Adamant's speech lasted the better part of an hour, and the crowd lapped it up. He talked about the dark side of Haven, the sweatshops and the work gangs, the company shops that made sure their employees stayed poor, and the company bullies who dealt with anyone who dared speak out. He talked about rotten food and foul drinking water, about houses with holes in the roof and rats in the walls; and the crowd reacted with shock and outrage, as though they'd never known such things existed. Adamant made them see their world with fresh eyes, and see how bad it really was.
He told them about the powerful and privileged men who cared nothing for the poor because they were born into the wrong class and therefore were nothing more than animals, to be used and discarded as their betters saw fit. He told them of the titled men and women who gorged themselves on six-course meals in gorgeous banquet halls, while the children of the poor died in the streets from hunger and exposure;and the raw hatred from the crowd was a palpable presence in the ballroom.
And then he told them things didn't have to be that way anymore.
He told them of the Cause. Of Reform, and how the evils of Haven would finally be done away with, not by violence and revolution, but by slow, continued change. By people working together, instead of against each other, regardless of class or wealth or position. It wasn't going to be easy. There were those in Haven who would fight and die rather than see the system change. Reform would be a long fight and a hard fight, but in the end Reform would win, because working together the people were stronger by far than the privileged individuals who sought to keep them in their place, in the gutter. Adamant smiled proudly down at the men and women before him. <em>Let others call us trouble-makers and anarchists</em>, he said quietly; <em>We will show the people of Haven it isn't true. We are just men and women who have had enough, and will see justice done. Whatever it takes</em>.
<em>They can't kill us all.</em>
Adamant finally stopped speaking, and for a moment there was silence. And then the crowd roared its agreement in a single, determined voice. Adamant had taken a crowd of individuals and forged them into an army, and they knew it. All they needed now was an enemy to fight, and they'd find that soon enough out on the streets. Hawk watched the crowd in the mirror, impressed but deeply disturbed. Raising violent emotions like these was dangerous for everyone involved. If Hardcastle could raise similar feelings in his followers, there would be blood and death in the streets when the two sides met.
Adamant raised his hands again, and the crowd grew still. He paused a moment, as though searching for just the right words, and then talked to them slowly and calmly about how they should deal with the enemy. Violence was Hardcastle's way, not theirs. Let the voters see who needed to resort to violence first, and then they'd see who spoke the truth, and who dared not let it be heard. Adamant looked out over his people. It was inevitable that people were going to be hurt in the hours ahead, maybe even killed. But whatever happened, they were only ever to defend themselves, and then only as much as was needed. It was easy to fall into the trap of hatred and revenge, but that was the enemy's way, not theirs. Reform fought to change, not destroy.
He paused again, to let the thought sink in, and then suddenly raised his voice in happiness and good cheer. He filled the audience's hearts with hope and resolve, wished them all good fortune, bowed once, and then strode unhurriedly off into the shadows of the landing, followed by Dannielle and Medley. His audience cheered him till their hearts were raw, and then filed slowly out of the ballroom, laughing and chattering excitedly about the day ahead. Back in the concealing shadows of the landing, Adamant sank wearily into his chair and let his breath out in a long, slow sigh of relief.
'I think that went rather well,' he said finally. He put out a hand to Dannielle, and she took it firmly in both of hers.
'It should have,' said Medley. 'We spent long enough rehearsing it.'
'Oh, never mind him,' said Dannielle, glaring at Medley. 'You were wonderful, darling! Listen to them, James; they're still cheering you!'
'It's a hard life being a politician,' said Adamant solemnly. 'All this power and adulation; How will I ever stand the pressure?'
Medley snorted. 'Wait till we get out on the streets, James. That's when the real work starts. They do things differently out there.'
Half an hour later the faithful had all departed, but Adamant and company were back in the study again. Adamant had visitors. Garrett Walpole and Lucien Sykes were businessmen, so successful that even Hawk and Fisher had heard of them. Their families were as old as Haven, and if their money hadn't come from trade, they could both have been leading members of the Quality. As it was, the lowest member of High Society wouldn't have deigned to so much as sneer in their direction. Tradesmen used the back door, no matter how wealthy they were. Which was at least partly why Walpole and Sykes had come visiting. Not that they would ever have admitted it, of course. They shook hands formally with Adamant, and nodded generally around them as Adamant made the introductions.
'Your Advisor can stay,' said Sykes briskly, 'but the others will have to leave. Our business here is confidential, Adamant.'
Hawk smiled, and shook his head. 'We're bodyguards. We stay with sir Adamant.'
Walpole looked at Hawk and Fisher amusedly. 'Call off your dogs, will you, James? Perhaps your wife could take them to the kitchens for a cup of tea, or something, until our business is finished.'
'Don't care much for tea,' said Fisher. 'We stay.'
'You'll do as you're damned well told!' snapped Sykes. 'Now, get out, and don't come back till we call you. Adamant, tell them.'
Hawk smiled slowly, and Sykes paled suddenly as his breath caught in his throat. Without moving a muscle, a change had come over Hawk. He suddenly looked; dangerous. The scarred face was cold and impassive, and Sykes couldn't help noticing how Hawk's hand rested on the axe at his side. The room suddenly seemed very small, with nowhere to turn.
'We're bodyguards,' said Hawk softly. 'We stay.'
'Gentlemen, please!' said Adamant quickly. 'There's no need for any unpleasantness. We're all friends here. Hawk, Fisher, these gentlemen are my guests. I would be obliged if you would show them every courtesy while they're in my house.'
'Of course,' said Hawk. His tone was impeccably polite, but the gaze from his single dark eye was still disturbingly cold. Sykes looked at Fisher, but if anything her smile was even more disturbing.
'There's no cause for alarm, my friends,' said Adamant. 'My bodyguards fully understand our need for confidentiality. You have my word that nothing discussed here will go beyond the walls of this room.'
Walpole looked at Sykes, who nodded grudgingly. Hawk smiled. Fisher leaned against the mantelpiece and folded her arms.
'But your wife will still have to leave,' said Sykes stubbornly. 'This is not women's business.'
Dannielle flushed angrily, and looked to Adamant for support, but he was already nodding slowly. 'Very well, Lucien, if you insist. Danny, if you wouldn't mind;'
Dannielle shot him a quick look of betrayal, and then gathered her composure sufficiently to smile graciously round the room before leaving. She didn't slam the door behind her, but it felt as though she had. Adamant gestured for Walpole and Sykes to be seated, and waited patiently for them to settle themselves comfortably before pouring them wine from the most delicately fashioned decanter. Hawk and Fisher held out their glasses for a refill. Adamant handed them the decanter, and pulled up a chair opposite his visitors. The two Guards remained standing. Hawk studied the two businessmen surreptitiously over his wineglass. He didn't move in their circle, but he knew them both by reputation. Guards made it their business to know the movers and shakers of Haven's community by sight. You could avoid a lot of embarrassment that way.
Garrett Walpole was a bluff military type in his late fifties. He'd spent twenty years in the Low Kingdoms army before retiring to take over the family business, and it showed. He still wore his hair in a regulation military cut, and his back was straight as a sword blade. He wore sober clothes of a conservative cut, and sat back in his chair as though he owned the place.
Lucien Sykes was an overweight, ruddy-faced man in his late forties. He wore the latest fashion with more determination than style, and looked more than a little uneasy in present company. Sykes was big in the import- export business, which was why he'd come to Adamant. The Dock-workers Guild was in the second week of its strike, and nothing was moving in or out of the docks. The Conservative-backed DeWitt brothers were trying to
