'Shhh,' he hissed, like a parent trying to sooth a wailing child, kneading softly at his ruined flesh and trying to breathe slow. 'Shhh.' The convulsions slowly calmed to a more manageable trembling. About the best that we can hope for, I fear. He was able to pull his nightshirt down and shuffle to the door, flip the key angrily round in the lock, and pull it open. Vitari stood outside in the corridor, draped against the wall, a darker shape in the shadows.

'You,' he grunted, hopping to the chair. 'You just can't stay away, can you? What is your fascination with my bedchamber?'

She sauntered through the door, peering around scornfully at the miserable room. 'Perhaps I just like seeing you in pain.'

Glokta snorted, rubbing gingerly at his burning knee. 'Then you must be wet between the legs right now.'

'Surprisingly, no. You look like death.'

'When don't I? Did you come to mock my looks, or have we some business?'

Vitari folded her long arms and leaned against the wall. 'You need to get dressed.'

'More excuses to see me naked?'

'Sult wants you.'

'Now?'

She rolled her eyes. 'Oh no, we can take our time. You know how he is.'

'Where are we going?'

'You'll see when we get there.' And she upped her pace, making him gasp and wince, snorting his aching way through the dim archways, down the shadowy lanes and the grey courtyards of the Agriont, colourless in the thin light of early morning.

His clumsy boots crunched and scraped in the gravel of the park. The grass was heavy with cold dew, the air thick with dull mist. Trees loomed up, black and leafless claws in the murk, and then a towering, sheer wall. Vitari led him towards a high gate, flanked by two guards. Their heavy armour was worked with gold, their heavy halberds were studded with gold, the golden sun of the Union was stitched into their surcoats. Knights of the Body. The King's personal guard.

'The palace?' muttered Glokta.

'No, the slums, genius.'

'Halt.' One of the two knights raised his gauntleted hand, voice echoing slightly from the grill in his tall helmet. 'State your names and business.'

'Superior Glokta.' He hobbled to the wall and leaned against the damp stones, pressing his tongue into his empty gums against the pain in his leg. 'As for the business, ask her. This wasn't my idea, I can damn well tell you that.'

'Practical Vitari. And the Arch Lector is expecting us. You know that already, fool, I told you on the way out.'

If it were possible for a man in full armour to appear hurt, this one did. 'It is a matter of protocol that I ask everyone—'