the question. ‘Well, I suppose I would have to say that she has no choice. She has to oppose us – to do otherwise would be to admit defeat. And that is hardly in her nature.’

‘Is she counting on some hidden asset to deliver her? What of the Kanese?’

Toc shook his head. ‘I don't believe they'll cross. A lot to lose and too little to gain.’

‘They could gain much by arriving in time to deliver her …’

‘Imotan,’ Toc said, gesturing to the battle grounds, ‘once it looks as if she will lose they will throw in with us. If she wins, her rule will be absolute. No one will rise to oppose her for a generation.’”

Words of warning, perhaps? Foreshadowing? No matter. If Surly succeeds in winning the Battle of the Plains and defeating the Crimson Guard, the only theatre still open to threaten the Empire is Korel & the Wickans, and Korelri is hardly a threat. More so a renegade band of Malazans causing trouble an entire continent away. The Wickans, on the other hand, can be dealt with & vindicated, since Mallick can quite easily be removed from power, the bloodlust of the mob directed towards him, and… agh. There would be peace for the Wickans, and farmland for the Empire.

Alas.

Again – later – the Seti abandon Toc the Elder to try & take Li Heng on their own. Toc rides after them & is betrayed by them, and they leave him to die on the plains before Moss finds him.

“The captain was studying him. The scar across his face was a livid, healing red. Sighing, Moss sat, plucked a blade of grass and chewed it. Slow dawning realization brought a rueful grin to Toc's lips. ‘But … you're not going to try.’

‘No, sir.’

Toc laughed, convulsing, and coughed. Wetness warmed his lips. He touched it, examined his bloody fingers. ‘So. She sent you, did she? I thought the Claw was compromised.’

‘I'm freelance. I sometimes tie up loose ends for her.’ Moss looked away, scanned the horizons. After a moment, he said, ‘I've come to admire you – I really have. I want you to know that. I'm sorry.’ He shifted his sitting position, checked the grounds behind him. ‘She wants you to know that she's sorry too. So long as you kept away she was willing to look the other way. But this …’ he shook his head, took out the blade of grass, studied it and flicked it aside.”

Did it have to come to this, Toc?

Did you have to betray the Empire, rise up in open revolt?

In his mind, yes, he probably did. And I’m sure Surly would understand, for once upon a time – she did the same. But loose ends must be tied up; a friendship terminated, a life… ended.

I don’t think Moss is lying here. Toc died for what he believed in, and Laseen wasn’t one to criticize or damn people for doing that. Moreover, if he had to die – it’s better that he dies like this, here, out in the plains where he spent most of his life, than spend the rest of his days in a cold Untan cell, awaiting the day of his public execution.

Did I mention that betrayals come to bite Surly in the ass in this book? Aye, here’s more.

“An intuition whispered to Ullen and he inclined his head, ‘You are this Wildman of the Plains?’

‘I am. And I am come to offer a measure of restitution, Malazan, for my countrymen's betrayal.’

‘That is?’

‘We will ride against the Imperial cavalry – just the cavalry and only them! What say you?’

[…]

Thank you, whoever you are. And thank whatever old grudge it is that drives you to lend a hand.”

Now, if you’ve not read this book yet, I’ve already spoiled virtually all of it anyway, so no worries. But here’s another spoiler.

The “Wildman of the Plains” is a Seti warrior that – once – went by the name of Ferrule. If you don’t know what a “ferrule” is, here you go:

“The ferrule or furelles are the ring or cap found on some sword hilts that cap the two ends of the grip.”

It’s thematic for the members of Dassem’s First Sword to take the names of different parts of a sword – Point, Temper, Ferrule, etc. – and thus, one of the two characters from Dassem’s First Sword that we get to see in action in Night of Knives (the other being Temper, which also appears in this book) is back for vengeance against Surly.

Karma’s a bitch.

Roughly at the same time, Possum is out hunting for renegade Claws, and happens upon Taya Radok, Mallick’s chosen assassin. This isn’t particularly important, but it helps to showcase just how dire the situation is for Laseen, and how she manages to clutch things out from thin air.

“Possum edged up and down slightly on his toes to keep his legs limber, ran his fingers along the pommels of the knives slipped up his sleeves. Come back, little lady. Who are you? But more importantly – who do you work for?

