'Of course. Shabbed al Islik Burai always was… confrontational. That, and his loyalties were… mixed.' Tulkis' grin grew wider. 'He was a passionate believer. A very religious man. A man closer perhaps to church, than to state? I honour God, of course.' And he touched his fingertips to his forehead. 'I honour the great and holy Prophet Khalul.' He touched his head again. 'But I serve…' And his eyes slid up to Glokta's. 'I serve only the Emperor.'

Interesting. 'I thought that in your nation, church and state spoke with one voice.'

'It has often been so, but there are those among us who believe that priests should concern themselves with prayer, and leave the governing to the Emperor and his advisors.'

'I see. And what might the Emperor wish to communicate to us?'

'The difficulty of capturing Dagoska has shocked the people. The priests had convinced them that the campaign would be easy, for God was with us, our cause was righteous, and so forth. God is great, of course,' and he looked up to the ceiling, 'but he is no substitute for good planning. The Emperor desires peace.'

Glokta sat silent for a moment. 'The great Uthman-ul-Dosht? The mighty? The merciless? Desires peace?'

The envoy took no offence. 'I am sure you understand that a reputation for ruthlessness can be useful. A great ruler, especially one of as wide and various a country as Gurkhul, must first be feared. He would desire to be loved also, but that is a luxury. Fear is essential. Whatever you may have heard, Uthman is neither a man of peace, nor of war. He is a man of… what would be your word? Necessity. He is a man of the right tool at the right time.'

'Very prudent,' muttered Glokta.

'Peace, now. Mercy. Compromise. These are the tools that suit his purposes, even if they do not suit the purposes of… others,' and he touched his fingers to his forehead. 'And so he sends me, to find out if they suit you also.'

'Well, well, well. The mighty Uthman-ul-Dosht comes with mercy, and offers peace. These are strange times we live in, eh, Tulkis? Have the Gurkish learned to love their enemies? Or simply fear them?'

'One need not love one's enemy, or even fear him, to desire peace. One need only love oneself.'

'Is that so?'

'It is. I lost two sons in the wars between our peoples. One at Ulrioch in the last war. He was a priest, and burned in the temple there. The other died not long ago, at the siege of Dagoska. He led the charge when the first breach was made.'

Glokta frowned and stretched out his neck. A hail of flatbow bolts. Tiny figures, falling in the rubble. 'That was a brave charge.'

'War is harshest on the brave.'