A Knight Herald thundered down the avenue on a huge, well-lathered horse, the sun glinting on the golden wings of his helmet. Secretaries scattered to let him pass, and Jezal tried to guide Ardee gently out of the way. To his great dismay she refused to be moved. The horse flashed past within a few inches of her, close enough for the wind to flick her hair in Jezal’s face. She turned to him with a flush of excitement on her cheek, otherwise utterly undaunted by her brush with severe injury.

“A Knight Herald?” she asked, taking Jezal’s arm once again and leading him off down the Kingsway.

“Yes,” squeaked Jezal, desperately trying to bring his voice under control, “the Knights Herald are entrusted with a grave responsibility. They carry messages from the King to every part of the Union.” His heart had stopped hammering. “Even across the Circle Sea to Angland, Dagoska, and Westport. They are entrusted to speak with the King’s voice, and so forbidden from speaking except on the King’s business.”

“Fedor dan Haden was on the boat on our way over, he’s a Knight Herald. We talked for hours.” Jezal attempted unsuccessfully to contain his surprise. “We talked about Adua, about the Union, about his family. Your name was mentioned, actually.” Jezal failed to look nonchalant once again. “In connection with the coming Contest.” Ardee leaned even closer to him. “Fedor was of the opinion that Bremer dan Gorst will cut you to pieces.”

Jezal gave a strangled cough, but he rallied well. “Unfortunately, that opinion seems widely held.”

“But not by you, I trust?”

“Er…”

She stopped and took him by the hand, staring earnestly into his eyes. “I’m sure that you’ll get the better of him, no matter what they say. My brother speaks very highly of you, and he’s stingy with his praise.”

“Er…” mumbled Jezal. His fingers were tingling pleasantly. Her eyes were big and dark, and he found himself greatly at a loss for words. She had this way of biting on her lower lip that made his thoughts stray. A fine, full lip. He wouldn’t have minded having a little chew on it himself. “Well, thank you.” He gave a gormless grin.

“So this is the park,” said Ardee, turning away from him to admire the greenery. “It’s even more beautiful than I’d imagined.”

“Erm… yes.”

“How wonderful, to be at the heart of things. I’ve spent so much of my life on the edge. There must be many important decisions made here, many important people.” Ardee allowed her hand to trail through the fronds of a willow tree by the road. “Collem’s worried there might be war in the North. He was worried for my safety. I think that’s why he wanted me to come here. I think he worries too much. What do you think, Captain Luthar?”

He had been in blissful ignorance of the political situation until a couple of hours before, but that would never do as a reply. “Well,” he said, straining to remember the name, and then with relief, “this Bethod could do with a rap on the knuckles.”

“They say he has twenty thousand Northmen under his banner.” She leaned towards him. “Barbarians,” she murmured. “Savages,” she whispered. “I heard he skins his captives alive.”

Jezal thought this was hardly suitable conversation for a young lady. “Ardee…” he began.

“But I’m sure with men like you and my brother to protect us, we womenfolk have nothing to worry about.” And she turned and made off up the path. Jezal had to hurry once again to catch up.

“And is that the House of the Maker?” Ardee nodded towards the grim outline of the huge tower.

“Why, yes it is.”

“Does no one go inside?”

“No one. Not in my lifetime anyway. The bridge is kept behind lock and key.” He frowned up at the tower. Seemed strange now, that he never thought about it. Living in the Agriont, it was always there. You just got used to it somehow. “The place is sealed, I believe.”

“Sealed?” Ardee moved very close to him. Jezal glanced around nervously but nobody was looking. “Isn’t it strange that nobody goes in there? Isn’t it a mystery?” He could almost feel her breath on his neck, “I mean to say, why not just break the door down?”

Jezal was finding it horribly difficult to concentrate with her so close. He wondered for a moment, both frightening and exciting, whether she might be flirting with him? No, no, of course not! Just not used to the city was all. The artless ways of a country girl… but then she was very close. If only she were a little less attractive or a little less confident. If only she were a little less… West’s sister.

He coughed and looked off down the path, hoping vainly for a distraction. There were a few people moving along it, but no one that he recognised, unless… Ardee’s spell was suddenly broken, and Jezal felt his skin go cold. A hunched figure, overdressed on this sunny day, was limping toward them, leaning heavily on a cane. He was bent over and wincing with every step, the faster-moving travellers giving him a wide berth. Jezal tried to steer Ardee away before he saw them, but she resisted gracefully and made a direct line for the shambling Inquisitor.

His head snapped up as they approached and his eyes glinted with recognition. Jezal’s heart sank. There was no avoiding him now.

“Why, Captain Luthar,” said Glokta warmly, shuffling a little too close and shaking his hand, “what a pleasure! I’m surprised that Varuz has let you go so early in the day. He must be mellowing in his old age.”

“The Lord Marshal is still most demanding,” snapped Jezal.

“I hope my Practicals didn’t inconvenience you the other night.” The Inquisitor shook his head sadly. “They have no manners. No manners at all. But they are the very best at what they do! I swear, the King doesn’t have two more valuable servants.”

“I suppose we all serve the King in our own way.” There was a little more hostility in Jezal’s voice than he had intended.

If Glokta was offended he didn’t show it. “Quite so. I don’t believe I know your friend.”

“No. This is—”

“Actually, we’ve met,” said Ardee, much to Jezal’s surprise, giving her hand to the Inquisitor. “Ardee West.”

Glokta’s eyebrows rose. “No!” He bent down stiffly to kiss the back of her hand. Jezal saw his mouth twist as he straightened up, but the toothless grin soon returned. “Collem West’s sister! But you are so much changed.”

“For the better, I hope,” she laughed. Jezal felt horribly uncomfortable.

“Why—yes indeed,” said Glokta.

“And you are changed also, Sand.” Ardee looked suddenly very sad. “We were all so worried in my family. We hoped and hoped for your safe return.” Jezal saw a spasm run over Glokta’s face. “Then when we heard you were hurt… how are you?”

The Inquisitor glanced at Jezal, his eyes cold as a slow death. Jezal stared down at his boots, a lump of fear in his throat. He had no need to be scared of this cripple, did he? But somehow he wished he was still at fencing practice. Glokta stared at Ardee, his left eye twitching slightly, and she looked back at him undaunted, her eyes full of quiet concern.

“I am well. As well as can be expected.” His expression had turned very strange. Jezal felt more uncomfortable than ever. “Thank you for asking. Truly. Nobody ever does.”

There was an awkward silence. The Inquisitor stretched his neck sideways and there was a loud click. “Ah!” he said, “that’s got it. It’s been a pleasure to see you again, both of you, but duty calls.” He treated them to another revolting smile then hobbled off, his left foot scraping in the gravel.

Ardee frowned at his twisted back as he limped slowly away. “It’s so sad,” she said under her breath.

“What?” mumbled Jezal. He was thinking about that big white bastard in the street, those narrow pink eyes. The prisoner with the bag on his head. We all serve the King in our own way. Quite so. He gave an involuntary shiver.

“He and my brother used to be quite close. He came to stay with us one summer. My family were so proud to have him it was embarrassing. He used to fence with my brother every day, and he always won. The way he moved, it was something to see. Sand dan Glokta. He was the brightest star in the sky.” She flashed her knowing half-smile again. “And now I hear you are.”