"William's bodyguards. Do come in; I've been expecting you."
He stepped back a pace and waited patiently as they made their way past him into the hall. He shut the door carefully and turned back to extend a slender, well-manicured hand. Hawk shook it firmly, and then gritted his teeth as Gaunt all but crushed his fingers in a powerful grip. He hated people who did that. Somehow he kept his polite smile in place, and then surreptitiously flexed his fingers as Gaunt turned to Fisher. The sorcerer took Fisher's hand and raised it to his lips. Hawk frowned slightly. He wasn't too keen on people who did that, either. Fisher smiled politely at the sorcerer. He wasn't quite what she'd expected. After Hawk's tale of what he'd found in the Hook, she'd been expecting someone more; impressive. With his mild grey eyes and pleasant smile, Gaunt just didn't look the part.
The sorcerer looked at the two Guards thoughtfully. "Captain Hawk and Captain Fisher," he said, after a moment. "I've heard of you."
"Nothing good, I hope," said Fisher, and Gaunt chuckled.
"You did an excellent job of taking care of the Chandler Lane vampire. Most impressive."
Hawk raised an eyebrow. "News travels fast in Haven."
Gaunt smiled. "I have my sources."
"Yeah," said Hawk. "I'll just bet you do."
"If you follow me," said the sorcerer politely. "Councilor Blackstone is already here, with some of my other guests."
He led the way down the hall to a heavy oaken door on the right. He pushed it open, and then stood back to usher the two Guards into the parlor. The guests looked briefly at Hawk and Fisher, took in the black cloaks, and went back to their conversations. Hawk looked casually about him, getting the feel of the place. Two huge windows were blocked off by closed wooden shutters, despite the heat. There was only the one door, leading into the hall. Hawk relaxed a little. If push came to shove, it shouldn't be too difficult to defend the parlor against an attack. Assuming anyone was suicidal enough to take on the sorcerer Gaunt in his own home.
Gaunt went over to Blackstone and spoke quietly to him. Blackstone glanced at Hawk and Fisher, excused himself to the witch Visage, and walked back with Gaunt to meet them. He shook them both by the hand; the usual quick, firm handshake of the seasoned politician.
"Glad you're both here," he said briskly. "I'm sure I'll feel a lot safer with you two at my side. It's only for the next few days, until my bill has become law. After that, the danger will be over."
"Really?" said Fisher. "The way I hear it, you've got more enemies in Haven than the Chancellor on tax day."
Blackstone laughed. "Well, the immediate danger, anyway. If I'd wanted a safe occupation, I wouldn't have entered politics."
"Well then, Councilor," said Hawk briskly, "what would you like us to do?"
"For tonight, just mingle with the guests and enjoy yourselves," said Blackstone pleasantly. "I'm in no danger here, not in Gaunt's house. Even my enemies know better than to risk his anger."
"You are always safe here, William," said Gaunt quietly. "This house is protected against any and all intrusions."
"And now, if you'll excuse us," said Blackstone, flashing a quick smile at Hawk and Fisher, "Gaunt and I have some business to discuss. Do help yourself to a drink and something to eat."
The politician and the sorcerer moved away, talking animatedly. Hawk and Fisher looked at each other.
"Free booze," said Fisher. "This may not be such a bad assignment after all."
"Yeah," said Hawk.
They made their way over to the punch bowl and helped themselves to the fruit cordial. Hawk wrinkled his nose at the taste, but drank it anyway. The room was hot, he was thirsty, and besides, it was free. Various canapes had been laid out beside the punch bowl, arranged in interesting patterns in the mistaken belief that this would make the food appear more appetizing. Hawk didn't even recognize half of it, but he tried one anyway, just to show himself willing.
"Not bad," he said indistinctly.
"I'm glad you think so," said Katherine Blackstone. "Gaunt prides himself on his culinary skills."
Hawk chewed and swallowed quickly to empty his mouth as the councilor's wife looked him and Fisher over. She seemed friendly enough, in a condescending way. Katherine's gaze lingered on Hawk more than Fisher, and he wondered if he'd imagined the sudden glitter in her eyes. The way she was acting, he half expected her to lean forward and pin a rosette on him.
"So you're the best the Guard could supply," said Katherine finally. "I do hope you're as fearsome as your reputation suggests."
"We try," said Hawk.
Katherine looked thoughtfully at his face. "The scars are certainly impressive, darling. What happened to your eye?"
"I lost it in a card game."
Katherine gave him a startled look, and then dissolved into giggles. It made her look much younger. "My dear, I think you won that one on points. Do help yourself to the spiced lamb; it's really quite delicious. I believe there's even some asparagus, though where Gaunt managed to get it at this time of the year is beyond me. Knowing a sorcerer does have its advantages, I suppose."
There was a pause, while they all busied themselves with the food. Fisher smiled suddenly as she bit into a piece of cold garlic sausage.
"We could have used some of this earlier today."
"What?" said Katherine. "Oh, the garlic. Gaunt was just telling us about the vampire before you arrived. Horrible creatures. Did you really kill it by driving a wooden stake through its heart?"
"Eventually," said Hawk.
"Such a pity about Trask," said Katherine. "I mean, he wasn't much of a Councilor, but he did a good enough job, and at least you knew where you were with him. And his was a marginal seat, you know. Now there'll have to be another election, and I hate to think who we might get in his place. Better the devil you know, and all that."