[…]

He pushed aside the tent flap, his Warren dancing on the tips of his fingers, both blades raised, faced where she had been sitting and a hand clasped itself at his neck like the bite of a hound and pushed him to the dirt floor. Face jammed into the dirt he slashed, kicking. He raised his Warren once again but the hand clenched even impossibly tighter, grating the vertebrae of his neck. Such strength! Inhuman! A woman's voice breathed in his ear: ‘Don't.’

He recognized that voice. He'd heard it before the day of the attack of the Guard. This was the second time this girl-woman had got the better of him. He let his Warren slip away. ‘Good.’ She yanked the blades from his hands as if he were a child, dug one against the side of his neck. ‘Now,’ she whispered, so close her breath felt damp. ‘What should I do with you? By that I don't mean let you go … oh, no. What I mean is – how shall I kill you? I will let you choose. Do you want me to push this blade up under your chin or into your eye? Shall I ease it through your ribs into your heart?’ She crouched even lower so that her lips touched his ear. ‘Tell me what you want,’ she breathed huskily.

Despite the stark certain knowledge that he was about to die a lustful rush for this girl-woman murderess possessed him. He wanted her more than he could express.”

Uh. Right.

We’ll ignore that & carry on. Regardless – Possum almost died twice already to either protect Surly or on her orders. Many more will come, worry not.

After the subsequent defeat & capitulation of the Talian League – because Korbolo Dom is an asshole – we’re shown the following scene, of the Talian regulars being locked outside the camp’s gates, while the man-jackal Ryllandaras rampages through their ranks.

Contrast Korbolo’s bloodthirst with Laseen’s calm disposition, for a bit.

“He knelt on his haunches before his commander. The chill rain slapped against his back. ‘General – the men are being kept outside the compound.’

Urko slowly raised his head. ‘What?’

‘All the Talian regulars. They're being kept out.’

‘What?’ Urko lurched up, peered into the slanting mist of rain. He crossed to the wall of stakes, grasped hold and shouted to a guard, ‘Get me your commander! Right now!’

‘No need for that,’ a voice answered from the thin rain. A dark shape approached flanked by guards. Squinting, Ullen made out the bulky armoured figure of Korbolo Dom. ‘Urko and Cartharon Crust,’ the man called, stopping at the wall of stakes. ‘Amaron, Grinner, Nok, Surly … Do you have any idea what it was like to grow up on Nap in the wake of such names?’

‘Fener can shit on that! My men are outside the compound with that monster on the loose – on whose orders?’

‘Mine.’

‘You!’ A stake shattered in Urko's fist.

‘Kill me and your men will surely die!’

Urko subsided, his shoulders twitching beneath his padded gambeson.

‘Anonymity,’ Korbolo continued. ‘You doomed us all to anonymity. Can you think of the name of any Napan of the last generations?’

‘There's my grand-nephew Tolip.’

‘Well, a new name has finally eclipsed yours. All the mouths on the island and in the Empire will finally be speaking that new name – Korbolo Dom – Sword of the Empire. And it is only right and proper that a fellow Napan has finally defeated you.’

‘I'd say it was just Oponn's decision. The fortunes of war. Listen, let the men in … I'll guarantee their cooperation.’

‘The loser would invoke fortune, wouldn't he?’

‘And the winner wouldn't, would he?’ Urko hunched his shoulders, biting down anything more. He finally asked, ‘What do you want from me?’

Korbolo straightened, adjusted his layered cloaks against the rain. ‘I have what I have always wanted. Look at you, squatting in the mud like an animal. You are defeated, squalid. I need not even attend your execution in Unta – you are already dead to me.’

[…]

There’s nothing – nothing – to gain by letting Urko’s soldiers die outside of the walls of the encampment. The only thing sated by this is Korbolo’s bloodlust, at the expense of the Talian regulars (obviously – they’re dying out there) and the Empire as a whole.

Laseen steps in to strike a deal with Urko – and the two of them meet once more, after Urko’s presumed death almost fifteen years ago.

“Ullen had not seen her in decades but she looked exactly as when he had last set eyes upon her. Surly – Laseen. So small and unprepossessing! Yet all those around were unable to ignore her presence; even the captive Talian officers found themselves drawn to stand in respect. She acknowledged their gesture with a slight nod. Urko, however, refused to look up. She simply waited, clasped her hands at her back. After a time Urko finally glanced up, then away, and kept his face averted.

‘I expected better of you than this, Surly,’ he grated.

‘I've come with a request, Urko,’ she said. He pushed himself awkwardly to his feet.

‘A request? You come with a request of me? Well, it just so happens I have one for you.’

‘Yes. Strange, that. I would speak with you and V'thell.’

