'They're forbidden from standing, of course, to ensure impartiality.' He snorted. 'Impartiality! What they passionately want is to foist some nobody on the nation. Someone they can dominate and manipulate, so they can continue their private feuds uninterrupted.'

'Is there such a candidate?'

'Anyone with a vote is an option, so in theory there are hundreds, but of course the Closed Council cannot agree on one, and so they scramble with scant dignity behind the stronger candidates, changing their loyalties day by day, hoping to insure their futures, doing their best to stay in office. Power has shifted so quickly from them to the nobles their heads are spinning. And some of them will roll one way or another, you may depend on that.'

'Will yours roll, do you think?' asked Ardee, looking up at him from under her dark brows.

Glokta licked slowly at his gums. 'If Sult's does, it may well be that mine will follow.'

'I hope not. You've been kind to me. Kinder than anyone else. Kinder than I deserve.' It was a trick of utter frankness that he had seen her use before, but still an oddly disarming one.

'Nonsense,' mumbled Glokta, wriggling his shoulders in the chair, suddenly awkward. Kindness, honesty, comfortable living rooms… Colonel Glokta would have known what to say, but I am a stranger here. He was still groping for a reply when a sharp knocking echoed in the hallway. 'Are you expecting anyone?'

'Who would I be expecting? My entire acquaintance is here in the room.'

Glokta strained to listen as the front door opened, but could hear nothing more than vague muttering. The door handle turned and the maid poked her head into the room.

'Begging your pardon, but there is a visitor for the Superior.'

'Who?' snapped Glokta. Severard, with news of Prince Raynault's guard? Vitari, with some message from the Arch Lector? Some new problem that needs solving? Some new set of questions to ask?

'He says his name is Mauthis.'

Glokta felt the whole left side of his face twitching. Mauthis? He had not thought about him for some time, but an image of the gaunt banker sprang instantly into his mind now, holding out the receipt, neatly and precisely, for Glokta to sign. A receipt for a gift of one million marks. It may be that in the future, a representative of the banking house of Valint and Balk will come to you requesting… favours.

Ardee was frowning over at him. 'Something wrong?'

'No, nothing,' he croaked, striving to keep his voice from sounding strangled. 'An old associate. Could you give me the room for a moment? I need to talk with this gentleman.'