Not everyone appeared amused by his sudden elevation, however. King Jezal in particular glowered at Glokta with the most profound dislike. 'Remarkable that you are confirmed already in your position,' he snapped.

Bayaz interposed. 'Such things can happen quickly when there is the will, your Majesty.'

'After all,' observed Hoff, stealing a rare moment away from his goblet to sweep the table with a melancholy glance, 'our numbers are most sadly reduced.'

All too true. Several chairs loomed significantly empty. Marshal Varuz was missing, presumed dead. Certainly dead, given that he was conducting the defence from the Tower of Chains, a structure now scattered widely over the streets of the city. Farewell, my old fencing master, farewell. High Justice Marovia had also left a vacant seat. No doubt they are still trying to scrape the frozen meat from the walls of his office. Adieu to my third suitor, I fear. Lord Valdis, Commander of the Knights Herald, was not in attendance. Keeping watch on the southern gate, I understand, when the Gurkish detonated their explosive powder. Body never found, nor ever will be, one suspects. Lord Admiral Reutzer too, was absent. Wounded at sea by a cutlass to the guts. Not expected to survive, alas.

Truly, the pinnacle of power is less crowded than it used to be.

'Marshal West could not be with us?' asked Lord Chancellor Halleck.

'He regrets that he cannot.' General Kroy seemed to pinch off each word with his teeth. 'He has asked me to take his place, and speak for the army.'

'And how is the Marshal?'

'Wounded.'

'And further afflicted by the wasting illness that has recently swept the Agriont,' added the king, frowning grimly down the table at the First of the Magi.

'Regrettable.' Bayaz' face showed not the slightest sign of regret or anything else.

'A terrible business,' lamented Hoff. 'The physicians are utterly baffled.'

'Few survive.' Luthar's glare had become positively deadly.

'Let us ardently hope,' gushed Torlichorm, 'that Marshal West is one of the lucky ones.' Let us hope so indeed. Although hope changes nothing.

'To business, then?' Wine gurgled from the pitcher as Hoff filled his goblet for the second time since entering the room. 'How fares the campaign, General Kroy?'

'The Gurkish army is utterly routed. We have pursued them towards Keln, where some few managed to flee on the remnant of their fleet. Duke Orso's ships soon put an end to that, however. The Gurkish invasion is over. Victory is ours.' And yet he frowns as though he is admitting defeat.

'Excellent.'

'The nation owes a debt of thanks to its brave soldiers.'

'Our congratulations, General.'

Kroy stared down at the table-top. 'The congratulations belong to Marshal West, who gave the orders, and to General Poulder and the others who gave their lives carrying them out. I was no more than an observer.'