At the mention of his name the Gold commander bowed. His right arm and side were a weeping, gouged and mangled mess.

‘I would want their cooperation. Urko. V'thell.’

‘You'll have it,’ Urko swore. V'thell bowed again.

‘I will still have to keep you and the officers as guarantors …’

‘We understand,’ V'thell said.

‘Very well.’ She signed to a guard.

‘What of Korbolo?’ Urko asked.

‘He is not your concern.’

That statement, delivered with such assurance and command, struck Ullen as a true note of Imperial rule and it must have echoed similarly with Urko as well for he straightened, giving a small nod of his head, with a look of something like surprised wonder on his craggy, rain-spattered face.”

I don’t have very much to add to this scene. Surly walks in & owns the place, in spite of her appearance & “unprepossessing” disposition. She treats her captives with some measure of dignity – certainly more than Korbolo afforded them – and doesn’t sneer at them; rather, to her, they’re all useful assets to the Empire, rather than just more lives to add to the long running tally, more names to be added to the List of the Fallen.

 This is a rather cynical way to view people, granted – but certainly no worse than the alternative, I think.

However, old wounds have been allowed – for too long – to fester, and Surly’s lack of trust shows. Justifiably – she’s treating with rebellion leaders here, not her underlings – but, still, rather cynical.

“It was the worst engagement of Ullen's life though he himself was in no danger. Men and women, his soldiers, pulled themselves by their clawed hands up the mud-filled trench they'd just worked to dig. They threw themselves three, four, five deep against the crossed spikes and makeshift palisade of timbers and logs, begging for weapons, for mercy, for everyone inside to die miserable deaths. Soldiers at the barricade pushed them back with spears, poleaxes and lances. And he and Urko could do nothing. Guarded, they'd been marched close to wagons where Imperial soldiers tossed swords and shields out over the barricade to the clamouring horde beyond. Swords and shields only, no armour or bows or crossbows. Nearby stood Laseen, surrounded by her guards, making it clear what authority lay behind this relief – if delayed.

Out in the darkness beyond the reach of the compound torches, the maneater, Ryllandaras, roared and slaughtered. His explosive bellowing shook the boards of the wagons, vibrated the mud upon which they stood. Ullen caught fleeting glimpses of a huge grey shape, astonishingly fast. But the Talians and the Gold fought. Weapons were passed along or thrown further across the press to the front where new hands carried them against the beast, or picked them up from dead ones.

Fists at his head, Urko spun to Laseen, pleading, ‘For the love of Burn, allow a sortie!’

‘What would stop your men from attacking them, pillaging their arms and armour and fleeing? Or attacking?’

‘My word! My bond!’ The Empress's gaze snapped to Urko.

‘You pledge to me?’

‘Yes!’

Stepping closer, she said, her voice so low Ullen barely heard, ‘You did before.’

‘I—’ the man's stricken gaze was pulled inexorably to the tumult outside, the shrieks and the cries of the wounded. ‘Please – for the men! Yes, I pledge!’

‘Your life? Obedience?’

‘Yes! I swear.’

Laseen's face betrayed no emotion, though the lines bracketing her thin mouth were severe. This was the only hint of her passion Ullen could see. ‘Very well, Urko. I accept.’ She turned to the captain of the guard detachment with her. ‘Send Fist D'Ebbin with a hundred heavy infantry.’

The clash of a salute. ‘Aye.’

‘I was to lead!’ Urko called.

‘I did not agree to that,’ Laseen snapped. ‘Did I?’

Urko's jaws worked as he ground through all that he might say. Finally, he admitted, reluctantly, ‘No.’

‘Now go speak to them, Urko.’

A slow salute. ‘Aye.’

Laseen nodded to the guards who allowed him to pass. A cavalry detachment rode up led by Korbolo Dom. He took in the wagons, the weapon distribution, and shook his head. ‘It will do no good.’

‘Nevertheless,’ Laseen said.

‘A useless gesture. I go now to collect its head!’ And he pulled on his helmet, kicked his mount forward, his troop following.

‘Oponn go with you,’ the Empress called after him.

Ullen turned to V'thell, who had not turned away from the barricade the entire time. ‘Still they fight,’ the Moranth commander said, musing. ‘Despite everything. They know it is their only hope.’ ‘They could run.’ ‘No. Your hapless civilians might but your soldiers know their strength resides in the unit. The group. Your soldiers are like us Moranth in this regard. It is one of the reasons we allied.’

