Guards of Haven: The Adventures of Hawk and Fisher (Hawk & Fisher) (10 page)

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Authors: Simon R. Green

BOOK: Guards of Haven: The Adventures of Hawk and Fisher (Hawk & Fisher)
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The butler led Hawk and Fisher down a stylishly appointed passage and ushered them into a large and spacious drawing room. Early morning light streamed through the immaculately polished windows, reflecting brightly from the pure white of the stonework, illuminating the room like a vision of paradise. The whole ceiling was covered with a single delightful piece of art depicting nymphs and shepherds at play. In a romantic and extremely tasteful way, of course. Everywhere there were luxurious chairs and couches, fine displays of wines and spirits, silver trays bearing all kinds of cold food, and every other comfort the mind could imagine. Hawk did his best to look unimpressed.
Standing with his back to the roaring fire was a tall, well-built young man with broad shoulders and a barrel chest. He couldn’t have been more than twenty, and his unruly mop of tawny hair made him look even younger. Nevertheless, there was a dignity and strength in his stance, and a composure in his face, that was quietly impressive. Hawk didn’t need Greaves to tell him this was their host, Jamie MacNeil. The MacNeil, as he now was. He was dressed all in black, being still in mourning for his father, but the clothes were of the finest cut and impeccably fashionable. He stepped forward as the butler introduced them, and greeted his two cousins warmly, kissing Isobel’s hand with style, and shaking Hawk’s hand in a grip that was firm without being overbearing. He gestured for the butler to leave them, and Greaves bowed and backed out, closing the door after him. Jamie led Hawk and Fisher over to the drinks cabinet and politely enquired as to their pleasure. He seemed genuinely pleased to see them, and yet somehow preoccupied, as though part of his attention was always somewhere else.
“So good of you to come,” he said graciously. “Did you have a good journey?”
“Bearable,” said Hawk, accepting his drink with a nod. “We left our belongings in Haven, ghastly place, and came straight here. Though I gather from your butler that we may have arrived at a bad time ... he said something about all the servants leaving?”
Jamie MacNeil smiled easily, but Hawk could see the effort it took. “Just a minor domestic crisis, but I’m afraid we’re all going to have to rough it for the moment. Please accept my apologies, and bear with us. Do feel free to stay for as long as you wish: there are plenty of spare bedrooms, and Haven’s inns are notoriously unsafe.”
“That’s very kind of you,” said Hawk.
“Not at all, not at all. I’ll just let Greaves know, and he’ll prepare rooms for you and your sister.”
He reached for the bell pull by the fireplace, but had barely taken hold of it when the door swung open and Greaves entered. Hawk blinked bemusedly at such a quick response, and then smiled slightly as Greaves stepped to one side and two ladies of the Quality swept in, not even deigning to notice the butler’s bow. Jamie smiled at them both, a genuine smile full of warmth and affection, and more than a little concern. Hawk sipped his wine thoughtfully as Jamie spoke quietly to the butler. He was beginning to get a bad feeling about Tower MacNeil. Something was going on here; something he was beginning to suspect had nothing to do with the spy Fenris. He took a healthy gulp of his wine, careful to keep his little finger crooked. On the other hand, he could just be getting paranoid. If Jamie MacNeil knew about the spy, then getting rid of a bunch of gossiping servants was a sensible precaution. But according to Greaves, the servants had left some time ago, long before Fenris could have arrived.... Hawk quickly put the thought to one side for later consideration as Jamie dismissed the butler and turned to him and Fisher.
“Dear cousins, allow me to present my sister Holly, and my aunt, Katrina Dorimant.”
Hawk bowed and the women curtsied, Fisher with more efficiency than grace. Holly MacNeil was a blazing redhead in her late twenties, almost as tall as her brother, but as slightly built as he was broad. Hawk’s first thought was that the poor lass could do with a good meal or two. Her pale face was gaunt and strained, though still attractive, her large green eyes giving her an innocent, vulnerable look, like a young fawn suddenly confronted with a pack of wolves. Whatever was going on at Tower MacNeil, it was clear she knew about it too. Like her brother, Holly MacNeil was formally but stylishly dressed in black, which against the paleness of her skin only served to emphasize her frailty. She offered Hawk a trembling hand, and he had to steady it with his own before he could kiss it. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before releasing it, and thought he glimpsed a quick smile. Holly and Fisher embraced each other briefly. There was no warmth in it, and Holly held the contact only as long as convention demanded.
