Swords of Haven: The Adventures of Hawk & Fisher (32 page)

BOOK: Swords of Haven: The Adventures of Hawk & Fisher
8.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Medley brought in some more chairs, and Dannielle bustled around making sure that everyone was comfortably seated and had a brimming glass of wine in their hand.
“How do you feel about this place?” Hawk asked her politely.
“Ghastly old heap. Smells of damp, and half the time the toilets don’t work properly.”
“Your garden’s not up to much, either,” said Fisher. Hawk winced.
Dannielle and Adamant shared a look, their faces suddenly grim.
“We have enemies, Captain Fisher,” said Adamant evenly. “Enemies not averse to using sorcery, when they can get away with it. Three days ago we had a splendid garden. Fine lawns, well-tended flower beds, and a magnificent old apple tree. And now it’s all gone. Nothing will grow there. It’s not safe even to walk far from the path. There are things moving in the dead earth. I think they come out at night, sometimes. No one’s ever seen them, but come the morning there are scratches on the door and shutters that weren’t there the night before.”
There was a cold silence for a moment.
“It’s illegal for political candidates to use sorcery in any form,” said Hawk finally. “Directly or indirectly. If you can prove Hardcastle was responsible ...”
“There’s no proof,” said Dannielle. “He’s too clever for that.”
There was another silence.
“You made good time in getting here,” said Medley brightly. “I only put in my request for you this morning.”
Hawk looked at him. “You asked for us specifically?”
“Well, yes. James has many enemies. I wanted the best people I could get as his bodyguards. You and your partner have an excellent reputation, Captain Hawk.”
“That isn’t always enough,” said Fisher. “The last time we got involved with guarding a politician, the man died.”
“We know about Councillor Blackstone,” said Medley. “It wasn’t your fault he died; you’d done everything you reasonably could to protect him. And you found his murderer, long after any other Guards would have given up.”
Hawk looked at Adamant. “Are you happy with this arrangement, sir Adamant? It’s not too late for you to find somebody else.”
“I trust my Advisor,” said Adamant. “When it comes to picking the right people for a job, his judgement is impeccable. Stefan knows about such things. Now then, if you and your partner are going to be spending some time with us, I’d better bring you up to date on what’s happening in the election. What kind of things do you need to know, Captain Hawk?”
“Everything,” said Hawk flatly. “Who your enemies are, what kind of opposition you’ll be facing. Anything that might give us an edge.”
Dannielle got to her feet. “If you’re going to get all technical, I think I’ll go and see how dinner’s coming along.”
“Now, Danny, you promised you wouldn’t bother the cook anymore,” said Adamant. “You know she hates people looking over her shoulder.”
“For what we’re paying her, she can put up with a little criticism,” said Dannielle calmly. She smiled graciously at Hawk and Fisher, and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
“Now then,” said Adamant, leaning comfortably back in his chair. “When you get right down to it, there are only two main parties: Conservative and Reform. But there’s also a handful of fringe parties, and a few well-supported independents, just to complicate things. There’s Free Trade, the Brotherhood of Steel, No Tax on Liquor (also known as the Who’s for a Party Party), and various pressure groups, such as the Trade Guilds and some of the better organised militant religions.”
“The Conservatives are the main threat,” said Medley. “They’ve got the most money. Free Trade is mainly a merchants‘ party. They make a lot of speeches, but they’re short on popular support. Mostly they end up throwing their weight behind the Conservatives. No Tax on Liquor is the Lord Sinclair’s personal party. He funds it and runs it, practically single-handed. There are always people willing to go along with him, if only for the free booze he dishes out. He’s harmless, apart from this one bee in his bonnet. The Trade Guilds mean well, but they’re too disor ganised to mount any real threat to the Conservatives, and they know it. Usually they end up working hand-in-hand with Reform. That’s where a lot of our funding comes from.”
“What about the Brotherhood of Steel?” said Fisher. “I always thought they were more mystical than political.”
“The two are pretty much the same in Haven,” said Adamant. “Power and religion have always gone hand-in-hand here. Luckily most of the Beings on the Street of Gods are more interested in feuding with each other than getting involved in the day-to-day politics of running Haven. The Beings have always been great ones for feuds. But, over the past few years the Brotherhood of Steel has changed its ways. They’re nowhere near as insular as they used to be; they’re much better organised, and just lately a militant branch has started flexing its political muscle. They’ve even got a candidate standing in this election. He won’t win; they’re not that strong yet. But they could be a deciding factor in who does win.”
