I did not declare myself King of anything. The title was given to me by men who needed a figurehead, and I let them use it because it frightened the people in London, and frightening the people in London was the only power I had left.
The map on my wall showed the Five Northern Towns. Each one marked with a pin: the mill that closed, the mine that flooded, the school that had no heat. I moved pins around the way a general moves armies, except I was not a general. I was a gamekeeper who had killed a man in a drunken argument and spent the next seven years building something the killed man would have understood: a place where...
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