Marovia speared a slice of carrot with his fork and stared sourly at it. 'A lamentable state of affairs. It would have been preferable for all concerned if Raynault or Ladisla were still alive.' He thought about it for a moment. 'If Raynault were still alive, at least. But the vote will take place tomorrow, however much we might tear our hair. It is hard now to see our way to a remedy.' He looked from the carrot to Glokta. 'Or do you suggest one?'

'You, your Worship, control between twenty and thirty votes on the Open Council.'

Marovia shrugged. 'I have some influence, I cannot deny it.'

'The Arch Lector can call on thirty votes himself.'

'Good for his Eminence.'

'Not necessarily. If the two of you oppose each other, as you always have, your votes will mean nothing. One for Isher, the other for Brock, and no difference made.'

Marovia sighed. 'A sad end to our two glittering careers.'

'Unless you were to pool your resources. Then you might have sixty votes between you. As many, almost, as Brock controls. Enough to make a King of Skald, or Barezin, or Heugen, or even some unknown, depending on how things go. Someone who might be more easily influenced in the future. Someone who might keep the Closed Council he has, rather than selecting a new one.'

'A King to make us all happy, eh?'

'If you were to express a preference for one man or another, I could take that back to his Eminence.' More steps, more coaxing, more disappointments. Oh, to have a great office of my own, and to sit all day in comfort while cringing bastards slog up my stairs to smile at my insults, lap up my lies, beg for my poisonous support.

'Shall I tell you what would make me happy, Superior Glokta?'

Now for the musings of another power-mad old fart. 'By all means, your Worship.'

Marovia tossed his cutlery onto his plate, sat back in his chair and gave a long, tired sigh. 'I would like no King at all. I would like every man equal under the law, to have a say in the running of his own country and the choosing of his own leaders. I would like no King, and no nobles, and a Closed Council selected by, and answerable to, the citizens themselves. A Closed Council open to all, you might say. What do you think of that?'

I think some people would say that it sounds very much like treason. The rest would simply call it madness. 'I think, your Worship, that your notion is a fantasy.'

'Why so?'

'Because the vast majority of men would far rather be told what to do than make their own choices. Obedience is easy.'