“I’ve never seen the world change quickly,” said Vick. “If I’ve seen it change at all.”

“I begin to think Sibalt liked you so because you were his opposite.” Risinau laid a playful hand on her shoulder. “You are such a cynic, Sister!”

Vick shrugged him off. “I think I’ve earned it.”

“After a childhood stolen in the camps,” said Pike, “and a career of making friends to betray for Arch Lector Glokta, how could you be otherwise? But one can be too cynical. You will see.”

Vick had to admit she’d been expecting the Great Change to collapse long before now. For Judge and Risinau to move past bickering to tearing each other apart, for the fragile coalition of Breakers and Burners, moderates and extremists, to shred into factions, for the resolve of the People’s Army to dissolve in the wet weather. Or, for that matter, for Lord Marshal Rucksted’s cavalry to crest every hill she saw and carve the ragged multitude to pieces.

But Risinau and Judge continued to tolerate each other and the King’s Own made no appearance. Even now, as the rain slacked off and they marched into the ill-planned, ill-drained, ill-smelling maze of shacks outside the walls of the capital, water spattering from the broken gutters and into the muddy lanes below. Maybe Orso’s forces had been fought out against Leo dan Brock. Maybe there were other uprisings to deal with. Maybe these strange times had stretched their loyalties in so many directions they hardly knew who to fight for any more. Vick knew how they felt as the sun showed through, and she caught her first glimpse of the gates of Adua.

For a moment, she wondered whether Tallow was in the city. Fretted that he might be in danger. Then she realised how foolish it was to worry over one person in the midst of all this. What could she do for him, anyway? What could anyone do for anyone?

Risinau nervously eyed the damp-streaked battlements. “It might be wise to take a cautious approach. Deploy our cannon and, er—”

Judge gave a great snort of disgust, dug her bare heels into her horse’s flanks and rode forwards.

“One cannot fault her courage,” said Pike.

“Just her sanity.” Vick was rather hoping for a shower of arrows, but it never came. Judge trotted on towards the walls, chin scornfully raised, in eerie silence.

“You inside!” she screamed, reining in before the gate. “Soldiers of the Union! Men of Adua!” She stood in her stirrups, pointing back at the horde crawling up the soggy road towards the capital. “This is the People’s Army, and it’s come to set the people free! We only need to know one thing from you lot!” She held high one clawing finger. “Are you with the people… or against ’em?”

Her horse shied, and she ripped at the reins and dragged it around in a tight circle, that finger still extended, while the thunder of thousands upon thousands of tramping feet grew steadily louder.