'I don't know,' said Jamie. 'But whatever the creature is, it's definitely not
human. Maybe it hasn't died because it can't…'
For a long moment, nobody said anything. The crackling of the fire seemed very
loud in the quiet.
'All this started because your father died unexpectedly,' said Hawk finally.
'Just how did he die?'
Katrina looked at him sharply. 'You don't know?'
'Word often gets garbled when it has to travel long distances,' said Fisher
smoothly. 'We want to make sure we've got it right.'
'I was just wondering,' said Hawk carefully, 'if perhaps there had been
something unusual about your father's death… something that might give us a clue
as to how the creature got out of its cell, after centuries of confinement. I
mean, its room was supposed to have been bricked up. So, how did it finally get
out?'
'I see.' Jamie nodded respectfully. 'I hadn't thought of that. But no, there was
nothing suspicious about my father's death. He was killed in a skirmish with
Outremer troops up in the Northern borderlands. He shouldn't really have been
there, an officer of his rank. But there had been rumors of new troop movements,
and he wanted to see for himself. Dad was like that. Never really trusted
anyone's opinion but his own. Anyway, he was in the wrong place at the wrong
time, and he and his whole column were wiped out. Just another borderland
skirmish. There's been a number of them just recently. Men are dying up there
every day, just because our King and the Outremer Monarch can't agree on exactly
where the bloody border is. Good men dying for a line on a map… I'm sorry. But
it's hard not to be bitter sometimes. Dad was a good soldier. He deserved a
better end than this. But I don't see how it could have had anything to do with
the creature's escape.'
'Did anything unusual happen here at the Tower, before the servants started
seeing and hearing things?' said Fisher…
Jamie thought for a moment. 'I don't think so. I remember we were a bit
short-staffed for a while about then. A lot of the servants had been going down
with colds, but you expect that at this time of the year. A day off, and they
were back at work again.'
'There's really nothing to worry about,' said Katrina firmly. 'You'll be quite
safe here, I assure you. There's no indication the creature's ever tried to hurt
anyone. That is right, isn't it, Jamie?'
'Yes, it is. But I felt it only fair you should all know what the situation is.
You see, before the will can be read, the Tower has to be isolated behind
protective wards for twenty-four hours. That's traditional.'
'You mean, once the wards are up, no one can leave the Tower for a full day?'
said Hawk. 'No matter what happens here?'
He and Fisher exchanged a quick glance.
'That's right,' said Jamie. 'But trust me, nothing's going to happen. If the
creature had meant any harm, it would have acted by now. AH those years of
imprisonment must have knocked the fight out of it.'
'I'm sure you're right,' said Fisher. 'But you couldn't have known that, at the
beginning. In fact, it must have been pretty scary, especially when the servants
started leaving, rather than face whatever it was. So why did you stay? Wouldn't
it have been safer to evacuate the Tower?'
'This is my home,' said Jamie. 'Home to my Family for generations. I won't be
driven out of it.'
There was an uncomfortable pause.
'Well,' said Katrina brightly, 'if all else fails, we can always call on the
Guardian!'
'Who?' said Hawk.
There was another, longer pause as the MacNeils looked at him strangely. Hawk
silently cursed. He knew he should have insisted on a full briefing. Nothing was
more likely to trip him and Fisher up than not recognizing some Family in-joke
or reference, and this was clearly one of them. Still, the harm was done now.
All he could do was try and face it down. He stared innocently back at Jamie and
Katrina. and noticed for the first time that Holly wasn't paying any attention
to the conversation. Instead, her eyes were far away, as though she were lost in
some world of her own. Then Katrina started speaking, and Hawk quickly switched
his attention back to her.
'You must have heard of the MacNeil Guardian,' said Katrina, speaking slowly and
carefully, as though to a rather backward small child. 'Perhaps you know him by
a different name. The Guardian is one of our more pleasant and comforting Family
legends. One of our more remote ancestors is supposed to haunt the Tower, duty
bound to protect his descendants from harm. Apparently it's a penance for some
bloody crime he later came to regret but was unable to put right while he lived.
The legend doesn't say exactly what his crime might have been.'
'That's often the way with legends,' said Hawk. 'You're right, of course. I
recognize it now. Has anyone seen this ghost in recent times?'
'No one's seen him for centuries,' said Jamie. 'Though there have been any
number of times when the Family could have used his help. So I'm afraid it is
just a legend, after all.'
'I believe in him,' said Holly suddenly. 'I pray every night he'll come to save
me. But he never does.'
Everyone looked at her strangely for a moment. For the first time, there had
been real passion in her voice, and something that might have been despair.
Jamie looked at her worriedly, but said nothing, and Holly quickly subsided into
silence again. Katrina cleared her throat loudly.
'That's supposed to be a portrait of the Guardian,' she said brightly,
indicating a dark and gloomy portrait directly over the fireplace. 'Painted not
long before his death. It's certainly old enough, so who knows?'
They all looked at the portrait. The pigments had darkened gradually over the
years, but the image was still clear. The portrait showed a grim, unsmiling
middle-aged man, posed uncomfortably in a large upholstered chair. He was
dressed in battered leather amour, and his face was lined and weathered. He
looked as though he would have been more at home riding a horse into combat than
sitting for an official Family portrait. There was an air of strength and
wildness about him, and his great mane of white hair and sharp, beaked nose
reminded Hawk uncannily of a bird of prey, trained to duty but never tamed. Hawk
had no trouble at all seeing him as a man who would do bloody crimes in the heat
of passion.
Everyone jumped slightly as the door behind them swung suddenly open and the
butler Greaves entered. He stepped to one side, and formally announced the
arrival of Marc and Alistair MacNeil. The two men entered together, though with
enough space between them to suggest they were neither comfortable nor happy in
