'No, I probably couldn't. But if you did leave, Glen would undoubtedly have you
declared a rogue, and put out an order for your arrest. And how is that going to
help Hawk?'
Fisher glared at ap Owen, then nodded reluctantly and sank back into her chair.
'That's why Glen sent me here, so Hawk would be left alone with his guilt. He's
always easiest to manipulate when he's feeling guilty. Glen wants Hawk to go on
believing it was his fault, so he'll be properly motivated to go after Morgan.
Damn him!'
There was an uncomfortable silence. When Fisher finally spoke again, her voice
was calm and cold and very deadly. 'When this is all over, there's going to be
an accounting between me and Commander bloody Glen.'
'Assuming we get out of this alive,' said ap Owen.
Fisher glanced at him sharply. 'You're a real cheerful sort, you know that?'
'Just being realistic. Let me fill you in on the six delegates taking part in
the Talks. They're a pretty rum bunch themselves, particularly the Outremer
delegates. They were mad as hell when they arrived. Apparently it took them the
best part of five weeks to get here through the winter weather, and that was
before the worst of the storms hit. I don't see why they couldn't have just
teleported in.'
'Teleports don't work that way,' said Fisher. 'It's hard enough to shift one
person over a short distance. There isn't a sorcerer alive with the kind of
magic it would take to teleport three people from one country to another. There
are lots of nasty ways for a teleport to go wrong. Get the decimal point in the
wrong place and you could end up appearing a hundred feet above your
destination. Or under it.'
'I didn't realize you were such an expert,' said ap Owen dryly.
Fisher shrugged. 'I've had some experience with traveling that way.'
'Actually, the weather is something of a blessing. The storms are keeping
Outremer's more disruptive elements from getting here. Let's just hope the
storms continue till the Talks are over.'
'Maybe someone should have a word with the city weather wizards.'
'No, low profile, remember? Nothing that would attract attention.'
'True. All right, tell me about the delegates. Who's representing the Low
Kingdoms? Anyone I might have heard of?'
'Maybe. Lord Regis is heading the home team. This is his house we're in.
Mid-forties, old Haven Family, good reputation, with an impressive background in
the army and the diplomatic corps. Can't say I warm to him myself. Smiles too
much, and takes too long to shake your hand. Likes to clap you on the shoulder
while looking you right in the eye. Hail-fellow-well-met type. He gets on my
nerves something fierce, but he goes down well enough with the other delegates.
'Then there's Jonathon Rook, representing the Merchants Association. Early
forties, and better padded than the average sofa. He likes his food, does
Jonathon. Sharp as a tack when it comes to business, but he does love a title.
Practically milorded Regis to death this morning, while we were waiting for the
Outremer delegates to show up. Word is he's angling for a Family marriage for
his eldest, more fool he.
'And finally, there's Major Patrik Comber. You've probably heard of him. Led his
battalion into Death's Hollow to rescue a company of his men who'd been cut off
by Outremer troops. Took on better than five-to-one odds, and kicked their arses
something cruel. Won all sorts of medals, and a swift promotion. He also
sacrificed a lot of good men in the process, but the minstrels don't usually
mention that.'
Fisher grinned. 'I can see you're going to be a real barrel of laughs on this
job. How about the Outremer delegates? Do you like them any better?'
'Not much. The leader is Lord Nightingale. Pleasant enough sort, but I don't
think I'll turn my back on him. He's got cold eyes. Then there's William
Gardener for the merchants, and Major Guy de Tournay. Can't tell you much about
them. Gardener likes his drink and talks too loudly, while de Tournay's hardly
opened his mouth to me since he got here.'
Fisher frowned thoughtfully. 'Interesting that both sides have put forward a
lord. The Quality aren't normally considered expendable. Particularly not
someone as noticeable as Lord Regis. And from what I've heard, Major Comber's
something of a popular hero at the moment. The Powers That Be must be taking
these Talks pretty seriously.'
'Seems likely. Both sides have been losing a lot of men and equipment in the
border skirmishes, and it's getting expensive. You know how the Powers That Be
hate to lose money. Of course, they hate to lose face even more, which is why
it's taken till now to set the Talks up.'
'All right. Fill me in on what security measures you've set up here. If we're
not allowed to call attention to ourselves, it cuts our options down to
practically nothing, doesn't it?'
'You've got that right,' said ap Owen grimly. 'For all the good we'd be in a
real crisis, we might as well not be here. I take it you spotted the
plainclothes people outside? I'd be surprised if you hadn't; everyone else knows
who and what they are. Luckily, they're just opt there for show. My real
undercover operatives have been here for days, establishing their characters and
getting to know the area. We didn't just choose this place on a whim, you know.
Both the grounds and the surrounding streets are wide open, with nowhere to
hide. The way we've got things set up, no one can get within a hundred yards of
this house without being spotted a dozen times. And since we haven't a hope in
hell of beating off an armed assault, at the first whisper of an attack, or even
an intended attack, the plan is for all of us to retreat into the pocket
dimension and seal it off.
'In theory, we should then be perfectly safe. No one can get at us without the
proper co-ordinates, known only to a top few people, so all we have to do is sit
tight and wait until reinforcements arrive, and the emergency is over. Of
course, there's always the very real possibility that the delegates themselves
will seal off the dimension at the first whiff of trouble, leaving us out here
to fight off the attackers. In which case, we get to earn our money the hard
way. Got it?'
Fisher nodded glumly. In other words, it was another damned watching brief. Lots
of sitting around doing nothing, waiting for something to happen and hoping it
wouldn't. It was at times like these that Fisher seriously considered the simple
pleasures of a desk job, and the security to be found in lots of nice safe
paperwork. Of course, she'd be bored out of her mind in a week… Ah well, if
nothing else, she should be able to catch up on her sleep here. Working two
shifts in a row had drained most of her strength, and helping Hawk drag
survivors out of the tenement rubble had all but finished her off. She felt as
if she could go to sleep right there in her chair, She caught herself slumping
