'Some comfort.' Glokta's mind raced, thinking over the objects within reach. I might make it as far as the ornamental tea-jar on the table. He almost laughed. And do what with it? Offer him tea? Nothing to fight with, even if I was a considerably more effective fighter than I am. 'How did you get in?'

'I have my ways. The same ways in which I crossed the wide desert, travelled the busy road from Shaffa unobserved, passed through the Gurkish host and into the city.'

'And to think, you could have just knocked.'

'Knocking does not guarantee an entrance.' Glokta's eyes strained against the gloom, but he could see nothing beyond the vague grey outlines of furniture, the arched grey spaces of the other windows. The rain pattered on the sill behind, hissed quietly on the roofs of the city below. Just when he was wondering if his dream was over, the voice came again. 'I have been watching the Gurkish, as I have these many years. That is my allotted task. My penance, for the part I played in the schism that has split my order.'

'Your order?'

'The Order of Magi. I am the fourth of Juvens' twelve apprentices.'

A Magus. I might have known. Like that bald old meddler Bayaz, and I gained nothing but confusion from him. As if there were not enough to worry about with politics and treachery, now we must have myth and superstition to boot. Still, it looks as if will last out the night, at least.

'A Magus, eh? Forgive me if I don't celebrate. Such dealings as I've had with your order have been a waste of my time, at best.'

'Perhaps I can repair our reputation, then. I bring you information.'

'Free of charge?'

'This time. The Gurkish are moving. Five of their golden standards pass down the peninsula tonight, under cover of the storm. Twenty thousand spears, with great engines of war. Five more standards wait behind the hills, and that is not all. The roads from Shaffa to Ul-Khatif, from Ul-Khatif to Daleppa, from Daleppa to the sea, all are thick with soldiers. The Emperor puts forth all his strength. The whole South moves. Conscripts from Kadir and Dawah, wild riders from Yashtavit, fierce savages from the jungles of Shamir, where men and women fight side by side. They all come northwards. Coming here, to fight for the Emperor.'

'So many, just to take Dagoska?'

'And more besides. The Emperor has built himself a navy. One hundred sail of great ships.'

'The Gurkish are no sailors. The Union controls the seas.'