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Notes:
Scanned by: Unknown
Corrected and formatted by: JASC
---This scan was a horrible wreck. The person scanning the book(wasn�t me!) did a very bad job. I had to reformat the entire thing and correct a ton of OCR errors. Errors still abound, but it should be much more readable now.

This was converted from .txt format(which was the only format the original scanned text was in. Any special fronting has long since been lost�

Current e-book version is .5 (the glaring format errors have been corrected; unproofed; still needs alot of work)
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Book Information:
Genre: Epic Fantasy
Author: Steven Erikson
Name: Gardens of the Moon
Series: A Tale of the Malazan Book of the Fallen 1
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Gardens of the Moon
A Tale of the Malazan Book of the Fallen 1
Steven Erikson



PROLOGUE
1154th Year of Burn's Sleep 96th Year of the Malazan Empire The Last Year of Emperor Kellanved's Reign

I

HE STAINS OF RUST SEEMED TO MAP BLOOD SEAS ON THE BLACK, pocked surface of Mock's Vane. A century old, it squatted on the point of an old pike that had been bolted to the outer top of the Hold's wall. Monstrous and misshapen, it had been cold-hammered into the form of a winged demon, teeth bared in a leering grin, and was tugged and buffeted in squealing protest with every gust of wind.
The winds were contrary the day columns of smoke rose over the Mouse Quarter of Malaz City. The Vane's silence announced the sudden falling-off of the sea breeze that came clambering over the ragged walls of Mock's Hold, then it creaked back into life as the hot, spark-scattered and smoke-filled breath of the Mouse Quarter reached across the city to sweep the promontory's heights.
Ganoes Stabro Paran of the House of Paran stood on tiptoe to see over the merlon. Behind him rose Mock's Hold, once capital of the Empire but now, since the mainland had been conquered, relegated once more to a Fist's holding. To his left rose the pike and its wayward trophy.
. For Ganoes, the ancient fortification overlooking the city was too familiar to be of interest. This visit was his third in as many years; he'd long ago explored the courtyard with its heaved cobblestones, the Old Keep - now a stable, its upper floor home to pigeons and swallows and bats - and the citadel where even now his father negotiated the island export tithe with the harbour officials. In the last instance, of course, a goodly portion was out of bounds, even for a son of a noble house; for it was in the citadel that the Fist had his residence, and in the inner chambers that such affairs of the Empire as concerned this island were conducted.
Mock's Hold forgotten behind him, Ganoes' attention was on the tattered city below, and the riots that ran through its poorest quarter.
Mock's Hold stood atop a cliff. The higher land of the Pinnacle was reached by a switchback ...

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