'When you can no longer fight in truth, Trull Sengar, the failure will cease to matter.'
'I did not think they would defy her, you know, but now, I see that it makes sense. She expected them to just abandon this, leaving the handful remaining here to their fate. Our fate, I mean.' He shrugged.
'Panek was not surprised.'
'The other children look to him,' Onrack said. 'They would not abandon him. Nor their mothers.'
'And, in staying, they will break the hearts of us all.'
'Yes.'
The Tiste Edur looked over. 'Have you come to regret the awakening of emotions within you, Onrack?'
'This awakening serves to remind me, Trull Sengar.'
'Of what?'
'Of why I am called "The Broken".'
'As broken as the rest of us.'
'Not Monok Ochem, nor Ibra Gholan.'
'No, not them.'
'Trull Sengar, when the attackers come, I would you know – I intend to leave your side.'
'Indeed?'
'Yes. I intend to challenge their leader. To slay him or be destroyed in the attempt. Perhaps, if I can deliver a truly frightful cost, they will reconsider their alliance with the Crippled God. At the very least, they may withdraw and not return for a long time.'
'I understand.' Trull then smiled in the gloom. 'I will miss your presence at my side in those final moments, my friend.'
'Should I succeed in what I intend, Trull Sengar, I shall return to your side.'
'Then you had better be quick killing that leader.'
'Such is my intention.'
'Onrack, I hear something new in your voice.'
'Yes.'
'What does it mean?'
'It means, Trull Sengar, that Onrack the Broken, in discovering impatience, has discovered something else.'
'What?'
'This: I am done with defending the indefensible. I am done with witnessing the fall of friends. In the battle to come, you shall see in me something terrible. Something neither Ibra Gholan nor Monok Ochem can achieve. Trull Sengar, you shall see a T'lan Imass, awakened to anger.'
****
Banaschar opened the door, wavered for a moment, leaning with one hand against the frame, then staggered into his decrepit room. The rank smell of sweat and unclean bedding, stale food left on the small table beneath the barred window. He paused, considering whether or not to light the lantern – but the oil was low and he'd forgotten to buy more. He rubbed at the bristle on his chin, more vigorously than normal since it seemed his face had gone numb.
A creak from the chair against the far wall, six paces distant.
Banaschar froze in place, seeking to pierce the darkness. 'Who's there?' he demanded.
'There are few things in this world,' said the figure seated in the chair, 'more pathetic than a once-Demidrek fallen into such disrepair, Banaschar. Stumbling drunk into this vermin-filled hovel every night – why are you here?'
Banaschar stepped to his right and sank heavily onto the cot. 'I don't know who you are,' he said, 'so I see no reason to answer you.'
A sigh, then, 'You send, one after another for a while there, cryptic messages. Pleading, with increasing desperation, to meet with the Imperial High Mage.'
'Then you must realize,' Banaschar said, struggling to force sobriety into his thoughts – the terror was helping – 'that the matter concerns only devotees of D'rek-'
'A description that no longer fits either you or Tayschrenn.'
'There are things,' Banaschar said, 'that cannot be left behind.
Tayschrenn knows this, as much as I-'
'Actually, the Imperial High Mage knows nothing.' A pause, accompanying a gesture that Banaschar interpreted as the man studying his fingernails, and something in his tone changed. 'Not yet, that is.
Perhaps not at all. You see, Banaschar, the decision is mine.'
'Who are you?'
'You are not ready yet to know that.'
'Why are you intercepting my missives to Tayschrenn?'
'Well, to be precise, I have said no such thing.'
Banaschar frowned. 'You just said the decision was yours.'
'Yes I did. That decision centres on whether I remain inactive in this matter, as I have been thus far, or – given sufficient cause – I elect to, um, intervene.'
'Then who is blocking my efforts?'
'You must understand, Banaschar, Tayschrenn is the Imperial High Mage first and foremost. Whatever else he once was is now irrelevant-'
