Though really, deep down, he'd already decided what he was going to do. Whatever
she said, whatever she'd done; it didn't matter. Once before he'd given up
everything he had for her sake, and he wouldn't hesitate to do it again if he
had to. There were other cities, other countries they could go to, and it
wouldn't be the first time they'd had to change their names.
But he had to find her soon, before the Guard did. She wouldn't go to any of her
usual haunts; too many other people knew about them. There had to be some place
she'd regard as safe, some place she'd think no one knew about but her… The
Tolling Bell. That had to be it. Isobel often disappeared there when she lost an
argument or was feeling broody.
A shout went up not too far away, as a sudden gust of wind caught the edge of
his hood and flipped it back, revealing his face. Hawk pulled the hood back into
position, but the damage had been done. Two Guard Constables were running
towards him, swords drawn. Hawk looked quickly around for an escape route, but
they were all blocked by curious onlookers eager for some free entertainment.
Hawk cursed unemotionally, straightened up, and drew his axe. He shrugged his
cloak back out of the way and stamped the snow flat to give him better footing.
He hefted his axe thoughtfully, and waited for the two Constables to come within
range. He didn't want to kill them if he could avoid it. They were just doing
their job. As far as they were concerned, he was a rogue and a traitor. But he
couldn't let them stop him. Isobel's life might depend on his getting to her
before anyone else did.
The Constables slowed their pace as they drew near Hawk, and moved apart to take
him from two directions at once. Hawk picked the nearest one, and launched
himself forward. He ducked under the Constable's wild swing, the sword blade
tugging briefly at the top of his hood, and slammed his shoulder into the
Constable's gut. The man folded in half and fell away, gasping for air. Hawk
clubbed him forcefully across the back of the head with the butt of his axe, and
then spun round just in time to block an attack from the other Constable.
The two of them stamped back and forth, feinting and withdrawing, each trying to
make the other commit himself. Hawk faked a stumble, and went down on one knee.
The Constable immediately fell back a step, too old a hand to be taken in by
such an obvious stunt, and Hawk hit him in the face with the handful of snow
he'd palmed when he went down. The Constable staggered back, lashing out blindly
with his sword while he tried to claw the snow out of his eyes with his free
hand. Hawk timed it carefully, stepped in during a brief moment when the
Constable left himself open, and kicked him in the groin.
The Constable went down without a sound, and Hawk clubbed him unconscious. He
nodded once, satisfied, and then froze as a shout went up again, some way behind
him. He looked round and saw six more Constables charging down the street
towards him. Hawk turned on his heel and ran for the nearest alleyway. If he had
to take on six-to-one odds with no one to guard his back, someone was definitely
going to end up dead. Quite possibly him. The people in the alley mouth
scattered as he bore down on them axe in hand, and he plunged past them into the
concealing gloom of the narrow passageway. His best bet was to try and lose his
pursuers in the maze of back streets and cul de sacs. He knew this area, and the
odds were they didn't. He just hoped he wouldn't have to outrun them. He was
already short of breath. It had been a long day, and the end was nowhere in
sight.
He scowled to himself as he ran. Running from a mere six-to-one odds. If this
got out, he'd never live it down.
Captain ap Owen watched with interest as Commander Glen sat glowering behind his
desk, painfully growling orders to a steady stream of visitors. He kept an ice
pack pressed against his face. A quite spectacular bruise was spreading across
his jaw and peeking round the edges of the ice pack. People came and went in
sudden rushes and flurries, darting into the office to deliver updated reports
and possible sightings, and then quickly disappearing before Glen could turn his
glare on them. But for all their bustle and effort, it was clear they were no
nearer locating Hawk or Fisher.
and occasionally raising a hand to feel gingerly at the back of his head. He
claimed to have a hell of a bump there, but no one else had seen it. Ap Owen
thought it was probably more hurt pride than anything else. Burns glared at ap
Owen as though it were all his fault, and ap Owen quickly looked away, somehow
keeping a smile off his face. It had to be said, he'd never much cared for
Burns. Too interested in looking good, that one. Probably had a great career
ahead of him—in administration.
"We'll find them," said Glen slowly, trying hard not to move his mouth when he
spoke. "We've got their house staked out, and all their usual haunts. The city
Gates have been sealed, so they can't get out of Haven. All we have to do now is
run them to ground…" He broke off abruptly as a wave of pain hit him, but his
eyes were still hot and furious.
"We're leaning on all the usual informants," said ap Owen. "Most of them are
falling over themselves at a chance to do Hawk and Fisher some dirt. Those two
have made an awful lot of enemies during their short time in Haven."
Burns sniffed. "No honor among thieves. Or traitors."
Ap Owen raised an eyebrow. "That's hardly fair, Burns. Up until now, Hawk and
Fisher have always had an exemplary reputation."