Ullen was struck by the amazing things one learned at unlooked-for times. ‘I didn't know.’

V'thell's helmed head cocked aside. ‘Very few do, I imagine.’

At the barricade Urko was bellowing: ‘I have begged the Empress for a sortie and she has agreed! Relief is coming! Imperial infantry! They come to defend you and to fight at your side! Honour that! Do you hear me! Honour that!’”

Right.

It takes a cold, cold heart to watch these men & women outside die and hear the pleas of the rebel commander and do nothing.

Surly’s heart isn’t that cold. It comes pretty close, though.

Now, “a hundred soldiers” doesn’t sound like much until you remember that what’s actually out there is one Soletaken. All that is required of the soldiers is to hold a pike square & Ryllandaras can’t do overmuch.

Korbolo – the dumbass – of course tries to ride in for glory. How I wish he got himself killed right then & there.

Regardless, Surly has other plans for Urko – the Guard landed in Unta a few days prior to the Battle of the Plains and the capital had to be abandoned posthaste. The Guardsmen are, even now, marching towards the Hengian Plains to finish off the main Malazan force.

Obviously, the Malaz 4th can’t hold the Avowed back – it’s just not particularly possible. So, Laseen needs Urko, V’thell, Ullen, etc.

“Urko returned, directed a salute behind Ullen, who turned, startled; Laseen had remained through it all. ‘I still wish I'd led that sortie,’ he growled.

‘I still need you.’

His brows knotted, his eyes slitted almost closed. ‘The Guard.’

Laseen nodded her assent.

The damp flesh of Ullen's arms prickled with a chill. Gods, the Guard! She anticipates an attack. But why? For who? They have no sponsors. The Talian League has been crushed. Defeating this army, even killing Laseen, would not destroy the Empire. The times cannot be reversed to how they were before the consolidation. What possible purpose could it all serve? But then, by that measure, what purpose did today's battle serve? He pressed a hand to his slick forehead, took a long slow breath. Stop it! I am so tired. My thoughts turn darker and darker.

Ullen jerked as the unmistakable reports of bursting Moranth munitions echoed from somewhere out on the plain. His first reaction was to turn to V'thell who was nodding his helmed head. ‘Excellent,’ V'thell said. ‘Knowing he would come allowed the opportunity for ambush.’ He bowed his admiration to Laseen.

Urko now also turned to the Empress. The old commander's surprise was obvious. ‘Hood's Gate, Surl – Laseen. Seems we've done nothing but underestimate you.’

‘So have a great many others …’ she answered absently. Her dark eyes glittered as she studied the night. ‘I wish I could take credit but I cannot.‘ She motioned to a member of her staff. ‘Find out who that is.’ The woman saluted and ran to a horse. ‘And now,’ she said, ‘I suggest we try to get some sleep before dawn. Urko, V'thell, you may speak with your soldiers but only through the barricade. Until tomorrow.’”

“Seems we’ve done nothing but underestimate you.”

Aye, you can say that one again. Not much to add here either – only that Surly is surprisingly capable in every aspect of ruling when you know who isn’t actively trying to bring her & her Empire down.

More old friends betraying Laseen & dying, anyone?

“Lieutenant-commander Ullen's brigades had already marched, but he rode with his aides to the battlefield where a detail was piling corpses for burning. The bonfire nearest the compound contained wounded who had succumbed since the engagement. And among these was the body of Commander Choss, once High Fist under Laseen.”

Choss is, like I said earlier, a Napan Fist, and by all accounts far, far more competent than the likes of Pormqual or Korbolo were. His loss is another big hit to Laseen’s Empire.

Later, Possum happens upon the Imperial Pavilion, a trap devised by Surly to lure in & kill enemy demons and mages that Cowl’s Veils are wont to use. Notice how many contingencies she’s built upon it – otataral dust & skill alone would probably be enough to tackle any mage-assassin (like Cowl, later) but Laseen leaves no room for error. Later, we even see the aftermath of the Battle of the Plains & Esselmont goes a great length in showcasing how utterly pointless it is.

“Pure Laseen. Vicious and efficient. A floor dusted in Otataral and she in the centre. The dust negates the magics of any entering, levelling the field. As to the fight that followed, well, she had been mistress of the Claw after all. And the pavilion's thick cloth walls disguised the fates of all who entered from those who waited without. How many have fallen within? Five? Ten? And by dawn how many? How many would Cowl send before entering himself? And when he did … the vaunted Avowed High Mage would find himself crippled – as would that mystery female mage who'd got the drop on him before. Yet Cowl duelled Dancer in his time. It was a pairing he’d almost step within to watch.

