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Authors: Joe Abercrombie
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suitable match of his youngest daughter for my eldest son.”
“You accepted?”
“I told him it was too early to accept anything.”
“I am sure his Eminence could stretch to twenty-one, but that would have to be—”
“High Justice Marovia’s man already offered me twenty-five.”
“Harlen Morrow?” hissed Glokta through his remaining teeth.
Lord Wetterlant raised an eyebrow. “I believe that was the name.”
“I regret that I can only match that offer at present. I will inform his Eminence of your position.” His delight, I am sure, will know no bounds.
“I look forward to hearing from you, Superior.” Wetterlant turned back to his ducks and permitted them a few more crumbs, a vague smile hovering round his lips as he watched them tussle with each other.
Glokta hobbled painfully up to the ordinary house in the unexceptional street, something resembling a smile on his face. A moment free of the suffocating company of the great and the good. A moment in which I do not have to lie, or cheat, or watch for a knife in my back. Perhaps I’ll even find a room that doesn’t still stink of Harlen Morrow. That would be a refreshing—
The door opened sharply even as he raised his fist to knock, and he was left staring into the grinning face of a man wearing the uniform of an officer in the King’s Own. It was so unexpected that Glokta did not recognise him at first. Then he felt a surge of dismay.
“Why, Captain Luthar. What a surprise.” And a thoroughly unpleasant one.
He was considerably changed. Where once he had been boyish and smooth, he had acquired a somewhat angular, even a weather-beaten look. Where once he had carried his chin with an arrogant lift, he now had an almost apologetic tilt to his face. He had grown a beard too, perhaps in an unsuccessful attempt to disguise a vicious-looking scar through his lip and down his jaw. Though it has far from rendered him ugly, alas.
“Inquisitor Glokta… er…”
“Superior.”
“Really?” Luthar blinked at him for a moment. “Well… in that case…” The easy smile reappeared, and Glokta was surprised to find himself being shaken warmly by the hand. “Congratulations. I would love to chat but duty calls. I haven’t long in the city, you see. Off to the North, and so on.”
“Of course.” Glokta frowned after him as he stepped jauntily off up the street, with just the one furtive glance over his shoulder as he rounded the corner. Leaving only the question of why he was here in the first place. Glokta hobbled through the open door and shut it quietly behind him. Although honestly, a young man leaving a young woman’s house in the early morning? One scarcely requires his Majesty’s Inquisition to solve that particular mystery. Did I not leave more than my share of residences in the early hours, after all? Pretending to hope that I wasn’t observed, but really rather hoping that I was? He passed through the doorway into the living room. Or was that a different man?
Ardee West stood with her back to him, and he heard the sound of wine trickling into a glass. “Did you forget something?” she asked over her shoulder, voice soft and playful. Not a tone I often get to hear women use. Horror, disgust, and the slightest touch of pity are more common. There was a clinking as she put the bottle away. “Or did you decide you really couldn’t live without another—” She had a crooked smile on her face as she turned, but it slid off suddenly when she saw who was standing there.
Glokta snorted. “Don’t worry, I get that reaction from everyone. Even myself, every morning, when I look into the mirror.” If I can even manage to stand up in front of the damn thing.
“It’s not like that, and you know it. I just wasn’t expecting you to wander in.”
“We’ve all had quite the shock this morning, then. You’ll never guess who I passed in your hallway.”
She froze for just a moment, then tossed her head dismissively and slurped wine
“You accepted?”
“I told him it was too early to accept anything.”
“I am sure his Eminence could stretch to twenty-one, but that would have to be—”
“High Justice Marovia’s man already offered me twenty-five.”
“Harlen Morrow?” hissed Glokta through his remaining teeth.
Lord Wetterlant raised an eyebrow. “I believe that was the name.”
“I regret that I can only match that offer at present. I will inform his Eminence of your position.” His delight, I am sure, will know no bounds.
“I look forward to hearing from you, Superior.” Wetterlant turned back to his ducks and permitted them a few more crumbs, a vague smile hovering round his lips as he watched them tussle with each other.
Glokta hobbled painfully up to the ordinary house in the unexceptional street, something resembling a smile on his face. A moment free of the suffocating company of the great and the good. A moment in which I do not have to lie, or cheat, or watch for a knife in my back. Perhaps I’ll even find a room that doesn’t still stink of Harlen Morrow. That would be a refreshing—
The door opened sharply even as he raised his fist to knock, and he was left staring into the grinning face of a man wearing the uniform of an officer in the King’s Own. It was so unexpected that Glokta did not recognise him at first. Then he felt a surge of dismay.
“Why, Captain Luthar. What a surprise.” And a thoroughly unpleasant one.
He was considerably changed. Where once he had been boyish and smooth, he had acquired a somewhat angular, even a weather-beaten look. Where once he had carried his chin with an arrogant lift, he now had an almost apologetic tilt to his face. He had grown a beard too, perhaps in an unsuccessful attempt to disguise a vicious-looking scar through his lip and down his jaw. Though it has far from rendered him ugly, alas.
“Inquisitor Glokta… er…”
“Superior.”
“Really?” Luthar blinked at him for a moment. “Well… in that case…” The easy smile reappeared, and Glokta was surprised to find himself being shaken warmly by the hand. “Congratulations. I would love to chat but duty calls. I haven’t long in the city, you see. Off to the North, and so on.”
“Of course.” Glokta frowned after him as he stepped jauntily off up the street, with just the one furtive glance over his shoulder as he rounded the corner. Leaving only the question of why he was here in the first place. Glokta hobbled through the open door and shut it quietly behind him. Although honestly, a young man leaving a young woman’s house in the early morning? One scarcely requires his Majesty’s Inquisition to solve that particular mystery. Did I not leave more than my share of residences in the early hours, after all? Pretending to hope that I wasn’t observed, but really rather hoping that I was? He passed through the doorway into the living room. Or was that a different man?
Ardee West stood with her back to him, and he heard the sound of wine trickling into a glass. “Did you forget something?” she asked over her shoulder, voice soft and playful. Not a tone I often get to hear women use. Horror, disgust, and the slightest touch of pity are more common. There was a clinking as she put the bottle away. “Or did you decide you really couldn’t live without another—” She had a crooked smile on her face as she turned, but it slid off suddenly when she saw who was standing there.
Glokta snorted. “Don’t worry, I get that reaction from everyone. Even myself, every morning, when I look into the mirror.” If I can even manage to stand up in front of the damn thing.
“It’s not like that, and you know it. I just wasn’t expecting you to wander in.”
“We’ve all had quite the shock this morning, then. You’ll never guess who I passed in your hallway.”
She froze for just a moment, then tossed her head dismissively and slurped wine
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