"You have got to be joking. Everyone knows about the brutal tactics they use.
They don't care who they hurt or intimidate, and they kill anyone who gets in
their way. I've even heard it said they plant evidence and manufacture
confessions, just to make their arrest rate look good. They're no better than
thugs in uniform."
"They always upheld the law."
"When it suited them," said Burns. "Anybody can be bought, for the right price."
Ap Owen shrugged unhappily, and looked across at Glen. "With respect, Commander,
I think our quarry have more than enough sense to keep clear of all their usual
haunts. Is there anywhere they might go, that they might think we don't know
about? You were with Hawk all day, Burns. Did he mention any place to you?"
"If he had, I'd have said so!" snapped Burns. "Why aren't you out there looking
for them? You've got twenty men under you. Why aren't you out combing the
streets?"
"What's the point?" said ap Owen mildly. "We've got half an army out there as it
is; adding my people to that pack would only give them someone else to trip
over. Besides, I don't want my men wandering aimlessly about in the cold, or
they won't be worth spit when we finally get a chance to arrest Hawk or Fisher.
Or both. In fact, the more I think about it, the more sure I am they'll have
joined up by now. They always were very devoted to each other."
"I don't know," said Glen indistinctly, from behind his ice pack. "Hawk seemed
&nbs
p; honestly shocked when he heard the news about Fisher's treachery. I think
there's a real chance he may not be involved in the treason himself."
"If he wasn't a traitor before, he is now," said Burns. "He's defied lawful
orders and assaulted a superior officer. And right now you can bet he's doing
his utmost to help the traitor Fisher to escape justice. Even though her actions
may have helped to start a war."
"Calm down," said ap Owen. "It isn't that bad. Yet. The delegates are still
talking to each other, even if it's not on an official basis at the moment.
There's still hope. In the meantime, guilty or not, I think we can assume Hawk
is doing his best to locate Fisher. And since he's much more likely to figure
out where she's hidden herself than we are, I think we can also assume that when
we finally catch up with them, they're going to be together. And together,
they're the most formidable fighting machine Haven has ever seen. I'm not sure I
can take them, even with twenty men under me. Which is why, Captain Burns, my
men are staying here, warm and rested, until they're needed. I don't want them
worn out from chasing round Haven after every unconfirmed sighting."
"Thank you, Captain," said Glen heavily. "I think you've made your point." He
scowled at ap Owen and Burns, and then stared unseeingly at the papers on his
desk, his fingers drumming quietly as he thought. "Hawk said something once,
about Fisher having a special place to go to be on her own, when she wanted to
get away from everything. He told me about it one time, when we were looking for
her in an emergency and couldn't find her. It was an inn. The something Bell.
The Tolling Bell, that was it."
"What district?" said ap Owen.
"How the hell should I know? Find out!"
Ap Owen rose to his feet. "It's got to be somewhere near their home. Shouldn't
be too hard to find someone here who lives in that area. I'll let you know the
minute I've got word, Commander; then I'll move in with my men while you have
the area surrounded. Maybe we can talk Hawk and Fisher into giving up. I don't
see any point in getting my people killed if I can avoid it."
"It's not as simple as that," said Glen slowly. "I have my orders, Captain ap
Owen, and I'm passing them on to you. Hawk and Fisher are to be brought in dead.
We're not interested in their capture or surrender. Our superiors have decided
that they can't be allowed to stand trial. They know too many secrets, too many
things the Council can't afford to have discussed in public. So Hawk and Fisher
are going to die resisting arrest. That's the way our superiors want it, and
that's the way it's going to be. Understand?"
"Yes, Commander," said ap Owen. "I understand. Now, if you'll excuse me…"
"I'm going with you," said Burns. "I have a personal stake in this."
Ap Owen glanced at Commander Glen, who nodded brusquely. Ap Owen crossed over to
the door without looking at Burns, and left the Commander's office. Burns
followed him out. Glen stared at the papers on his desk for a long time before
returning to his work.
Fisher slipped into The Tolling Bell tavern with her hood pulled low, and
ordered an ale by pointing and grunting. The bartender drew her off a pint
without commenting. You got all sorts in The Tolling Bell. Fisher paid for her
drink and quickly settled herself in a dark corner, careful to avoid her usual
booth. She took a long swallow of the bitter ale, wiped the froth from her upper
lip with care, so as not to disturb her hood, and only then allowed herself to
relax a little. She'd always thought of The Bell as a sanctuary, a place apart
from the cares and duties of her life, and now she needed that feeling more than
ever. She looked around casually, checking the place out.
The inn was quiet, not surprising given the time of day, with only a dozen or so
customers. Fisher recognized all of them as regulars. They'd mind their own
business. They always did.
