'None,' snapped the General. 'We rarely had cause to speak to one another. Davoust was well-known as an abrasive character. As far as I am concerned, the Inquisition has its responsibilities, and I have mine.' Touchy, touchy. But then everyone is, since I arrived in town. You'd almost think they didn't want me here.

'You have your responsibilities, eh?' Glokta shuffled to the parapet, lifted his cane and prodded at a corner of crumbling masonry, not far from Vitari's heel. A chunk of stone cracked away and tumbled from the wall into space. A few moments later he heard it clatter into the ditch, far below. He rounded on Vissbruck. 'As commander of the city's defences, would you count the maintenance of the walls as being among your responsibilities?'

Vissbruck bristled. 'I have done everything possible!'

Glokta counted the points off with the fingers of his free hand. 'The land walls are crumbling and poorly manned. The ditch beyond is so choked with dirt it barely exists. The gates have not been replaced in years, and are falling to pieces on their own. If the Gurkish were to attack tomorrow, I do believe we'd be in quite a sorry position.'

'Not for any oversight on my part, I can assure you! With the heat, and the wind, and the salt from the sea, wood and metal rot in no time, and stone fares little better! Do you realise the task?'

The General gestured at the great sweep of the towering land walls, curving away to the sea on either side. Even here at the top, the parapet was wide enough to drive a cart down, and they were a lot thicker at the base. 'I have few skilled masons, and precious little materials! What the Closed Council gives me barely pays for the upkeep of the Citadel! Then the money from the Spicers scarcely keeps the walls of the Upper City in good repair—'

Fool! One could almost believe he did not seriously mean to defend the city at all. 'The Citadel cannot be supplied by sea if the rest of Dagoska is in Gurkish hands, am I right?'

Vissbruck blinked. 'Well, no, but—'

'The walls of the Upper City might keep the natives where they are, but they are too long, too low, and too thin to withstand a concerted attack for long, would you agree?'

'Yes, I suppose so, but—'