Jamie’s aunt, Katrina Dorimant, was a roguishly attractive woman in her mid-forties, with a broad grin and flashing eyes. She wore a long, wine-red gown, and enough jewellery to finance a minor war or two. She was average height, with a tight, compact body and a brisk, captivating manner. She smiled widely at Hawk as he kissed her hand, and her eyes lingered on him for a long moment before she turned to embrace Fisher. Once again the embrace was over almost as soon as it had begun, and the two women exchanged a cool, appraising look before dismissing each other with averted eyes. Hawk hid a smile. Fisher had better keep her guard up. Katrina looked like a scrapper.
“Welcome to Tower MacNeil!” said Katrina brightly. “I’m so glad you’re here. We need some new blood to stir things up. The place has been awfully gloomy just lately, though I can’t think why. Dear Duncan never approved of sour faces when he was alive, and he certainly wouldn’t have expected us to wander around sobbing and beating our breasts just because he’s dead.”
“You never did believe in tears or regrets, did you, Aunt?” said Holly flatly.
“Certainly not. They make your eyes puffy and give you wrinkles.”
“Are you here for the reading of the will?” asked Fisher politely.
“Actually, no, my dear. I’m currently separated from my husband, bad cess to the man, and dear Jamie has been kind enough to allow me to stay here until the divorce is finalized.”
“I had in mind a few weeks, Auntie,” said Jamie goodnaturedly. “In actual fact, you’ve been here five months now.”
“Don’t exaggerate, dear. It’s four and a bit.”
“Are we the only guests?” said Hawk. “I can’t believe we’re the only Family come to pay our respects to the MacNeil.”
“There are other guests,” said Jamie. “They’re upstairs in their rooms at present, but they’ll be joining us for a late breakfast soon. We keep very relaxed hours here, especially since the servants left. But it must be said there aren’t nearly as many Family here as one might have wished for.”
“Why not?” asked Fisher bluntly.
The three MacNeils exchanged a quick glance. “I take it you’ve never heard of the MacNeil Curse,” said Jamie slowly. “Not really surprising, I suppose, buried as you are in the depths of Lower Markham. It’s not something we’re proud of, and we don’t care to discuss it with outsiders. But since you are both Family, and you’ve come all this way to be here ... The Curse is the reason why so few have come to pay their respects, even with the reading of the will to tempt them. It’s why the servants ran away, and why the Quality no longer accept invitations to Tower MacNeil. Please, be seated, all of you, and I’ll tell you of the secret Shame of the MacNeils, and how it has come back to haunt us. I think it’s time for the truth.”
Everyone found themselves chairs, and drew them up in a semicircle facing the fireplace. Jamie stayed where he was, with his back to the fire, standing almost to attention, with his hands clasped behind his back, so the others wouldn’t see them shaking. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and even and very controlled.
“Most people have heard something about the Curse of the MacNeils. That there is a monster which haunts us, and has done for generations. There have been many songs about it, and even one or two plays. Romantic fictions, all of them. We don’t object; they help conceal the reality behind the myth. There is a Secret in our Family, handed down from father to eldest son alone, from generation to generation.
“Long ago, in the days before proper records were kept, a child was born to the MacNeils, to the head of the Family at that time. That child was the eldest son, destined to continue the Family bloodline. Unfortunately, he was also horribly deformed. He should have been killed at birth, but the MacNeil was a kind and tender-hearted man. The creature was, after all, his son. Perhaps a cure could be found. The MacNeil all but bankrupted the Family trying to find it, paying for doctors and sorcerers and healers of all kinds, but no cure was ever found.
“The creature became increasingly violent, and eventually had to be put away, for everyone’s safety. The MacNeil took full responsibility for his awful son, and none of the Family or servants ever saw it again. Finally, some years later, the creature died, and everyone heaved a sigh of relief. The normal second son became the eldest son, the bloodline continued through him, and everything returned to normal.
