Jezal stepped out of the door to his quarters in a great hurry, cursing as he dragged his box behind him. It really was an awful imposition that he had been obliged to carry his own luggage, but time was extremely pressing if he was to save the Union from the madness of its own people. He had given only the briefest consideration to the idea of sprinting for the docks and taking passage on the first ship to distant Suljuk, before angrily dismissing it. He had taken the promotion with his eyes open, and now he supposed he had no choice but to see it through. Better to do it, than to live with the fear of it, and so forth. He twisted his key in the lock, turned around, and recoiled with a girlish gasp of shock. There was someone in the shadows opposite his door, and the feeling of horror only worsened when he realised who it was.

The cripple Glokta stood against the wall, leaning heavily on his cane and grinning his repulsive, toothless grin. 'A word, Colonel Luthar.'

'If you are referring to this business with the peasants, it is well in hand.' Jezal was unable to keep the sneer of disgust entirely off his face. 'You need not trouble yourself on that—'

'I am not referring to that business.'

'Then what?'

'Ardee West.'

The corridor seemed suddenly very empty, very quiet. The soldiers, the officers, the servants, all away in Angland. There were just the two of them, for all Jezal knew, in the entire barracks. 'I fail to see how that is any concern of—'

'Her brother, our mutual friend Collem West, you do remember him? Worried-looking fellow, losing his hair. Bit of a temper.' Jezal felt a guilty flush across his face. He remembered the man well enough, of course, and his temper in particular. 'He came to me shortly before departing for the war in Angland. He asked me to look to his sister's welfare while he was away, risking his life. I promised to do so.' Glokta shuffled slightly closer and Jezal's flesh crept. 'A responsibility which, I assure you, I take as seriously as any task the Arch Lector might choose to give me.'

'I see,' croaked Jezal. That certainly explained the cripple's presence at her house the other day, which had, until then, been causing him some confusion. He felt no easier in his mind, however. Considerably less, in fact.

'I hardly think that Collem West would be best pleased with what has been transpiring these last few days, do you?'

Jezal shifted guiltily from one foot to the other. 'I admit that I have visited her—'

'Your visits,' whispered the cripple, 'are not good for that girl's reputation. We are left with three options. Firstly, and this is my personal favourite, you walk away, and you pretend you never met her, and you never see her again.'

'Unacceptable,' Jezal found himself saying, his voice surprisingly brash.

'Secondly, then, you marry the lady, and all's forgotten.'