Almost.

It appeared that for the meantime Laseen had things well in hand. Perhaps there was time for a tour of the field fishing for targets of opportunity. Yes, perhaps so. And he ought to gather a feel for the engagement – in case the situation was such that discreet withdrawal was called for. Warren raised, half within natural shadow and half within Meanas, Possum jogged unchallenged on to the field.

What he found appalled him. Never had he witnessed such indiscriminate slaughter. Hanging curtains of Mockra drifted about, perhaps bringing to those it covered a crushing demoralization, or certitude of defeat. Thyr induced walls of flames stalked the already burnt embers of the ravaged grassland. Skirmishers huddled in defensive knots firing on all who approached. Malazan regulars were digging in, forming shieldwalls against attack from roving bands of Crimson Guardsmen. Smoke wreathed all amid the dark. As far as he could make out things had descended into little more than chaos, murder and mayhem in which anything that moved was a target.”

Indiscriminate, pointless carnage. And for what? A Vow made a century ago, that cannot be voided unless the Malazan Empire is destroyed; but even “destroying” Laseen here won’t change that. The Empire will still stand. What is this madness for? The answer is “Skinner’s an asshole”, but that’s a story for another time.

On another part of the battlefield, Moss returns to the field & Ullen despairs at how impossible their fight against the Avowed truly is.

“‘The Empress sends her compliments,’ said a new voice and Ullen turned, surprised – and pleased – to see the scarred figure of Captain Moss. He extended his left hand and they shook, awkwardly. ‘I have been seconded to your staff.’

‘You are most welcome.’

‘She bade me inform you that you have her fullest confidence. She commends your actions as field-commander.’

Ullen's brows rose. Just what the Imperials on his staff needed to hear. Thank you, Moss. He cleared his throat into his left fist again. ‘Very good, Captain.’ He turned to his people. ‘What of the Kanese?’

‘They have attacked but Avowed still hold the bridge,’ said one.

‘How many?’ ‘Reports are,’ and the fellow swallowed, his voice failing, ‘… five.’

‘Five? Five Avowed against twenty thousand?’

‘Ah, yes, sir.’

Hood – are you pleased? What a ferocious confrontation! He didn't envy the Kanese the effort it would take to lever the Avowed from that narrow pass. And how many did they face - thirty? Forty? No, don't go there! Avoid the scenarios of despair. At least these are in the open. These can be cut down from afar.

‘The Kanese will break through soon enough,’ he said. ‘We just have to hold on.’

At least a few of his staff mustered the effort to murmur, ‘Yes, sir.’”

I will note that Moss isn’t the most trustworthy fellow in the universe, with perhaps his own agendas, but I still don’t think he’s lying here. Ullen even gets – posthumously – complimented by Dassem fucking Ultor as one of the best commanders the Empire had. I don’t think Laseen is blind to this.

No matter. The Avowed will be pushed back. The secessionists have been defeated, with Ghelel on the run. Gris, Bloor, Dal Hon, Quon, Tali, Heng, Falar – all will be brought back to the fold, under the rule of Empress Laseen. Wick will be pacified & deals brokered, with their honour restituted. Farmland will be acquired.

But, of course, not all good things can last. If only…

“His haunting the field, scanning in turn through Meanas then Mockra, paid off when Possum sensed his quarry to the north-west. Moving quickly through Shadow he arrived on the darkened slope to see Coil bent over still forms lying twisted in the grass – a full Claw Hand. Damn the woman! They need all their strength and here she is eliminating rivals! That is more than enough justification … Drawing his blades he launched himself forward through Shadow. Just as he arrived her own senses moved her to twist, but not quite quickly enough to avoid the thrusting iron as it entered through her ribs in the back and front, puncturing lung and pricking her heart. He wriggled the knives, lacerating the organs to make sure of it.

Coil stared back at him, stunned, horrified, eyes full of the knowledge of her own coming death. ‘You fool …’ she breathed. He thought nothing of such death-babblings. Strange things are said as life flees. Curses, claims to innocence, innermost longings. ‘These … Mallick's … I was all that stood between them … and her.’ Possum withdrew the blades, straightening. What? Life dimmed in the woman's dark eyes and she fell. She smiled, her teeth red with blood. ‘Chance,’ she gasped, chuckling ruefully. ‘Chance …’ Her shape writhed, blurring, changing. Possum recognized artistry of high Mockra – and that far greater than his – until the body resolved itself clearly once more for him to see lying at his feet the fat messy form of High Mage Havva Gulen. Soliel forgive him! What had he done? Why hadn't she told him? Told anyone? Because – fool! – she was running her own game just as he. Now what? First, go! Let the fog of war obscure all. He raised his Warren and stepped into Shadow—

To be hammered down by a blunt blow to his side.”