Hawk frowned. “Who would they be most likely to side with?”
“Good question,” said Medley. “I can think of any number of political fixers who’d pay good money for the answer. I don’t know, Captain Hawk. Ordinarily I’d have said the Conservatives, but the Brotherhood’s mystical bent confuses the hell out of me. I don’t trust fanatics. There’s no telling which way they’ll jump when the pressure’s on.”
“All right,” said Hawk. “Now that we’re clear on that ...”
“Speak for yourself,” muttered Fisher.
“... perhaps you could explain exactly what’s at stake in this election. A lot of people have been saying Reform could end up dominating the Council, even if the Conservatives still hold most of the Seats. I don’t get that.”
“It’s really very simple,” said Adamant, and Hawk’s heart sank. Whenever people said that, it always meant things were about to become very, very complicated. Adamant steepled his fingers, and studied them thoughtfully. “There are twenty-one Seats on the Council, representing the various districts of Haven. After the last election, Reform held four Seats, the Conservatives held eleven, and there were six unaffiliated Seats. Which meant in practice that the Conservatives ran the Council to suit themselves. But this time there are at least three Seats that could go either way. All Reform has to do is win one extra Seat, and together with the six independents we could take control of the Council away from the Conservatives. Which is why this particular election is all set for some of the dirtiest and most vicious political infighting Haven has ever seen.”
“Great,” said Fisher. “Just what the people need. Another excuse to go crazy, riot in the streets, and set fire to things. How long is this madness going to go on for?”
“Not long,” said Medley, smiling. “After the result has been announced this evening, there will be general fighting and dancing in the streets, followed by the traditional fireworks display and the paying off of old scores by the victorious party. After that, Haven will go deathly quiet, as everyone disappears to bind their wounds, get some sleep, and nurse their hangovers. Not necessarily in that order. Everything clear now?”
“Almost,” said Hawk. “What are we doing here?”
Adamant looked at Medley, and then back at Hawk. “I understood you’d been told. You and your partner are here to act as my bodyguards until the election is over.”
“You don’t need us for that,” said Hawk flatly. “You’ve got armed men at your gates, and probably quite a few more scattered around the house. And if you’d still felt the need for a professional bodyguard, there are any number of agencies in Haven that could have provided you with one. But you asked for us, specifically, despite our record. Why us, Adamant? What can we do for you that your own men can’t?”
Adamant leaned back in his chair, and some of his strength seemed to go out of him for a moment, only to return again as he lifted his eyes and met Hawk’s gaze squarely. “Two main reasons, Captain Hawk. Firstly, there have been death threats made against me and my wife. Quite nasty threats. Normally I wouldn’t worry too much. Elections always bring out the cranks. But I have reason to believe that these threats may be genuine. There have been three separate attempts on my life already, all of them quite professional. Stefan tells me there are whispers that the attacks were sanctioned by Councillor Hardcastle himself.
“Secondly, it seems I have a traitor among my people. Someone has been leaking information, important information, about my comings and goings, and my security arrangements. That person has also been embezzling money from my campaign funds. According to Stefan’s investigations, it’s been going on for some months; small amounts at first, but growing larger all the time. What evidence we have been able to piece together suggests that traitor has to be someone fairly close to me; my friends, my servants, my fellow campaign workers. Someone I trusted has betrayed me. I want you two to act as my bodyguard, and identify the traitor.”
Out in the hall, a woman screamed. Hawk and Fisher surged to their feet, reaching for their weapons. The scream came again, and was suddenly cut short.
“Danny!” Adamant jumped up from his chair and ran for the door. Hawk got there first, and yanked the door open. Out in the hall it was raining blood. Thick crimson gobbets materialised near the ceiling and poured down with unrelenting ferocity. The walls ran with blood, and the rugs were already soaked. The stench was sickening.
