'I'd just like to see it, that's all.'

'If I do come crawling back, Pearl, it will be to stick a knife in your neck.'

'With those cheery words you can go now, dear.' She wheeled and marched from the tent.

Fist Keneb joined Tene Baralta in the mustering area just inside the north pickets. Moths and biting flies were swarming in the crepuscular air. Heaps of rocky earth rose like modest barrows where the soldiers had dug their trenches. As yet, few squads had assembled, so as not to reveal the army's intentions too early, although Keneb suspected that Leoman and his warriors already knew all that needed to be known. Even so, the Fist noted as he stared at the distant, uneven wall, topmost among the tiers of earth and rubble, there seemed to be no activity.

Y'Ghatan was deathly quiet, virtually unlit as darkness spread its cloak.

Tene Baralta was in full armour: scaled vest, chain skirt and camail, greaves and vambraces of beaten bronze rimmed with iron. He was adjusting the straps of his helm as Keneb came to his side.

'Blistig is not happy,' Keneb said.

Baralta's laugh was low. 'Tonight belongs to you and me, Keneb. He only moves in if we get in trouble. Temul was wondering… this plan, it matches his own. Did you advise the Adjunct?'

'I did. Inform Temul that she was pleased that his strategy matched her own in this matter.'

'Ah.'

'Have your company's mages begun?' Keneb asked.

A grunt, then, 'They say there's no-one there, no-one waiting to counter them. Nil and Nether have made the same discovery. Could Leoman have lost all his mages, do you think?'

'I don't know. Seems unlikely.'

'I trust you've heard the rumours, Keneb.'

'About what?'

'Plague. From the east. It has swept through Ehrlitan. If we fail tonight and find ourselves bogged down outside this city…'

Keneb nodded. 'Then we must succeed, Tene Baralta.'

A rider was galloping on the road behind and to their right, fast approaching. Both men turned as the pounding hoofs reverberated through the ground at their feet. 'An urgent message?' Keneb wondered, squinting to make out the grey-cloaked figure, face hidden by a hood.

A longsword at his side, the scabbard banded in white enamel. 'I do not recog-'

The rider rode straight for them. Bellowing in anger, Tene Baralta leapt to one side. Keneb followed, then spun as the rider flew past, his white horse reaching the trenches, and launching itself over. The picket guards shouted. A crossbow discharged, the quarrel striking the stranger on the back, then caroming off into the night. Still riding at full gallop, the figure now leaning forward over the horse's neck, they sailed over the narrow inside trench, then raced for the city.

Where a gate cracked open, spilling muted lantern light.

'Hood's breath!' Tene Beralta swore, regaining his feet. 'An enemy rides right through our entire army!'

'We've no exclusive claim on bravery,' Keneb said. 'And I admit to a grudging admiration – I am glad to have witnessed it.'

'A rider to bring word to Leoman-'

'Nothing he doesn't already know, Tene Baralta. Consider this a lesson, a reminder-'

'I need none, Keneb. Look at this, my helm's full of dirt. Light grey cloak, white horse and white-banded sword. A tall bastard. I will find him, I swear it, and he will pay for his temerity.'

'We've enough concerns ahead of us this night,' Keneb said. 'If you go off hunting one man, Tene Baralta…'

He emptied the dirt from the helm. 'I hear you. Pray to Treach, then, that the bastard crosses my path one more time this night.'

Treach, is it? Fener… gone so quickly from men's minds. A message no god would dare to heed, I think.

Lieutenant Pores stood with Captain Kindly and the Korelri Faradan Sort, within sight of their respective companies. Word of a spy in the army's midst, boldly riding into Y'Ghatan, had everyone more on edge than they already were, given that at any moment would come the order to move. Sappers in the lead, of course, disguised within gloomy magic.

Magic. It's all gloomy. Worse than sappers, in fact. In combination, well, this night was headed straight into the Abyss, as far as Pores was concerned. He wondered where old Ebron was, and if he was participating in the rituals – he missed his old squad. Limp, Bell, and that new lass, Sinn – now there was a scary creature. Well, maybe he didn't miss them all that much. Dangerous, one and all, and mostly to each other.

Captain Kindly had been trying to take the measure of the woman standing beside him – a choice of phrase that brought a small smile to the lieutenant's mouth. Take her measure. But ain't nobody's got that close, from what I hear. In any case, it was frustrating being unable to get a sense of a fellow officer. Cold iron, probably – you don't stand the Wall long enough to survive without something icy, brutal and calculated wrapped round the soul – but this one was cold in every other way besides. Rarest of all, a woman of few words. He smiled again.

'Wipe that grin off your face, Lieutenant,' Kindly said, 'or I'll conclude you've lost your mind and promote you.'

'Apologies, Captain, I promise I won't do it again. Please don't promote me.'

'You two are idiots,' Faradan Sort said.

Well, that's one way to halt a conversation.

Sergeant Hellian looked on the wavering scene, comforted by an overwhelming sense of propriety, although the way everyone was swaying was making her nauseous. Corporal Urb separated himself from the squad and came up to her.

'You ready for this, Sergeant?'

'Ready for what?' she demanded. Then scowled, all sense of propriety vanishing. 'If that bastard hadn't disappeared the way he did, I wouldn't be trading my sword for a jug of that local rot, would I?'

She reached down for the weapon, her hand groping as it found only air, then the empty scabbard. 'Why didn't you stop me, Urb? I mean, it was my sword, after all. What am I s'posed to use?'

He shifted nervously, then leaned closer. 'Get a new one from the armoury, Sergeant.'

'And that'll get back to the captain and we'll get shipped off somewhere even worse.'

'Worse? Where is worse than this, Sergeant?'

'Korel. Theftian Penins'la. Black Coral, under the empty eyes of the Tiste Andii. The Wreckers' Coast on North Assail-'

'Ain't no Malazan forces there.'

'No, but it's worse than this.'

'One story from some addled sailor in Kartool and you're now convinced that Hood himself strides the shadows-'

'He's stridin' our shallows – shadows, I mean.'

'Listen, Sergeant, we're about to head into battle-'

'Right, where's that jug?' She looked round, found it lying on its side near somebody's bedroll. 'Hey, who in my squad ain't packed up their kit?'

'That's yours, Sergeant,' Urb said.

'Oh.' Collecting the jug, she gave it a shake and was pleased at the sloshing sounds within. She glanced over to stare at her… squad.

There were two soldiers. Two. Some squad. Captain had said something about a few newcomers on the way. 'Well, where are they?'

'Who?' Urb asked. 'Your squad? They're right in front of you.'

'Touchy and Brethless.'

'That's right.'

'Well, where are the rest? Didn't we have more?'

'Had four marching with us the last day, but they were reassigned.'

'So my squad is a corporal and two soljers.'

'Twins, Sergeant,' Touchy said. 'But I'm older, as I'm sure you can tell.'

'And mentally underdeveloped, Sergeant,' Brethless said. 'Those last few minutes were obviously crucial, as I'm sure you can tell.'

Hellian turned away. 'They look the same to me, Urb. All right, has the word come yet? We s'posed to be mustering somewhere right now?'