Before They Are Hanged

bitter, even for autumn.
    â€œWill you
take wine, Lord Marshal?â€

Questions
    To
Sand dan Glokta,
    Superior
of Dagoska, and for his eyes alone.
    You
will take ship immediately, and assume command of the Inquisition in
the city of Dagoska. You will establish what became of your
predecessor, Superior Davoust. You will investigate his suspicion
that a conspiracy is afoot, perhaps in the city’s ruling
council itself. You will examine the members of that council, and
uproot any and all disloyalty. Punish treason with scant mercy, but
ensure that your evidence is sound. We can afford no further
blunders.
    Gurkish
soldiers already crowd to the peninsula, ready to exploit any
weakness. The King’s regiments are fully committed in Angland,
so you can expect little help should the Gurkish attack. You will
therefore ensure that the defences of the city are strong, and that
provisions are sufficient to withstand any siege. You will keep me
informed of your progress in regular letters. Above all, you will
ensure that Dagoska does not, under any circumstances, fall into the
hands of the Gurkish.
    Do not
fail me.
    Sult
    Arch
Lector of his Majesty’s Inquisition.
    Glokta folded
the letter carefully and slipped it back into his pocket, checking
once again that the King’s writ was safe beside it. Damn
thing. The big document had been weighing heavily in his coat
ever since the Arch Lector passed it to him. He pulled it out and
turned it over in his hands, the gold leaf on the big red seal
glittering in the harsh sunlight. A single sheet of paper, yet
worth more than gold. Priceless. With this, I speak with the King’s
own voice. I am the most powerful man in Dagoska, greater even than
the Lord Governor himself. All must hear me and obey. As long as I
can stay alive, that is.
    The voyage had
not been a pleasant one. The ship was small and the Circle Sea had
been rough on the way over. Glokta’s own cabin was tiny, hot
and close as an oven. An oven swaying wildly all day and all
night. If he had not been trying to eat gruel with the bowl
slopping crazily around, he had been vomiting back up those small
amounts he had actually managed to swallow. But at least below decks
there was no chance of his useless leg giving way and dumping him
over the side into the sea. Yes, the voyage has hardly been
pleasant.
    But now the
voyage was over. The ship was already slipping up to its mooring in
amongst the crowded wharves. The sailors were already struggling with
the anchor, throwing ropes on to the dock. Now the gangplank was
sliding across from ship to dusty shore.
    â€œRight,â€

The Wounds of the Past
    â€œThe
mistakes of old,â€

The Condition of the Defences
    To
Arch Lector Sult,
    Head
of his Majesty’s Inquisition.
    Your
Eminence,
    I have
acquainted the members of Dagoska’s ruling council with my
mission. You will not be surprised to learn that they are less than
delighted at the sudden reduction in their powers. My investigation
into the disappearance of Superior Davoust is already underway, and I
feel confident that results will not be long in coming. I will be
appraising the city’s defences as soon as possible, and will
take any and all steps necessary to ensure that Dagoska is
impregnable.
    You
will hear from me soon. Until then, I serve and obey.
    Sand
dan Glokta,
    Superior
of Dagoska.
    The sun pressed
down on the crumbling battlements like a great weight. It pressed
through Glokta’s hat and onto his stooped head. It pressed
through Glokta’s black coat and onto his twisted shoulders. It
threatened to squeeze the water right out of him, squash the life
right out of him, crush him to his knees. A cool autumn morning in
charming Dagoska.
    While the sun
attacked him from above, the salt wind came at him head on. It swept
in off the empty sea and over the bare peninsula, hot and full of
choking dust, blasting the land walls of the city and scouring
everything with salty grit. It stung at Glokta’s sweaty skin,
whipped the moisture from his mouth, tickled at his eyes and made
them weep stinging tears. Even the weather wants to be rid of me,
it would seem.
    Practical Vitari
teetered along the parapet beside him, arms outstretched like a
circus performer on the high rope. Glokta frowned up at her, a gangly
black shape against the brilliant sky. She could just as easily
walk down here, and stop making a spectacle of herself. But at least
this way there