The two traders. Rook and Gardener, were talking together quite amicably,
smiling and laughing as they rummaged through the out-of-season delicacies on
the trays. Fisher's stomach rumbled, but she made herself pay attention to the
two merchants. William Gardener of Outremer was in his early forties, with
thinning hair and a droopy moustache. He was skinny as a rake, but wore clothes
of the very latest cut with casual elegance. Jonathon Rook was the same age, and
dressed just as well, but had the kind of figure politely referred to as stout.
His hands were weighed down with jeweled rings, and he paid little or no
attention to the expensive food with which he was stuffing his face. Fisher
moved in a little closer to listen in on their conversation. They both
studiously ignored her, which suited her fine. It soon became clear that both
merchants thought they had a lot to lose in the event of a war, and were
pressing for peace at practically any cost. It was also clear they were finding
it an uphill struggle.
Major Comber and Major de Tournay stood a little way off from the others,
talking quietly and only picking at their food. They were both in their late
thirties, with short-cropped hair and grim faces. They'd swapped their uniforms
for civilian clothes, and Fisher was hard put to tell which of them looked the
most uncomfortable. They both glared at her when she got too close, so she
didn't get to overhear what they were saying. She sensed, however, that neither
one was too pleased with the way the Talks were going, from which she deduced
that neither side had gained the upper hand yet.
They all finally put down their plates and turned away from the table. Captain
ap Owen coughed loudly, and then again, louder still, and having got their
attention, introduced Fisher to each of them. Fisher bowed formally, and got a
series of perfunctory nods in reply. Lord Regis smiled at her coldly.
'Good to have you with us, Captain. Your reputation precedes you.'
'You don't want to believe everything you hear,' said Fisher easily. 'Only the
bad bits.'
Regis smiled politely. 'Is your partner, Captain Hawk, not here with you?'
'He's working on a case of his own at the moment, and can't leave it, I'm
afraid. But not to worry, my lord. You're safe in our hands.'
'I'm sure we shall be.'
'I trust you'll pardon my interruption,' said Lord Nightingale, looking only at
Lord Regis, 'but we are rather short of time. Perhaps you could continue this
conversation later…'
'Of course,' said Regis.
He nodded politely to Fisher and ap Owen, and turned to face the far wall. The
door reappeared, and swung silently open. Fisher shivered suddenly. She tried to
see what lay beyond the door, but there was only an impenetrable darkness. The
delegates filed through, and the door swung shut behind them and vanished.
Fisher sank back into her chair and stretched out her legs. This was going to be
a long, hard job, she could tell. She looked thoughtfully at the food left on
the table, but didn't have the energy to get up and go after it. She hoped Hawk
was taking it easy, wherever he was, but doubted it. Without her to keep an eye
on him, there was no telling what he'd get up to.
Chapter Four
A Matter of Trust
Hawk led Captain Burns into the rotten heart of the Northside. The streets grew
steadily narrower, choked with filthy snow and slush, and bustling crowds that
made way for the two Guards without ever looking at them directly. Even so, they
made slow progress, and Hawk had to fight to control his impatience. The
pressure seemed to be bearing down on him from every side now, but he knew his
only hope of dealing with it was to stay calm and controlled. His enemies would
be delighted to see him striking out blindly in all directions and missing the
real targets. Besides, he didn't want to spook Burns. And yet behind his grim,
impassive face, Hawk's thoughts danced restlessly from one problem to another,
searching for answers that eluded him. The super-chacal was out there somewhere,
poised to sweep across the city in a tidal wave of blood and death. Morgan was
out there too, hidden somewhere safe and plotting the deaths of everyone who
knew the truth about his new drug. Not to mention Hammer, the gang leader from
the Devil's Hook, and his threatened vendetta.
And also back at the Hook, the little girl Hawk had rescued from underneath the
wreckage was lying in a hospital bed, still in a coma. The doctors didn't know
whether she'd ever regain consciousness.
On top of all that, the Guard wanted his scalp for screwing up, and they'd taken
Isobel away from him. Some days you just couldn't get a break. Hawk realized
Burns was speaking to him, and looked round sharply.
'I'm sorry. What?'
'I said,' Burns repeated patiently, 'is it always this bad here? I'd heard
stories, of course, but this place is disgusting.'
Hawk looked around at the squalid buildings and the ragged people, and the
overriding sense of violence and despair that rose from them like an almost
palpable mist. After five years working the Northside he'd grown inured to most
of the misery and suffering, for the sake of his sanity, but it still disturbed
him enough to appreciate how bad it must seem to an outsider. Haven was a dark
city wherever you looked, but the Northside was dark enough to stamp out the
light in anyone's soul eventually. Hawk realized Burns was still looking at him
for an answer, and he shrugged harshly.
'It's quiet today, if anything. The snow and the cold are keeping most people
off the streets, even the beggars, and those who are out and about aren't
hanging around long enough to start any trouble. But you can bet that somewhere,
someone is starting a fight, or stabbing someone in the back for no good reason.
There's all sorts of crime here, everything you'd expect in an area as poor as
this, but the violence never ends. To a Northsider, everyone is an enemy, out to
steal what little he has, and most of the time he's right. There's little love
or comfort here, Burns, and even less hope. And the only thing the Northsiders
hate more than each other is an outsider. Like us.'
'How do you cope with working here?' said Burns. 'I'd go crazy in a week.'
Hawk shrugged. 'I've seen worse. All you can do is try and make a difference for
the best, where you can. What brought you here from the Westside?'
'Doughty and I were filling in for some Guards who were down with the flu. When
I heard they were sending us here, I seriously thought about calling in sick
myself, but of course it was too late by then. Doughty didn't mind. There wasn't
much that bothered him.'
'I'm sorry about your partner,' said Hawk.
'Yeah. He had a wife, you know. Separated three years back, but… Someone will
have told her by now. I should have done it myself, but she never liked me
anyway.'