“That is not the Secret. The songs and the romances and the plays are based loosely on what I have just told you, and from those distorted stories come the vague rumours that most people mean when they refer to the Curse of the MacNeils. The Secret, handed down from father to eldest son, is very simple. The creature did not die.
“The MacNeil had finally despaired of his monstrous son, and decided it should die, to free the Family of its burden. He gave the creature poison to drink, and walled up its room. He and the second son did the job themselves, rather than risk bringing in workmen or servants who might have talked. And all the time they laboured with bricks and mortar, they could hear the creature pacing restlessly back and forth in its cell. The poison did not kill it. Time and again the MacNeil and his son returned to listen at the wall they’d built, but though the creature had no access to food or water, still it lived. They could hear it moving about in its cell, and sometimes scratching at the walls.
“Years passed. The MacNeil died, and later so did his son, but the creature lived on. No one ever knew of its existence save the head of the Family and the eldest son, the Secret passing from generation to generation to generation when the son reached his majority. And so it went, down all the many years.
“Only this time, something went wrong. My father passed on the Secret to his eldest son, my brother William. But William died just three weeks ago, in a riding accident, and then my father was killed in a border clash, before he could pass on the details of the Secret to me. I was able to piece together what I’ve just told you from studying his papers after his death, but that’s as far as his notes go. Presumably there are other papers somewhere, prepared in case of an emergency, but I’ve been unable to find them,. No doubt Dad would have got around to telling me where they were, just in case ... but who would ever have thought he’d die so suddenly....”
Jamie stopped abruptly as his voice broke. Holly rose quickly from her seat and moved forward to hug her brother’s arm protectively.
“Is that why the servants left?” said Hawk. “Because the Secret got out?”
Jamie shook his head. “Not long after Dad died, the servants began seeing things. A dark figure, padding through the corridors late at night, or in the early hours of the morning. It always disappeared when challenged. I had the Tower searched from top to bottom by my security people, but they never found anyone. Then, things started to be broken. Vases, glasses, crockery. A chair was found smashed to pieces. Noises were heard at night; something that might have been screams, or laughter. My people began to leave, despite all I could offer them in the way of money or reassurances.
“Even my security people wouldn’t stay. They all thought it was the ghost of my father, come back to haunt the Tower. Only I knew better. After all these years, the creature had finally got out. Obviously some part of the Secret dealt with how to keep it confined, and since I didn’t know what to do ... So far, it hasn’t been able to leave Tower MacNeil; the Tower’s protective wards see to that.”
“Why haven’t you called in the city Guard?” asked Fisher. “Maybe their experts could find the creature....”
“No!” said Jamie sharply. “This is Family business, and it has to stay within the Family. If the Secret ever gets out, the whole world will know the MacNeil Family is based on a lie. That all of us are descended from a second son. The Quality would declare that we had betrayed our bloodline and inheritance, and the MacNeils would be disgraced. Already there are rumours. That’s why so few Family have come to declare their fealty to me.”
“Apart from us, who else knows the Secret?” said Hawk.
“Just Greaves, my immediate Family, and my other guests, so far.”
“This ... creature,” said Fisher slowly. “Has it tried to hurt anyone?”
“Not so far,” said Jamie. “But it is getting more destructive. Why? Do you want to leave?”
Hawk smiled slightly. “I don’t think so. Isobel and I don’t scare easily.”
Katrina stirred in her chair. “I can’t believe Duncan kept the Secret so long. I had no idea ... You’re quite right, of course, Jamie. The Secret must never get out. We would be ostracised in High Society. Now then, the creature undoubtedly hides by day in the room that used to be its cell. Are you still unable to locate it?”
“I’m afraid so.” Jamie’s brow furrowed, and he ran a hand through his hair. “The Tower is riddled with secret passages and sliding panels. I know some of them, and Dad’s papers revealed a few more, but I still haven’t been able to find where the creature is hiding. Presumably the room’s location was part of the Secret.”

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