Toll the Hounds (The Malazan Book of the Fallen 8)
Poor thing, but it’d always been weak, hadn’t it? So many children were weak. Only the strong ones, the smart ones, survived. It’s what the world was like, after all, and the world can’t be changed, not one bit.
There was a man in the Daru High Market who always dressed well and had plenty of coin, and it was well known he’d take little ones. Ten, twenty silver councils, boy or girl, it didn’t matter which. He knew people, rich people-he was just the middleman, but you dealt with him if you didn’t want no one to find out anything, and if there were any small bodies left over, well, they never ever showed up to start people asking questions.
It would be a bit of a walk, especially with both Mew and Hinty, and that’s why he needed to work out a sling of some sort, like the ones the Rhivi mothers used. Only, how did they do that?
The door opened behind him and Snell whirled in sudden terror.
The man standing in the threshold was familiar-he’d been with Stonny Men-ackis the last time she’d visited-and Snell could see at once that dear Snell was in trouble. Ice cold fear, a mouth impossibly dry, a pounding heart.
‘They’re just sleeping!’
The man stared. ‘What have you done with them, Snell?’
‘Nothing! Go away. Da and Ma aren’t here. They went to the Chains Temple. Come back later.’
Instead, the man stepped inside. One gloved hand casually flung Snell back, away from the motionless girls on the floor. The blow rocked Snell, and as if a stopper had been jarred loose fear poured through him. As the man knelt and drew off a glove to set a palm against Mew’s forehead, Snell scrabbled to the back wall.
‘I’m gonna call the guards-I’m gonna scream-’
‘Shut your damned face or I’ll do it for you.’ A quick, heavy look. ‘I’ve not yet started with you, Snell. Everything comes back to you. On the day Harllo went missing, on that day, Snell…’ He lifted his hand and straightened. ‘Are they drugged? Tell me how you did this.’
He meant to keep lying, but all at once he thought that maybe if he told the truth about this, the man might believe the lies he used afterwards, on the other stuff. ‘I just squeeze ’em, when they cry too much, that’s all. It don’t hurt them none, honest.’
The man had glanced at the stretch of burlap lying beside Mew. Maybe he was putting things together, but nothing could be proved, could it? It would be all right. It would be-
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Poor thing, but it’d always been weak, hadn’t it? So many children were weak. Only the strong ones, the smart ones, survived. It’s what the world was like, after all, and the world can’t be changed, not one bit.
There was a man in the Daru High Market who always dressed well and had plenty of coin, and it was well known he’d take little ones. Ten, twenty silver councils, boy or girl, it didn’t matter which. He knew people, rich people-he was just the middleman, but you dealt with him if you didn’t want no one to find out anything, and if there were any small bodies left over, well, they never ever showed up to start people asking questions.
It would be a bit of a walk, especially with both Mew and Hinty, and that’s why he needed to work out a sling of some sort, like the ones the Rhivi mothers used. Only, how did they do that?
The door opened behind him and Snell whirled in sudden terror.
The man standing in the threshold was familiar-he’d been with Stonny Men-ackis the last time she’d visited-and Snell could see at once that dear Snell was in trouble. Ice cold fear, a mouth impossibly dry, a pounding heart.
‘They’re just sleeping!’
The man stared. ‘What have you done with them, Snell?’
‘Nothing! Go away. Da and Ma aren’t here. They went to the Chains Temple. Come back later.’
Instead, the man stepped inside. One gloved hand casually flung Snell back, away from the motionless girls on the floor. The blow rocked Snell, and as if a stopper had been jarred loose fear poured through him. As the man knelt and drew off a glove to set a palm against Mew’s forehead, Snell scrabbled to the back wall.
‘I’m gonna call the guards-I’m gonna scream-’
‘Shut your damned face or I’ll do it for you.’ A quick, heavy look. ‘I’ve not yet started with you, Snell. Everything comes back to you. On the day Harllo went missing, on that day, Snell…’ He lifted his hand and straightened. ‘Are they drugged? Tell me how you did this.’
He meant to keep lying, but all at once he thought that maybe if he told the truth about this, the man might believe the lies he used afterwards, on the other stuff. ‘I just squeeze ’em, when they cry too much, that’s all. It don’t hurt them none, honest.’
The man had glanced at the stretch of burlap lying beside Mew. Maybe he was putting things together, but nothing could be proved, could it? It would be all right. It would be-
Two quick strides and those hands-one gloved and the other bare and scarred-snagged the front of Snell’s tunic. He was lifted into the air until his eyes were level with the man’s. And Snell saw in those deadly eyes something dark, a lifeless whisper that could flatten out at any moment, and all thoughts of lying whimpered away.
‘On that day,’ the man said, ‘you came back with a load of sun-dried dung. Something you’d never done before, and have never done since. No, your mother said it was Harllo who did such things. Harllo, who at five fucking years old did more to help this family than you ever have. Who collected that dung, Snell?’
Snell had widened his eyes as wide as they could go. He made his chin tremble. ‘Harllo,’ he whispered, ‘but I never hurt him-I swear it!’
Oh, he hadn’t wanted to lie. It just came out.
‘Past Worrytown or Two-Ox Gate?’
‘The gate. Two-Ox.’
‘Did you go with him or did you follow him? What happened out there, Snell?’
And Snell’s eyes betrayed him then, a flicker too instinctive to stop in time-down to where Mew and Hinty were lying.
The man’s eyes flattened just as Snell had feared they might.
‘I never killed him! He was breathing when I left him! If you kill me they’ll find out-they’ll arrest you-you’ll go the gallows-you can’t kill me-don’t!’
‘You knocked him out and left him there, after stealing the dung he’d collected. The hills beyond Two-Ox Gate.’
‘And I went back, a couple of days-the day after-and he was gone! He’s just run off, that’s all-’
‘A five-year-old boy doing everything he could to help his family just ran off, did he? Or did you drive him off, Snell?’
‘I never did-he was just gone-and that’s not my fault, is it? Someone maybe found him, maybe even adopted him.’
‘You are going to tell your parents everything, Snell,’ the man said. ‘I will be back tonight, probably late, but I will be back. Don’t even think of running-’’He won’t,’ said a voice from the door,