The Trouble with Peace (The Age of Madness #2) - Joe Abercrombie Page 0,160

you had thought. She knew how it felt. “I… demand—”

Her fist thudded into his ribs and he gave a breathy grunt, eyes bulging. No doubt, safe in the armour of his wealth and status, he’d always thought himself a strong man. Now, surrounded by Practicals and with all his armour stripped away, he learned how strong he really was. Her other fist sank into his side and he twisted over, groaning, his loincloth slipping off, leaving him stark naked and helpless on the bench.

“Names!” She climbed on top of him, knee in his back, the smacks and thuds of her punches falling dead on the steamy air.

“Names!” He gasped and gurgled, tried to curl up into a ball, and she leaned over and punched him in the arse, caught his fruits and made him howl.

“Names, fucker!”

“Isher!” he squealed, sobbing. “It was all Isher’s idea!” He talked so fast he was almost sick, the names tumbling over each other. “Isher and Barezin! They brought Brock in! And Brock brought Stour Nightfall, and that woman Rikke, the Dogman’s daughter! Lots of others on the Open Council. There’s Lady Wetterlant, and… and…”

“What’s happened to the world?” whispered Brint as he watched Heugen spill his guts with a look of disbelieving contempt.

“Far as I can tell, it’s always been like this.” Vick jerked her head towards the Practical. “Get him to the House of Questions. See what else he knows.”

“Wait!” slobbered Heugen as he was dragged out by the wrist, trying to cover his prick with his other hand. “I can be useful!” He clutched at the archway. “Please! No!” With an annoyed grunt, the Practical ripped him free and he was gone.

“Have to say I’m surprised it was you.” Vick frowned over at Lord Marshal Brint. “Always took you for an honourable man.”

“Why do you think I did it? We’re supposed to be a Union!” He roared the last word with sudden anger, clenching his one fist, and Vick stepped back, watchful. She reckoned him far more dangerous than Heugen, however many limbs he was missing.

But all he did was sag back against the tiles. “I fought the Northmen in the High Places, you know. Held my best friend while he died. Then again at Osrung. Lost my arm there. Lost my wife there.” And he looked down at the ring on his little finger. A woman’s ring with a yellow stone. “I gave my whole life for the Union. For the idea that we stand together. Then they attacked our Protectorate. Land the king had sworn to defend. And what did we do? Nothing.” He said the word as if he couldn’t believe it. “We left Lady Finree and our brothers in Angland to fend for themselves. And why? So we could make a few more payments to the Banking House of Valint and Balk? The Closed Council sold our principles for a few marks. And they dare talk of treason?”

He looked up at her with weary eyes. “None of this will make any difference. The noblemen are already out of your reach, gathering their forces. The Young Lion is on his way. He’ll put things right again.”

Vick gave a snort. “You should tell the folk I saw die in the camps how right things used to be. You’re going to shed a sea of blood, and the best you’ll manage is to swap one set of bastards for another. Principles? I’d laugh if I had the stomach.” She frowned down at his hand. “Now give me that ring.”

“Inquisitor Teufel.” Glokta smiled up, showing the yawning gap in his front teeth. “Thank you for coming.”

It only occurred to her then that she could’ve stayed away. Could’ve ignored him. But obedience can be a hard habit to break. Ask any dog.

“Of course.” She sat stiffly on the bench where they had met before, more than once. It took an effort not to add Your Eminence.

She had never seen him without his white robes, his ring of office, his black-clad entourage. The awe-inspiring Arch Lector had become, overnight, a withered old man, heavily wrapped up even in the summer warmth, attended by just the one huge Practical who used to push his chair, awkward in simple footman’s clothes and with a rash about his mouth from the mask he no longer wore. Glokta had been her saviour, her mentor, her master, her jailer. She wondered what they were now, without the office and the great desk and the vast difference in power? Friends? She