Possum, in his zeal, tracks down & stabs the last remaining High Mage. Mallick’s Claws are now mostly free to wander, find & assassinate Laseen, the last mage of the cadre (save Tayschrenn) is dead, and Possum gets promptly incapacitated by Edgewalker (in a rather hilarious exchange, actually).

Possum’s streak of bad luck will not end as the world unfolds before him, and he now starts to resemble Pearl from the Bonehunters a lot more. A man who’s lost everything going on a rampage to “cleanse” what’s left of his perceived rivals. We know – with the gift of hindsight – that Surly isn’t in the pavilion, but Possum doesn’t.

Miscommunication & mistrust have come to bite the Empire in the backside once more. Poetic justice.

“Just then from the north a brilliant yellow-orange light illuminated the darkness – the Imperial pavilion bursting aflame. It pushed back the night for a half-league all around. The flames climbed like those of an immense bonfire, a celebration of light and vitality, if short-lived. Possum stared, his arms falling to his sides. Oh, Cowl! Master-stroke! So much for such careful preparations and precautions! I bow before your unbending ruthlessness.

What now for poor Possum? Imperial forces routed, the pavilion aflame, and he himself assassin of the Imperial High Mage. What could possibly be left? Was not all lost? A giddy, almost fey mood took him and he laughed aloud. He felt like dancing amid the dead. His anxious oh-so-important worries of rivals amid the order? Utterly irrelevant! A lifetime of scheming, positioning, manipulating? A life wasted! His own ambitions, hopes, dreams? Completely thwarted!

He walked down on to the field between the fallen, laughing aloud. Come Cowl! Come Lacy, Tarkhan or Isha! Let us put an end to the comic tragedy!”

Cowl, Lacy, Tarkhan & Isha are all Crimson Guard assassins and members of Cowl’s Veils, fyi. Possum’s descent into madness begins – and ends only after he falls unconscious… Ugh. I hate this part. I don’t want to read further. Please.

Shimmer & her Blade are set upon by a few Hands of Mallick’s Claw, and she makes short work of them before she runs out of momentum & is almost felled by the two remaining Claws. But, Surly to the rescue!

“Then another jumped among them, kicking, rolling, and they rocked backwards to fall, immobile, felled by blows of feet and hands. This new figure strode up to her – female, slim and wiry, wrapped head to foot in dark cloth strips. Those strips wet with blood at her feet and torn away from her bloodied hands by the ferocity of her blows. Shimmer inclined her head in greeting. ‘I could have handled them.’

‘Perhaps.’ Only dark, calculating eyes were visible in her face and these shifted away. She raised her chin to the retreating Guardsmen. ‘You are withdrawing.’

‘Yes.’

‘Then go with my permission and never return to these lands.’

Shimmer's brows rose. ‘And you are?’

The female Claw ignored the question.

Another Claw came running out of the dark, this one a man with a pinched rat's face, dark mussed hair and an unsettling crazy grin. Shimmer recognized him from briefings on the Claw – Possum, Clawmaster. He crouched behind the woman as if guarding her back. The Master of the Claws following around a woman like a pet dog? Then this must be … Shimmer froze in shock. Gods! It's her! Of course, Mistress of the Claw, once rival of Dancer himself!

[…]

Unconcerned, the woman motioned aside, to the east. ‘And those?’

Shimmer knew who she meant. ‘Disavowed. Disgraced. Stricken from our ranks.’

‘I see. May I ask the reason for this falling out?’

She doesn't know! ‘Skinner exceeded his authority.’ All too true.

‘How depressingly familiar …’ Musing, still gazing away, the woman – Laseen in truth? – spoke. ‘Very well. We are done here. Go! Return and you will be hunted down and slain. Accepted?’

Shimmer offered a shallow bow. ‘Accepted.’

The woman turned away, paused before the Clawmaster, who bowed profoundly on one knee. ‘Come, Possum. We have much to discuss – now.’ And she walked off into the dark, and, after a courtly mocking bow – that grin, unbalanced – Possum followed.”

