The Blade Itself by Joe Abercrombie

Magi?”
    “Yes, he was Harod’s most trusted adviser. Ardee—”
    “Is it true they still keep a vacant seat for him in the Closed Council?”
    Jezal was taken aback. “I’d heard that there’s an empty chair there, but I didn’t know that—”
    “They all look so serious, don’t they?”
    “Er… I suppose those were serious times,” he said, grinning lamely.
    A Knight Herald thundered down the avenue on a huge, well-lathered horse, the sun glinting on the golden wings of his helmet. Secretaries scattered to let him pass, and Jezal tried to guide Ardee gently out of the way. To his great dismay she refused to be moved. The horse flashed past within a few inches of her, close enough for the wind to flick her hair in Jezal’s face. She turned to him with a flush of excitement on her cheek, otherwise utterly undaunted by her brush with severe injury.
    “A Knight Herald?” she asked, taking Jezal’s arm once again and leading him off down the Kingsway.
    “Yes,” squeaked Jezal, desperately trying to bring his voice under control, “the Knights Herald are entrusted with a grave responsibility. They carry messages from the King to every part of the Union.” His heart had stopped hammering. “Even across the Circle Sea to Angland, Dagoska, and Westport. They are entrusted to speak with the King’s voice, and so forbidden from speaking except on the King’s business.”
    “Fedor dan Haden was on the boat on our way over, he’s a Knight Herald. We talked for hours.” Jezal attempted unsuccessfully to contain his surprise. “We talked about Adua, about the Union, about his family. Your name was mentioned, actually.” Jezal failed to look nonchalant once again. “In connection with the coming Contest.” Ardee leaned even closer to him. “Fedor was of the opinion that Bremer dan Gorst will cut you to pieces.”
    Jezal gave a strangled cough, but he rallied well. “Unfortunately, that opinion seems widely held.”
    “But not by you, I trust?”
    “Er…”
    She stopped and took him by the hand, staring earnestly into his eyes. “I’m sure that you’ll get the better of him, no matter what they say. My brother speaks very highly of you, and he’s stingy with his praise.”
    “Er…” mumbled Jezal. His fingers were tingling pleasantly. Her eyes were big and dark, and he found himself greatly at a loss for words. She had this way of biting on her lower lip that made his thoughts stray. A fine, full lip. He wouldn’t have minded having a little chew on it himself. “Well, thank you.” He gave a gormless grin.
    “So this is the park,” said Ardee, turning away from him to admire the greenery. “It’s even more beautiful than I’d imagined.”
    “Erm… yes.”
    “How wonderful, to be at the heart of things. I’ve spent so much of my life on the edge. There must be many important decisions made here, many important people.” Ardee allowed her hand to trail through the fronds of a willow tree by the road. “Collem’s worried there might be war in the North. He was worried for my safety. I think that’s why he wanted me to come here. I think he worries too much. What do you think, Captain Luthar?”
    He had been in blissful ignorance of the political situation until a couple of hours before, but that would never do as a reply. “Well,” he said, straining to remember the name, and then with relief, “this Bethod could do with a rap on the knuckles.”
    “They say he has twenty thousand Northmen under his banner.” She leaned towards him. “Barbarians,” she murmured. “Savages,” she whispered. “I heard he skins his captives alive.”
    Jezal thought this was hardly suitable conversation for a young lady. “Ardee…” he began.
    “But I’m sure with men like you and my brother to protect us, we womenfolk have nothing to worry about.” And she turned and made off up the path. Jezal had to hurry once again to catch up.
    “And is that the House of the Maker?” Ardee nodded