You mad bastard! The Superior squirmed, smearing blood across the Union with his face. Youve crossed the line!
Line? Glokta spluttered with laughter. I spent the night cutting the fingers from one of my friends and killing another, and you dare to talk to me about lines? He pushed open the lid of the case and his instruments offered themselves up. The only line that matters is the one that separates the strong from the weak. The man who asks the questions from the man who answers them. There are no other lines.
He leaned forward and ground the tip of his finger into the side of Goyles skull. Thats all in your head! The manacles, if you please.
Eh? Cosca looked to the fat mercenary, and the man shrugged, the blurred tattoos on his thick neck squirming.
Pffft, said the dwarf. Boil-face was silent. The one-handed mercenary had pulled down his mask and was busy picking his nose with his hook.
Glokta arched his back and gave a heavy sigh. There really is no replacement for experienced help. Then I suppose we must improvise. He scooped up a dozen long nails and scattered them jingling across the table-top. He slid out the hammer, its polished head shining. I think you can see where were going with this.
No. No! We can work something out, we can Glokta pressed the point of one nail into Goyles wrist. Ah! Wait! Wait
Would you be good enough to hold this? I have only one hand to spare.
Cosca took the nail gingerly between finger and thumb. Mind where you aim with the hammer, though, eh?
Dont worry. I am quite precise. An awful lot of practice.
Wait! screeched Goyle.
The hammer made three metallic clicks, almost disappointingly quiet, as it drove the nail cleanly between the bones of Goyles forearm and into the table beneath. He roared with pain, spraying bloody spit over the table.
Oh, come now, Superior, compared to what you did to your prisoners in Angland this is really quite infantile. Try to pace yourself. If you scream like that now, youll have nowhere to go later. The fat mercenary seized Goyles other wrist in his pudgy hands and dragged it out across the map of the Union.
Nail? asked Cosca, raising an eyebrow.
Youre getting the hang of it.
Wait! Ah! Wait!
Why? This is the closest Ive come to enjoying myself in six years. Dont begrudge me my little moment. I get so very few of them. Glokta raised the hammer.
Wait!
Click. Goyle roared with pain again. Click. And again. Click. The nail was through, and the one-time scourge of Anglands penal colonies was pinned flat by both arms. I suppose thats where ambition gets you without the talent. Humility is easier to teach than one would think. All it takes to puncture our arrogance is a nail or two in the right place. Goyles breath hissed through his bloody teeth, pinioned fingers clawing at the wood. Glokta disapprovingly shook his head. I would stop struggling if I was you. Youll only tear the flesh.
Youll pay for this, you crippled bastard! Dont think you wont!
Oh, Ive paid already. Glokta turned his neck around in a slow circle, trying to make the grumbling muscles in his shoulders unclench just a fraction. I was kept, I am not sure for how long, but I would guess at several months, in a cell no bigger than a chest of drawers. Far too small to stand, or even to sit up straight in. Every possible position twisted, bent, agonising. Hundreds of interminable hours in the pitch darkness, the stifling heat. Kneeling in a stinking slurry of my own shit, wriggling, and squirming, and gasping for air. Begging for water which my jailers let drip down through a grate above. Sometimes they would piss through it, and I would be grateful. I have never stood up straight since. I really have no idea how I remained sane. Glokta thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. Perhaps I didnt. In any case, these are the kind of sacrifices I have made. What sacrifices will you make, just to keep Sults secrets?
No answer but the blood running out from under Goyles forearms, pooling around the glittering stone that marked the House of Questions in the city of Keln.
Huh. Glokta gripped his cane hard and leaned down to whisper in Goyles ear. Theres a little bit of flesh, between your fruits and your arsehole. You never really see it, unless youre a contortionist, or unnaturally fond of mirrors. You know the one Im talking about. Men spend hours thinking about the area in front of it, and almost as long on the area behind, but that little patch of flesh? Unfairly ignored. He scooped up a few nails and jingled them gently in Goyles face. I mean to set that right, today. Im going to start there, and work outwards, and believe me, once Im done, youll be thinking about that patch of flesh for the rest of your life. Or youll be thinking about where it used to be, at least. Practical Cosca, would you be kind enough to help the Superior out of his trousers?
The University! bellowed Goyle. He had a sheen of sweat all over his balding head. Sult! Hes in the University!
So soon? Almost disappointing. But then few bullies take a beating well. Whats he doing there, at a time like this?
I I dont
Not good enough. Trousers, please.
Silber! Hes with Silber!
Glokta frowned. The University Administrator?
Goyles eyes darted from Glokta, to Cosca, and back again. He squeezed them shut. The Adeptus Demonic!
There was a long pause. The what?
Silber, he doesnt just run the University! He conducts experiments.
Experiments of what nature? Glokta jabbed sharply at Goyles bloody face with the head of the hammer. Before I nail your tongue to the table.
Occult experiments! Sult has been giving him money, for a long time! Since the First of the Magi came calling! Before, maybe!
Occult experiments? Funding from the Arch Lector? It hardly seems Sults style, but it explains why those damn Adepti were expecting money from me when I first visited the place. And why Vitari and her circus have set up shop there now. What experiments?
Silber he can make contact with the Other Side!
What?
Its true! I have seen it! He can learn things, secrets, there is no other way of knowing, and now
Yes?
He says he has found a way to bring them through!
Them?
The Tellers of Secrets, he calls them!
Glokta licked at his dry lips. Demons? I thought his Eminence had no patience with superstition, when all this time The nerve of the man!
He can send them against his enemies, he says. Against the Arch Lectors enemies! They are ready to do it!
Glokta felt his left eye twitching, and he pressed the back of his hand against it. A year ago I would have laughed to my boots and nailed him to the ceiling. But things are different, now. We passed inside the House of the Maker. We saw Shickel smile as she burned. If there are Eaters? If there are Magi? Why should there not be demons? How could there not be? What enemies?
The High Justice! The First of the Magi! Goyle squeezed his eyes shut again. The king, he whimpered.
Ahhhh. The. King. Those two little words are my kind of magic. Glokta turned to Ardee, and showed her the yawning gap in his front teeth. Would you be so kind as to prepare a Paper of Confession?
Would I She stared at him for a moment, eyes wide in her pale face, then hurried to the Arch Lectors desk, snatched up a sheet of paper and a pen, dipped it rattling in a bottle of ink. She paused, her hand trembling. What should I write?