Dannielle had been caught halfway up the stairs. She was drenched in blood. Her dress was ruined, and thick rivulets of gore ran out of her matted hair and down her face. She ran down the stairs to Adamant, and he held her in his arms, glaring about him through the pouring blood. Hawk and Fisher stood back to back in the middle of the hall, weapons at the ready, but there was only the blood, streaming down around them, thick and heavy. Medley flailed about him with his arms, as though trying to swat the falling drops of blood like flies.
“Get your wife out of here!” Hawk yelled to Adamant. “This is sorcerer’s work!”
Adamant started to hurry Dannielle towards the front door, and then stopped short as a dark shape began to materialise between them and the door. The falling blood ran together, drop joining with drop, to form the beginnings of a body. In the space of a few moments it grew arms, and legs and a hunched misshapen body. It stood something like a man, but the proportions were all wrong. It had huge teeth and claws, and swirling dark clots of blood where its eyes should have been. It moved slowly towards its prey, its body heaving and swelling with every movement.
Hawk stepped forward and cut at it with his axe. The heavy steel blade sliced through the creature’s neck and out again without slowing, sending a wave of blood splashing against the wall. The creature stood its ground, unaffected. It was only blood, nothing more. Its substance ran away onto the floor, but more blood continued falling from the ceiling to replenish it.
Hawk and Fisher both cut at the figure, and it laughed silently at them. It lashed out at Hawk with a dripping arm. Hawk braced himself and met the blow with his axe, but even so, the impact sent him staggering backwards. The creature had weight and substance, when it chose to. It started towards Hawk, ignoring Fisher’s attempts to draw its attention to her. It struck at Hawk again, and he ducked under the blow at the last moment. Its claws dug ragged furrows in the wall panelling. Hawk scuttled away from the creature, snarling curses at the thing as it turned to follow him.
“Right,” he said breathlessly, “that’s it. We’re no match for this kind of magic. Adamant, get your people together and then herd them out the back door. We’ll try and buy you some time. Most sendings can’t travel far from where they materialise. Maybe we can outrun the bloody thing.”
Adamant nodded quickly, and urged his wife down the hall away from the creature. The rain of blood suddenly increased, pouring down even more thickly than before. Through the crimson haze, Hawk could just make out a second shape beginning to form between them and the other exit. Hawk wiped blood from his face, and took a firmer grip on his axe.
He heard Fisher’s warning scream behind him, and had just started to turn when the first blood-creature swept over him like a wave and all the world went red. As the creature enveloped him, he staggered back a pace, scrabbling frantically at the blood that covered his face, cutting off his air. Fisher was quickly at his side, trying to wipe the blood away from his nose and mouth, but it resisted her efforts and clung to his face like taffy. Hawk fell forward onto his hands and knees, shaking his head frantically as his lungs screamed for air. He caught a glimpse of Adamant hovering before him, and gestured weakly for him to make a run for the front door while he had the chance. Adamant hesitated; then lifting his head, he raised his voice in a carrying shout:
“Mortice! Help us!”
A blast of freezing air suddenly swept through the hall, a bitter icy wind that froze the falling blood into shimmering scarlet crystals. The creature enveloping Hawk cracked apart around him and fell away in hundreds of crimson slivers. He stayed hunched on his knees for a moment, gratefully drawing the icy air into his lungs, then rose slowly to his feet and looked around him. The bloody rain had stopped, and the hall was covered in a sheen of crimson ice. Fisher was standing nearby, beating scarlet ice from her cloak. Adamant, Medley, and Dannielle looked shocked but otherwise unhurt. Beyond them stood the second blood-creature, caught half-formed by the icy wind. It stood, crouching and incomplete, like an insane sculpture carved from blood-stained ice. Hawk walked over to it and hit it once with his axe. It fell apart and littered the hall floor with jagged shards of crimson ice. Hawk kicked a few of them around, just to be sure, and then turned to face Adamant.

Other books

Sweet Discipline by Bonnie Hamre
Bonfire Masquerade by Franklin W. Dixon
Discourses and Selected Writings by Epictetus, Robert Dobbin
Third Grave Dead Ahead by Jones, Darynda
Persephone by Bevis, Kaitlin
Beautifully Destroyed by Love, Sandra
Unknown Futures by Jessica E. Subject
The Scent of the Night by Andrea Camilleri
Greenville by Dale Peck
Wilde Chase by Susan Hayes