Hawk sat bolt upright in his chair as a scream rang out on the landing and then was cut suddenly short. He jumped to his feet, grabbed his axe and ran out of the parlor, followed closely by Fisher with her sword in her hand. They ran down the hall and pounded up the stairs together. The first scream had been a man's scream, but now a woman was screaming, on and on. Hawk drove himself harder, taking the stairs two at a time. He burst out onto the landing and skidded to a halt as he looked around him for a target. Edward Bowman lay twisted on the floor, his eyes wide and staring. His clothes were splashed with blood, and more had soaked into the carpet around him. His throat had been torn out. Katherine Blackstone stood over the body, screaming and screaming, her hands pressed to her face in horror. Fisher took her by the shoulders and turned her gently away from the body. Katherine resisted at first, and then all the strength went out of her. She stopped screaming and stood in silence, her hands at her sides, staring blindly at the wall as tears ran unheeded down her cheeks. The other guests were spilling out of their doors in various stages of undress, all of them demanding to know what had happened. Hawk knelt beside the body. There was a dagger on the carpet, not far from Bowman's hand, but there was no blood on the blade. The attack must have happened so quickly that Bowman never even had a chance to defend himself. Hawk looked closely at Bowman's throat, and swore softly. The killer hadn't been as neat with Bowman as he had with Blackstone. Hawk sat back on his haunches and scowled thoughtfully at the body.
There were footsteps on the stairs behind him. He straightened up quickly and turned, axe in hand, to find Gaunt almost on top of him. He was wearing only a dressing gown, and looked flushed and out of breath.
'What is it?' he rasped, staring past Hawk. 'What's happened?'
'Bowman's dead,' said Hawk. 'Murdered.' He looked quickly around to see if anyone was missing, but all the guests were there, kept at a respectable distance from the body by Fisher's leveled sword. Dorimant was the nearest, with the witch Visage at his side. Their faces were white with shock. Lord and Lady Hightower stood in the doorway, halfway down the landing, both in their nightclothes. Lord Roderik was holding his wife protectively close to him. Stalker stood in the middle of the landing, his face set and grim, wearing only his trousers and boots but holding a sword in his hand. Hawk looked carefully at the sword, but there was no blood on the blade. He looked again at Stalker, taking in the dozens of old scars that crisscrossed the huge muscular frame, and then looked away, wincing mentally.
'All right,' said Hawk harshly. 'Everyone downstairs. I can't work with all of you cluttering up the place. Stay in a group, and don't go off on your own for any reason. Don't argue, just move! You can wait in the parlor. You'll be all right; there's safety in numbers. Gaunt, you stay behind a minute.'
Hawk waited impatiently as the guests filed past him, keeping well clear of the body. Lord and Lady Hightower helped Katherine down the stairs. Her tears had stopped, but her face was blank and empty from shock. Hawk stopped Stalker as he passed.
'I'll have to take your sword, sir Stalker.'
Stalker looked at Hawk steadily, and his eyes were very cold. Fisher stepped forward, and lifted her blade a fraction. Stalker looked at her, and smiled slightly. He turned back to Hawk and handed him his sword, hilt first.
'Of course, Captain Hawk. There are tests you'll want to run.'
'Thank you, sir warrior,' said Hawk, sliding the sword through his belt. 'The sword will be returned to you as soon as possible.'
'That's all right,' said Stalker. 'I have others.'
He followed the other guests down the stairs and into the parlor. Hawk and Fisher looked at each other, and relaxed a little.
'For a minute there,' said Hawk, 'I wondered;'
'Yeah,' said Fisher. 'So did I.'
Hawk turned to Gaunt, who was kneeling by the body. 'Careful, sir sorcerer. We don't want to destroy any evidence, do we?'
Gaunt nodded, and rose to his feet. 'His throat's been torn out. There's no telling what the murder weapon was; the wound's a mess.'
'That can wait for the moment,' said Hawk. 'Is your isolation spell still holding?'
'Yes. I'd have known immediately if it had been breached. There can't be any more doubt; the killer has to be one of us.'
'All right,' said Hawk. 'Go on down and wait with the others. And you'd better take a look at Katherine Blackstone. She's in shock. And coming so soon after the last shock to her system;'
'Of course,' said Gaunt. He nodded quickly to Hawk and Fisher, then made his way back down the stairs. Hawk and Fisher looked thoughtfully at the body.
'We can't afford to wait till the experts get here in the morning,' said Fisher. 'We've got to find the killer ourselves.'
'Right,' said Hawk. 'If we don't, there might not be anybody left come the morning.'
Chapter Five
BLOOD In THE NIGHT
'Well, first things first,' said Hawk. 'Let's check the body.'
He and Fisher put away their weapons, knelt down beside Bowman, and studied the dead man carefully. Bowman's throat had been torn apart. Hawk frowned grimly as he examined the wounds.
'This wasn't done with a sword,' he said slowly. 'The edges of the wounds are ragged and uneven. It could have been a knife with a jagged edge; See how it's ripped through the skin? What a mess. If I didn't know better, I'd swear Bowman had been attacked by some kind of animal.'
'Right,' said Fisher. 'Take a look at his chest and arms.'
There were long bloody rents in Bowman's shirtfront. Similar cuts showed on both his forearms, as though he'd held them up to try and protect his throat.
'Strange, that,' said Hawk, indicating the torn and bloody arms. 'If he had time to raise his arms, he should have had time to use his dagger. But there isn't a drop of blood on the blade.'
'Maybe he dropped it in the struggle,' said Fisher. 'It must have all happened pretty fast. Bowman never stood a chance. Poor bastard.' She sank back on her haunches and stared unhappily at the body. 'You know, Hawk, I wouldn't feel so bad if I hadn't disliked Bowman so much. There were times when I could quite happily have run the arrogant bastard through myself. I was so sure he was the murderer;'
'I know what you mean,' said Hawk. 'I'd almost convinced myself he was the killer. It all made sense. He had both the motive and the opportunity; and I didn't like him either.' He shook his head tiredly. 'Well, we can't apologize to him now, lass. But maybe we can bring his killer to justice. So, with Bowman gone, who's the main suspect now?'
Fisher rubbed her jaw thoughtfully. 'Katherine? She was first on the scene at both the murders.'
'I don't think so,' said Hawk. 'A knife in the chest is one thing, but this; Whatever actually made these wounds, there must have been a hell of a lot of strength behind it to have done so much damage in so short a time. A starving wolf couldn't have done a better job on his throat. And remember, Katherine was standing right over the body when we found them, and there wasn't a trace of blood on her clothing.'
'Very observant,' said Fisher approvingly. 'Whoever killed Bowman had to have got blood all over him. Did you see;'
'No,' said Hawk. 'I checked them all carefully as they filed past me, and no one had any blood on their clothes. The killer must have had time to change.'
'Damn,' said Fisher. 'It would have simplified things.'
'There's nothing simple about this case,' said Hawk dourly. 'We'd better check all the rooms, just in case there's some bloodstained clothing to be found, but I'm betting we won't find a damned thing. Our killer's too clever for that.'
'What about Stalker's sword?' said Fisher suddenly.
'All right,' said Hawk. 'What about it?'
Fisher gave him a hard look. 'You said you wanted to run some tests on it. What did you have in mind?'
'Nothing, really,' said Hawk. 'I just didn't want him looming over me with a sword in his hand. Remember, at the time all he had on were his trousers and boots. Where was his shirt? It occurred to me that he might have had to take it off because he'd got blood on it.'
