Swords of Haven: The Adventures of Hawk & Fisher (81 page)
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Authors: Simon R. Green
BOOK: Swords of Haven: The Adventures of Hawk & Fisher
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Hawk and Fisher stood back to back, swinging sword and axe with leaden arms and hammering hearts. Their breath rasped in their throats and sweat soaked their clothes. The near misses got closer all the time as the Dark Men pressed steadily forward. Blood flew on the air, and Hawk and Fisher spat curses as here and there a blow struck home. Hawk gathered the last of his strength and prepared for one final lunge to take him past the Dark Man and launch him at Bode’s throat. The odds weren’t exactly good, but what the hell. It wasn’t that far. Maybe he’d get lucky.
And then a brilliant light flared up, filling the room with its glare, and one by one the Dark Men slowed to a halt and fell heavily to the floor. Hawk looked quickly round, gasping for breath. Tomb had dragged himself across the floor, leaving a wide trail of blood behind him, and now sat propped against the wall with the Exorcist Stone in his hands. The Stone blazed like a miniature star, too bright to look at, banishing all magic from the room. Bode looked at Tomb incredulously. Tomb smiled, showing bloody teeth.
“This is for Rowan, you bastard. Hawk, kill him.”
Bode looked back at Hawk, and quickly raised his hands in the air. “I surrender, Captain.”
“Like hell,” said Hawk, and cut the sorcerer down with one blow. Bode died with the same incredulous look on his face.
“What the hell,” said Fisher, tiredly lowering her sword. “He’d only have escaped anyway.”
They put away their weapons and moved over to kneel beside Tomb. The Exorcist Stone slipped from his fingers and rolled away. Its light flickered and went out. Tomb’s face was deathly pale, the blood at his mouth stark red against the white skin. He looked across at Rowan, lying still and lifeless, and his mouth worked once.
“I loved her, you know. I really loved her.”
He closed his eyes. Hawk felt for a pulse in Tomb’s neck. It was there, but so faint he could barely feel it.
“Is he still alive?” asked Fisher quietly.
“Yeah. But don’t ask me how. You’d better go for a doctor; I’ll try and keep Tomb and Buchan comfortable till you get back.” He looked across at Rowan, and his mouth hardened. “Do you suppose she ever cared for him at all?”
“I don’t know,” said Fisher, getting to her feet. “Maybe, if things had been different ...”
“Yeah,” said Hawk. “Maybe.” He looked away. “He deserved better than her.”
And then a living Presence exploded in the room, suffusing everything with a glow of its existence. The Presence beat on the air like a giant heartbeat, or the wings of a powerful bird. A deep and desperate sorrow permeated the room, grief beyond bearing, until Hawk felt as though he would break down and weep at any moment.
“What is it?” whispered Fisher, her eyes bright with un-shed tears. “What’s happening?”
“It’s Le Bel Inconnu,” said Hawk softly. “The God that Tomb worshipped. The dying God. It’s come here to be with its friend, in their last moments. So neither of them would have to go into the dark alone.”
And then, in a moment, the Presence was gone, as though it had never been. The room seemed to echo with its loss. Hawk looked down at Tomb, and didn’t need to check the man’s pulse to know that he was dead, too.
AFTERMATH
The Street of Gods was back to normal again, or at least as close as it ever got to normal. The sky was a bright and cheerful blue, and reminded Hawk of pleasant summer days. As long as he didn’t look at it too closely. The unmoving clouds and lack of a sun tended to spoil the illusion. Priests and worshippers crowded the Street, bustling back and forth and playing out their familiar roles in the never-ending game of salvation and damnation. Seekers for truth rubbed shoulders with wide-eyed tourists, all of them heckled by street preachers and badgered by concession stall-holders. It was all very much business as usual, for mortals and Beings alike.
Guard Constables and Brothers of Steel stood together on street corners, keeping an eye on things and swapping lies about their exploits during the recent unrest. The priests pretended they weren’t there, and concentrated on the more important task of sneering at their inferiors and ostentatiously ignoring the rest. There was almost an air of carnival on the Street of Gods; a celebration of life, of chaos narrowly avoided. When you got right down to it, no one had really wanted a God War. It was bad for business.
Hawk and Fisher strolled down the Street, taking their time and enjoying the sights, accompanied by Lord Louis Hightower. People who recognised the two Guards gave them respectful bows and plenty of room. Hawk smiled graciously. It seemed to him he’d never seen the Street so calm and serene. There was still the usual sprinkling of supernatural flotsam and jetsam: a headless man crawling down the Street on hands and knees, a flock of birds that flew in an endless circle overhead, a laughing woman covered with bubbling blood, and burning coals where her eyes should be; but even they seemed content to keep to themselves and not bother anyone.
“I don’t think I’ve ever known the Street so peaceful,” said Lord Hightower. “One can only hope it’ll last.”
“I doubt it,” said Hawk. “People have short memories, and from what I hear, the Beings aren’t much better. Except when it comes to feuds.”
Hightower laughed. “You’re probably right. Still, the Beings have settled down somewhat, now the God killer has been identified and dealt with, and the priests are behaving themselves for the moment. I suppose your work here is pretty much finished.”
“Pretty much,” said Fisher. “The Guard sorcerers are searching the rest of the city for more of Bode’s homunculi, just in case, but that’s the only loose end. We’re just hanging on here until the Council appoints a new Deity Division. Buchan’s the only survivor of the last God Squad, and it’ll be some time before he’s ready for duty again.”
“Indeed,” said Hightower. “I looked in on Charles earlier today. He was looking decidedly pale, but much improved. Amazing what they can do with healing spells these days. And the delightful young lady acting as his nurse seemed very competent.”
“She’ll take good care of him,” said Hawk. “Annette’s very fond of Buchan.”
They walked a while in silence, each of them waiting for the other to continue. Hawk broke first. “All right, Lord Hightower. What the hell are you doing here? Not that we aren’t pleased to see you, but I can’t believe this is the kind of venue you’d normally choose for a pleasant constitutional.”
Hightower chuckled easily. “I’m here because the Council has selected me to be part of the next God Squad. I applied some time back, when I realised how bored I was with my life. The family estate practically runs itself, I’ve no interest in politics or the romantic intrigues so beloved by High Society, and even the Hellfire Club was starting to seem a bit childish. But Buchan had seemed happy enough with his work in the God Squad, so I applied.
“The Council contacted me last night and gave me the good news. Personally, I think it just goes to show how desperate they are, but that’s their problem. I can’t wait to see who they’re going to choose as sorcerer and mystic. Anyway, in the meantime I have been given the responsibility of keeping the peace on the Street of Gods. If I’m to do that, I’m going to need people to work with I can trust and the priests and Beings will respect. I need you, Captain Hawk, Captain Fisher. What do you say?”
“Sure,” said Hawk, after a quick look at Fisher, “we’ll help you out. But only until the new Squad’s ready to take over. The Street of Gods is an interesting place to visit, but I’d hate to have to work here.”
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