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 towards the grim outline of the huge tower.
‘Why, yes it is.’
‘Does no one go inside?’
‘No one. Not in my lifetime anyway. The bridge is kept behind lock and key.’ He frowned up at the tower. Seemed strange now, that he never thought about it. Living in the Agriont, it was always there. You just got used to it somehow. ‘The place is sealed, I believe.’
‘Sealed?’ Ardee moved very close to him. Jezal glanced around nervously but nobody was looking. ‘Isn’t it strange that nobody goes in there? Isn’t it a mystery?’ He could almost feel her breath on his neck, ‘I mean to say, why not just break the door down?’
Jezal was finding it horribly difficult to concentrate with her so close. He wondered for a moment, both frightening and exciting, whether she might be flirting with him? No, no, of course not! Just not used to the city was all. The artless ways of a country girl . . . but then she was very close. If only she were a little less attractive or a little less confident. If only she were a little less . . . West’s sister.
He coughed and looked off down the path, hoping vainly for a distraction. There were a few people moving along it, but no one that he recognised, unless . . . Ardee’s spell was suddenly broken, and Jezal felt his skin go cold. A hunched figure, overdressed on this sunny day, was limping toward them, leaning heavily on a cane. He was bent over and wincing with every step, the faster-moving travellers giving him a wide berth. Jezal tried to steer Ardee away before he saw them, but she resisted gracefully and made a direct line for the shambling Inquisitor.
His head snapped up as they approached and his eyes glinted with recognition. Jezal’s heart sank. There was no avoiding him now.
‘Why, Captain Luthar,’ said Glokta warmly, shuffling a little too close and shaking his hand, ‘what a pleasure! I’m surprised that Varuz has let you go so early in the day. He must be mellowing in his old age.’
‘The Lord Marshal is still most demanding,’ snapped Jezal.
‘I hope my Practicals didn’t inconvenience you the other night.’ The Inquisitor shook his head sadly. ‘They have no manners. No manners at all. But they are the very best at what they do! I swear, the King doesn’t have two more valuable servants.’
‘I suppose we all serve the King in our own way.’ There was a little more hostility in Jezal’s voice than he had intended.
If Glokta was offended he didn’t show it. ‘Quite so. I don’t believe I know your friend.’
‘No. This is—’
‘Actually, we’ve met,’ said Ardee, much to Jezal’s surprise, giving her hand to the Inquisitor. ‘Ardee West.’
Glokta’s eyebrows rose. ‘No!’ He bent down stiffly to kiss the back of her hand. Jezal saw his mouth twist as he straightened up, but the toothless grin soon returned. ‘Collem West’s sister! But you are so much changed.’
‘For the better, I hope,’ she laughed. Jezal felt horribly uncomfortable.
‘Why – yes indeed,’ said Glokta.
‘And you are changed also, Sand.’ Ardee looked suddenly very sad. ‘We were all so worried in my family. We hoped and hoped for your safe return.’ Jezal saw a spasm run over Glokta’s face. ‘Then when we heard you were hurt . . . how are you?’
The Inquisitor glanced at Jezal, his eyes cold as a slow death. Jezal stared down at his boots, a lump of fear in his throat. He had no need to be scared of this cripple, did he? But somehow he wished he was still at fencing practice. Glokta stared at Ardee, his left eye twitching slightly, and she looked back at him undaunted, her eyes full of quiet concern.
‘I am well. As well as can be expected.’ His expression had turned very strange. Jezal felt more uncomfortable than ever. ‘Thank you for asking. Truly. Nobody ever does.’
There was an
‘And is that the House of the Maker?’ Ardee nodded towards the grim outline of the huge tower.
‘Why, yes it is.’
‘Does no one go inside?’
‘No one. Not in my lifetime anyway. The bridge is kept behind lock and key.’ He frowned up at the tower. Seemed strange now, that he never thought about it. Living in the Agriont, it was always there. You just got used to it somehow. ‘The place is sealed, I believe.’
‘Sealed?’ Ardee moved very close to him. Jezal glanced around nervously but nobody was looking. ‘Isn’t it strange that nobody goes in there? Isn’t it a mystery?’ He could almost feel her breath on his neck, ‘I mean to say, why not just break the door down?’
Jezal was finding it horribly difficult to concentrate with her so close. He wondered for a moment, both frightening and exciting, whether she might be flirting with him? No, no, of course not! Just not used to the city was all. The artless ways of a country girl . . . but then she was very close. If only she were a little less attractive or a little less confident. If only she were a little less . . . West’s sister.
He coughed and looked off down the path, hoping vainly for a distraction. There were a few people moving along it, but no one that he recognised, unless . . . Ardee’s spell was suddenly broken, and Jezal felt his skin go cold. A hunched figure, overdressed on this sunny day, was limping toward them, leaning heavily on a cane. He was bent over and wincing with every step, the faster-moving travellers giving him a wide berth. Jezal tried to steer Ardee away before he saw them, but she resisted gracefully and made a direct line for the shambling Inquisitor.
His head snapped up as they approached and his eyes glinted with recognition. Jezal’s heart sank. There was no avoiding him now.
‘Why, Captain Luthar,’ said Glokta warmly, shuffling a little too close and shaking his hand, ‘what a pleasure! I’m surprised that Varuz has let you go so early in the day. He must be mellowing in his old age.’
‘The Lord Marshal is still most demanding,’ snapped Jezal.
‘I hope my Practicals didn’t inconvenience you the other night.’ The Inquisitor shook his head sadly. ‘They have no manners. No manners at all. But they are the very best at what they do! I swear, the King doesn’t have two more valuable servants.’
‘I suppose we all serve the King in our own way.’ There was a little more hostility in Jezal’s voice than he had intended.
If Glokta was offended he didn’t show it. ‘Quite so. I don’t believe I know your friend.’
‘No. This is—’
‘Actually, we’ve met,’ said Ardee, much to Jezal’s surprise, giving her hand to the Inquisitor. ‘Ardee West.’
Glokta’s eyebrows rose. ‘No!’ He bent down stiffly to kiss the back of her hand. Jezal saw his mouth twist as he straightened up, but the toothless grin soon returned. ‘Collem West’s sister! But you are so much changed.’
‘For the better, I hope,’ she laughed. Jezal felt horribly uncomfortable.
‘Why – yes indeed,’ said Glokta.
‘And you are changed also, Sand.’ Ardee looked suddenly very sad. ‘We were all so worried in my family. We hoped and hoped for your safe return.’ Jezal saw a spasm run over Glokta’s face. ‘Then when we heard you were hurt . . . how are you?’
The Inquisitor glanced at Jezal, his eyes cold as a slow death. Jezal stared down at his boots, a lump of fear in his throat. He had no need to be scared of this cripple, did he? But somehow he wished he was still at fencing practice. Glokta stared at Ardee, his left eye twitching slightly, and she looked back at him undaunted, her eyes full of quiet concern.
‘I am well. As well as can be expected.’ His expression had turned very strange. Jezal felt more uncomfortable than ever. ‘Thank you for asking. Truly. Nobody ever does.’
There was an
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