Surly brokers a deal with the Guardsmen – essentially securing a long and lasting peace between the two sides. The Vow cannot be fulfilled regardless, and K’azz has much more to answer for to his own veterans. No more Avowed deserve to die (heh) for an unattainable dream, and both sides know this.

“How depressingly familiar”, though… Youch. Looking at you, sir Mallick. Bastard.

Later, a group of Wickans have come by Warren under the command of Rillish, an Untan Noble, and Nil & Nether, the two Wickan warlock twins. Korbolo’s assholery has no bounds, I swear.

“‘Who commands?’ one shouted – an old veteran. In fact, they all looked like hard-travelled veterans.

‘Sword of the Empire,’ came the answering shout. ‘Korbolo Dom.’

The Wickans gaped, motionless, then hands went to sheathed longknives and other weapons. Wickan curses sounded. ‘What name was that?’ the old spokesman asked again as if unbelieving.

‘Mine!’ Korbolo came walking up from the column. ‘What news?’

The grey-haired old veteran rested his forearms on the pommel of his high saddle and studied the man with something akin to amazement. Finally, after a time, he shook his head and spat aside as if to ease his mouth of a sour taste. ‘You are bold and brave, I give you that. How does it feel, murderer, to be in our debt?’

Korbolo appeared supremely untroubled. ‘I am in no one's debt. I am the Sword of the Empire – I command all Imperial forces.’

‘Well for us, then, that according to your own Empress, we are not Imperial forces. Yet you owe your victory to us. I wonder, then, what recompense the Throne might offer to repay such a debt, yes?’

The Sword's smile of self-assurance was almost a smirk. ‘Such matters are for the Empress to judge.’

‘Indeed. And she and the army all bore witness to what happened this night.’ The Wickan sawed his reins around and the troop stormed off.”

Again – not much to do with Laseen, I just really don’t like Korbolo or Mallick. At all. One whit. Fuck these guys.

I do staunchly believe that Laseen, given the opportunity, would vindicate the Wickans – and I think both Mallick & Korbolo know this as well. Thus, Surly cannot survive the upcoming engagements.

Ai, ai, gods below…

Then, the reveal that Surly actually was the one that authorized the closing off of the Imperial Warren by Topper – a preemptive measure put in place since before the Bonehunters, warding off the warren from use by Mallick’s Claw. Even when cornered, Surly had a plan to fall back on.

“‘How to approach?’ asked the young male twin, Nil.

‘You will need the element of surprise,’ said a new voice from nearby. Everyone turned. There stood a slim fellow in dark clothes, a smirk on his narrow, pinched face. Shimmer raised a hand to forestall any action.

‘Possum. What word?’

‘For such a purpose I am empowered to offer Imperial cooperation.’

‘Such as?’ Smoky asked, his voice acid.

‘Passage through the Imperial Warren.’

‘That Warren is a death-trap,’ said Gwynn.

The smirk returned: ‘Only for those not authorized to access it.’

Heads among the mages turned, eyes narrowing. ‘Laseen …’ Smoky breathed.

The Claw sketched a courtly bow. ‘I am only a humble messenger.”

I really, really, really don’t like the next bit.

Tayschrenn disappears in a whorl created by a mad mage, Yathengar, which leads to somewhere in Chaos.

Leaving, well, only Surly. Laseen, Thronemaster, an Empress that built a throne through sheer will to rule for the betterment of the Empire. Facing numerous hardships, her rule & authority challenged, deaths and betrayals, she’s – finally – the only remaining, living, claimant to the Throne.

“’ She came to the edge of the crater blasted from the plain and there she stopped. Smoke still threaded from the blackened bare dirt after its astounding explosion. She raised her face to peer up for a time into the clear, so deceptively peaceful, pale-blue sky and suddenly Possum understood. Ah, yes. The last. With Tayschrenn now gone. Choss dead, Toc reported dead, Amaron missing, and Urko reported fled before he could be arrested, or, perhaps, pardoned. Leaving Surly/Laseen. The last survivor; single remaining representative of that generation that had built so grandly. And victor. Now un-contested ruler. Empress.”

The sky is bright; a promise of future rule, benevolence, and power.

What cast her mind, what hue her thoughts as she looks into the sky, and breathes deep the scent of power?

Listen, then, to these words carried on that breath.

In the Lady’s absence, only the Lord is present.

And the Lord has, at last, pushed.

