and the betrayed. They came to the Madonna with heavy hearts, and she gave them what they asked for: an end to all pain. After they died, they rose again in her service, for as long as she required them.
Some called her a God, some a Devil. There isn't always that much difference on the Street of Gods.
The Madonna herself turned out to be a plain, pleasant woman dressed in gaudily colored robes. She had a tray of sickly looking boiled sweets at her side and sucked one noisily all the time they were there. She didn't offer them round, and Hawk, for one, was grateful. Dead men and women shuffled through her chamber on unknown errands. Their faces were colorless and slack, but once or twice Hawk thought he caught a quick glimpse of something damned and suffering in their eyes. He kept his hand near his axe, and his eye on the nearest exit.
Adamant and the Madonna made a deal. In return for her withdrawing her support for the DeWitt brothers, Adamant would allow the Madonna access to the High Steppes hospitals. It wasn't quite as cold as it sounded. The Madonna was bound by her nature only to take the willing, and every hospital has some who would welcome death as a release from pain. Even so; Hawk studied Adamant thoughtfully. He'd always suspected the politician had a ruthless streak. He caught Medley's eye on the way out, but the Advisor just shrugged.
La Belle Dame du Rocher, the Beautiful Lady of the Rocks, refused to see them. So did the Soror Marium, the Sister of the Sea. They were both old patrons of Haven, and Adamant was clearly disappointed. He left an offering for each of them anyway, just in case.
The Hanged Man was polite but noncommittal, the Carrion In Tears asked too high a price, and the Crawling Violet's answer made no sense at all. And so it went down the Street of Gods. Even those few Beings who would allow Adamant to approach them were usually uninterested in his problems. They had their own affairs and vendettas to pursue. Adamant remained calm and polite throughout it all, and Hawk kept his hand near his axe. The various Beings were disturbing enough, but their followers gave him the creeps. They all had the same flat, unwavering stare of the fanatic.
And finally, when they had been everywhere else, Adamant brought his party to the Brotherhood of Steel. Their Headquarters looked less like a church, and more like an upmarket barracks. The carved wood and stonework was only a few hundred years out of date, which made the place look almost modern compared to most of the Street of Gods. Armed guards patrolled the front of the building, but fell back respectfully once they recognized Adamant. Hawk looked at him sharply.
'You're not just a casual visitor here, are you?'
'I've had dealings with the Brotherhood before,' said Adamant. 'Every politician has.'
A scarred man-at-arms in brightly shining chain mail led them through a series of open corridors to an impressively large library, where he left them. Fisher grabbed the most comfortable chair and sank into it, stretching out her long legs with a satisfied sigh. Hawk was tempted to do the same. His feet were killing him. But every instinct he had was telling him to keep alert. Every man he'd seen in the Headquarters had been wearing a sword, and looked like he knew how to use it. If by some chance Hardcastle had already been here and struck a deal with the Brotherhood, getting out of the Headquarters might prove a lot more difficult than getting in. He sat on the arm of Fisher's chair and fixed Adamant with a steady gaze.
'All right, sir Adamant. Who are we waiting to see?'
'Jeremiah Rukker. He's the Commander here. Not a bad sort; we can talk with him.'
'How does he feel about Reform?'
'Couldn't care less, one way or the other. Officially, the Brotherhood is above politics. Actually, they'll work with anyone, if it's kept under the table and the price is right. And the Brotherhood strikes a very hard bargain.'
'Fill me in on the Brotherhood,' said Fisher. 'Just how much influence do they really have in Haven?'
'More than you'd think,' said Medley. 'Essentially, any man who can wield a sword or an axe can apply for membership in the Brotherhood. Once admitted, they can learn skills and tactics preserved over hundreds of years and become part of a mystical fellowship that owes loyalty to nothing save itself. A Brother of Steel will defy any law, ruler, or religion;if the Brotherhood requires it.'
'And there are Brothers everywhere,' said Adamant. 'In the Council, in the Guard, and in all the political parties.'