Hawk's gone berserk. He's killing anyone who gets in his way.
Fisher squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't want to believe that what she'd heard
was true, but it could be. It could be. And if it were… she didn't know what to
do for the best. She couldn't let him go on as he was. If he really had gone
berserk, innocent people might get hurt, even killed. She couldn't risk looking
for him herself; she might unknowingly lead the Guard right to him. But she
couldn't just abandon him, either. She had to do something… something, while
there was still time.
In the street outside, Hawk leaned against a wall and looked casually about him.
No one seemed to be paying him any untoward attention. He was pretty sure he
hadn't been followed since he shook off the pursuing Constables, but he wasn't
taking any chances. He approved of Fisher's choice of inn. The Tolling Bell was
quiet, off the beaten track and nicely anonymous. Not at all the kind of place
you'd expect to find Captains Hawk and Fisher. He took one last look around,
pulled his hood even lower, and ducked in through the open doorway.
He strolled over to the bar, and ordered a beer by grunting and pointing. The
bartender looked at him for a moment, and then drew him a pint. Hawk paid the
man, put his back against the bar, and sipped his beer thoughtfully as he looked
about him. The other customers ignored him completely, but one figure near the
back seemed to be going out of its way to avoid looking in his direction.
Fisher's heart beat painfully fast, and she clutched her glass until her
knuckles showed white. She had recognized Hawk the moment he entered the inn.
She knew the way he walked, the way he moved… He'd spotted her. She could tell
from the way his stance suddenly changed. Her thoughts raced furiously. Why was
he just standing there? Had he come to take her in? Did he want Morgan so badly
now, he'd even sacrifice her in return for a clear shot at the drug baron? He's
gone rogue. Killing anyone who gets in his way. Anyone.
She shoved her chair back from the table and sprang to her feet. She swept her
cloak over her shoulders, out of the way, and drew her sword. She couldn't let
Hawk take her in. He didn't understand what was going on. They'd kill her, once
she was safely out of the public eye, to be sure of appeasing the Outremer
delegates. She couldn't let Hawk take her in.
Hawk shrugged his own cloak back out of the way, and drew his axe as she drew
her sword. What little he could see of her face looked strained and desperate.
She must be a traitor. She's betrayed everyone. She betrayed you. There were
frantic scrambling sounds all around as the other customers hurried to get out
of the way. A tense, echoing silence filled the room.
She's a traitor. All the evidence proves it. She drew a sword on you. You can't
trust her anymore.
He's a rogue. He's gone berserk, out of control. He's killed people all over
Haven. You can't trust him anymore.
Hawk slowly straightened up out of his fighting stance, and put away his axe. He
pushed back his hood, and walked slowly towards Isobel. She straightened up and
lowered her sword. Hawk stopped before her, easily in reach of her sword, and
&n
bsp; smiled at her.
"It's all right, Isobel. I don't care what you've done. You must have had a good
reason for it. If you don't want me with you, if you feel you have to… leave me
behind, that's all right. I'll understand. All that matters to me is that you're
safe."
Fisher slammed her sword back into its scabbard, and hugged Hawk fiercely,
crushing the breath out of him. "You damned fool, Hawk! As if I could ever leave
you…"
They clung together for a while, happy and secure in each other's arms, eyes
squeezed shut, as if they could close out everything in the world except the two
of them. The other customers slowly began to settle down again, though still
keeping a wary eye on the embracing couple. Eventually, reluctantly, Hawk and
Fisher broke apart, and stepped back to look at each other properly. Hawk's
mouth twitched.
"That is a really horrible-looking cloak, Isobel."
"You should talk. What the hell have you been up to, Hawk? I've been hearing all
kinds of crazy things about you."
Hawk grinned. "Most of them are probably true. You should hear what they've been
saying about you."
They sat down together at Fisher's table, and brought each other up to date on
the day's events. It took a while, not least because there were a lot of things
they weren't too sure about themselves, but eventually they both ran down, and
sat quietly, thinking hard. A growing murmur of conversation rose around them,
as the inn's customers disappointedly decided that there wasn't going to be any
more action after all.
"Somebody's been setting us up," said Hawk finally.
"Both of us. We've been led around by the nose all day long, and we were so tied
up in our own concerns we never even noticed. But the way things are, no one's
going to believe us, no matter what we say. You know, we could still make a run
for it. I know a forger who could knock us out new identities in under an hour."
Fisher looked at him. "Do you want to run?"
"Well, no, not really, but I thought you…"
"That was different. I thought I was on my own then. But now…"
"Right," said Hawk. "No one sets us up and gets away with it. The trouble is,
who the hell did it to us? I thought for a long time it was Morgan, but that
turned out not to be the case."