 In the last moments of the engagement, Laseen faces two assassination attempts. One is by Cowl, the Avowed High Mage & chief assassin of the Guard, once rival to Dancer himself.

The other is by Taya Radok, the daughter of Vorcan – an inhuman, possibly demon-possessed woman.

Laseen would not see the light of day again.

“He was poised for the appearance of one man and one only – such was the price of Laseen. The question was, would that man bite?

Of course he would.

Possum eased his blades in their wrist-sheaths. Now. It must be now. This would be his last opportunity before the army clasped Laseen to its bloody, battered but victorious breast.

And the man did bite. But not as Possum had assumed.

A sharp blow to his back was Possum's last sensation. He was flung forward stunned by the power and sudden violence of that strike. Vital seconds passed before his eyes fluttered open once more to view through kicked-up dust two figures enmeshed in a dance of exquisite choreography. It was the one they wanted; the only one who remained a true threat and whom they would always be watching their backs for. Master assassin and High Mage of the Crimson Guard. Dancer's rival all those years ago – Cowl.

He was astonishing to watch. Blades bared, darting, feinting, and Laseen blocking with kicks that lashed out to punish chest and head. A gesture from Cowl and Warren magics wavered the air like heat ripples only to dissipate to nothing upon Laseen. Of course, the lingering Otataral dust. That useless effort from Cowl drew him a blow to his head that sent him spinning from his feet. Yet he was up again, unfazed, and closed, leaping. A blurred series of slashes from him, spinning, knives reversed; Laseen slipping each, hands jabbing, and the edge of a foot slamming Cowl back. But her shirt and trousers now hung slashed – blood bloomed upon her front, dripped from her hands.

[…]

He(Cowl) threw himself sideways but not quickly enough as a new figure appeared, leaping from a Warren to lash out, kicking him in his side, sending him tumbling down into the blast crater. This new figure launched himself after, scarecrow thin, tattered clothes flapping, his long white hair a dirty tangle. He leapt upon Cowl and the two slashed at each other, dirt and dust billowing in a blur of shifting feet, rolls, sweeps, grips attempted and broken, and throws.

A kick from Cowl sent the other flying backwards, but in the air an arm snapped forward and a thin blade slammed into the Guard assassin. He gestured, disappeared into a Warren and the other, landing cat-like on his feet, white hair flying, waved to disappear as well.

And so they are off chasing each other across Realms and Warrens. Cowl and Topper, hated enemies and rivals from their first meeting. Will Topper finally succeed where Dancer failed and ascend to the peak of his calling? Will it always be Dancer and Cowl – never him? Will we ever see either of them again? Myself, I hope not! Possum fell to his knees and a hand, his chest cramped. Gods! He couldn't breathe! Punctured a lung, he was sure of it.

‘Bring a healer,’ Laseen called to the soldiers who'd run up. She actually sounded winded – a first. Possum smiled, meaning to make a joke of that, but he saw behind Laseen's dirty blood-smeared feet two others: two small girl's feet snug in fine leather slippers.

Oh no! No! Others can wait just as patiently!

He straightened though his chest flamed and his vision blurred. Laseen was staring ahead, a puzzled look in eyes that had otherwise always guarded all expression, all hints. The girl-woman who'd bested Possum twice before backed away, long stilettos bloodied, a wicked sharp-toothed smile, eyes bright with savage glee.

‘Done!’ she gloated, then jumped, blades flashing to parry thrown heavy knives that hissed past Possum. Warren magics blew her backwards in waves of power and she writhed, snarling and flailing amid the blackened dirt of the crater. A Warren opened and she fell within, her form melting, transforming into some thing else.

Soldiers and mages ran up. Possum knelt before Laseen, who had eased forward on to her knees. ‘Laseen,’ he breathed, hardly able to form words. ‘Laseen …’

Her eyes held no recognition, no awareness. The face softened. The hard, so long held lines of watchfulness and calculation melted away to reveal a seemingly younger woman – one whom Possum would call far from plain. She fell forward to the burnt, trampled ground. Mages pushed Possum aside, knelt, turned her over. Hands eased him down as well.

I failed. One job to do – just the one. And I failed. What am I to do? What could there possibly be for me now?

He felt Denul healing magics stealing upon him, dulling his pain and his senses.

Do not, dear healers, bother to wake me.”

And now, the Empress before us dies.

An age is done. The chapter must close.

We are abandoned to history.

This is the blood of her life. This is the payment of her deeds. All… soon to be forgotten.

She was never what an Emperor could be.

She was only what she was.

Remember her.