Hawk frowned. 'How can you be sure of that?'
'This is Haven, remember? Nothing stays secret here for long.' Adamant looked at Hawk steadily. 'According to my sources, the Brotherhood has spread throughout the Low Kingdoms; even among the King's Advisors. So far, they've managed to avoid a purge by declaring themselves totally impartial when it comes to politics, but the new militants may change all that.'
'So why have we come here?' said Hawk. 'Why should the orthodox Brotherhood want to make a deal with Reform?' And then he paused, and his face cleared suddenly. 'Of course; the most important thing for them is to see that the militants lose this election. In the Steppes, that means backing either Hardcastle or you, and they know they can't trust Hardcastle. I think I'm getting the hang of politics.'
'There's more to politics than just being cynical,' said a deep, resonant voice behind him. Hawk spun round, one hand dropping to his axe. A tall, impressively muscled man in his mid-forties stood smiling in the library doorway. He paused a moment to make sure they'd all got a good look at him, and then he strode forward into the room. His polished chain mail gleamed brightly in the lamplight, and a long sword hilt peered over his left shoulder. The sword on his back reached almost to the floor. He had jet-black hair, sharp classical features that were a little too perfect to be handsome, and a broad smile that wasn't reflected in his eyes. All in all, he looked more like a politician than Adamant did. Hawk decided that if he had to shake hands, he'd better count his fingers afterwards. He nodded warily to the newcomer, who smiled briefly in his direction before bowing formally to Adamant.
'Jeremiah Rukker, at your service once again, sir Adamant. It's always good to see you here. Won't you introduce me to your companions?'
'Of course, Commander. This is my wife, Dannielle. You know my Advisor. The two Guards are Captain Hawk and Captain Fisher. Perhaps you've heard of them.'
'Yes,' said Rukker. 'I've heard of them.'
Hawk raised an eyebrow at the ice in Rukker's voice. 'Do we have a problem. Commander?'
'We don't,' said Rukker carefully. 'Your reputation as a warrior precedes you. But your woman also claims the rights of a warrior, and that is unacceptable.'
Fisher rose lithely to her feet and stood next to Hawk, one hand resting idly on her sword hilt. Rukker drew himself up to his full height, and fixed her with a cold stare.
'Women do not use weapons,' he said flatly. 'They are not suited to it. They know nothing of the glory of steel.'
'Nice-looking sword you've got there,' said Fisher easily. 'Want to go a few rounds?'
'Isobel;' said Hawk quickly.
'Don't worry; I won't damage him too much. Just take some of the wind out of his sails. Come on, Rukker, what do you say? Best out of five, and I'll give you two points to start with. Just to make the match even.'
Adamant glared at her, and then at Hawk. 'Captain, if you wouldn't mind;'
'Don't look at me,' said Hawk. 'She goes her own way. Always has. Besides, if Rukker's stupid enough to take her on, he deserves everything that happens to him. If I were you, I'd send for a doctor. And a mop.'
Rukker stared haughtily at Fisher. The effect was rather spoiled because he had to look up slightly to do it. 'A Brother of Steel does not fight with women,' he said coldly. 'It is not seemly.'
'Yeah,' said Fisher. 'Sure.'
She turned away and sat down in the chair again. Rukker ignored her and inclined his head courteously to Hawk.
'I understand you worked with the legendary Adam Stalker on your last case, Captain Hawk. He was a great man. His death is a loss to us all.'
'There's no doubt he'll be missed,' said Hawk. 'Was he a Brother of Steel?'
'Of course. All the great heroes are. You might care to make application yourself, some day. Your skills and reputation would make you a valued member.'
'Thanks,' said Hawk. 'But I'm not really the joining type.'
'Don't dismiss us so casually. Captain. We have much to offer.' Rukker fixed Hawk with a burning gaze, and his voice became earnest and compelling. 'The Brotherhood is dedicated to the glory of Steel. It is the symbol that holds mankind together, that enables him to impose order on a savage and uncaring universe. Steel gives us