Hawk and Fisher nodded politely and said nothing. They hadn't told anyone about Trask being the vampire's Judas Goat. They just passed him off as another victim, along with his daughter. It was true enough, in a way. And besides, his widow was going to have a hard enough time as it was. Katherine Blackstone chattered on for a while, talking lightly about this and that, and then fluttered away to talk to Graham Dorimant. Hawk looked at Fisher.
"Well?" he said dryly. "What did you make of that?"
"Beats me," said Fisher. "Katherine Blackstone, coming on like an empty-headed socialite? That's not the woman I've heard so much about."
"Maybe it's a test of some kind. Checking us out to see if we're smart enough to see through the act."
Fisher scowled dubiously. "Could be, I suppose."
"Actually, it's a little more complicated than that," said the witch Visage.
Hawk and Fisher turned quickly to find her standing beside them. Hawk's hand dropped to his axe. He hadn't heard her approaching; Visage saw the movement, and smiled slightly.
"I'm not your enemy, Captain Hawk. In fact, I'm glad you're here. I've had a premonition about William."
Hawk and Fisher looked quickly at each other, and then back at the slender redhead before them.
"A premonition," said Hawk slowly. "You think he's in danger?"
"Yes. I'm Visage. I'm a witch. It's my job to protect William from magical threats. He should be safe enough here in Gaunt's house. I've never seen so many defensive spells. The place is crawling with them. And yet; there's a feeling in the air. It worries me. I've given William some extra protection, but still;"
"Have you sensed anything in particular?" asked Fisher quietly.
Visage shook her head, frowning. "Nothing definite. Somebody here, or close by, is planning a death; and the victim is either William or someone connected with him. That's all I can get."
"Have you told Blackstone?" asked Hawk.
"Of course. He isn't taking the threat seriously enough."
"Somebody here or close by," said Fisher. "Maybe we should check the grounds."
"I suggested that to Gaunt," said Visage. "He said no one could get
into the grounds or the house without his knowing." She looked at Hawk steadily. "Unless you do something to stop it, someone is going to die in this house. Tonight."
She turned suddenly and walked away. Hawk and Fisher watched her go.
"Great start to the party," said Hawk.
"Isn't it," said Fisher.
"Did you notice," said Hawk thoughtfully, "that she never did get around to explaining why Katherine Blackstone was acting out of character?"
"Yeah," said Fisher. "Interesting, that."
They looked at each other a moment, shrugged, and helped themselves to more of the fruit cordial.
"Who the hell would be desperate enough to attack Blackstone in Gaunt's house?" said Hawk. "All right. Gaunt isn't the most powerful sorcerer I've ever met, but I'd put him right up there in the top ten. I certainly wouldn't cross him without a damn good reason."
"Right," said Fisher. "If nothing else, our potential murderer must be pretty damn confident. Or crazy. Or both."
"Or he knows something we don't." Hawk scowled grimly. "Think we should say something to Blackstone?"
"Not yet," said Fisher. "What could we tell him that he doesn't already know? Besides, like you said, who could get to him here?"
"There's no place so well-defended that someone determined enough can't find a way in," said Hawk firmly. "After all, it might not be a direct attack. It could be something that's been planned in advance."
Fisher nodded slowly. "A prearranged spell, or curse. Or maybe they poisoned the food."
"Or the drink," said Hawk.
They looked at their empty glasses.
"Unlikely," said Fisher. "The witch said someone was planning a death tonight, not several. And anyway. Gaunt would surely be able to detect the presence of anything poisonous. Same for any spells."
"I suppose so," said Hawk. "All right, poison is out. But a direct attack seems even more unlikely. In order to get to Blackstone, an assassin would have to get past all of Gaunt's defenses, and then fight his way past us. There are assassins that good in the Low Kingdoms, but I don't really think Blackstone's important enough to warrant their attentions. No, I think a magical attack of some kind has to be the most likely."
"But according to the witch, this house is covered with defensive spells."
"Yeah." Hawk shook his head disgustedly. "Nothing's ever simple, is it? You know, Isobel, just once I think I'd like to work on a case that was simple and straightforward. Just for a change."
"So what are we going to do?" asked Fisher.
"Stay close to Blackstone, and watch everyone else very closely."
"Sounds like an excellent idea," said Dorimant.
Hawk and Fisher looked him over coldly, and Dorimant didn't miss the way their hands fell naturally to the weapons at their sides. He felt a sudden chill run down his spine. As a political adviser, Dorimant had mixed with some hard people in his time, but one look into Hawk's cold eye was enough to convince him that everything he'd heard about Hawk and Fisher was true. These people were dangerous. He smiled at them calmly, and hoped they'd put the sweat on his brow down to the heat.
"Allow me to introduce myself. Graham Dorimant, William's political adviser."
Hawk nodded politely. "I'm;"
"Oh, I know who you two are," said Dorimant quickly. "Everyone in Haven's heard of Hawk and Fisher."
"Fame at last," said Fisher dryly.
Dorimant chuckled. "Honest Guards are as rare as honest politicians. That's why I particularly asked for you as William's bodyguards."
"The witch says that Blackstone is in danger," said Fisher bluntly. "She thinks that someone's going to try and kill him tonight."
Dorimant frowned. "I wouldn't take Visage too seriously, Captain Fisher. She's good enough at her job, but she sees threats in every shadow."
"But Blackstone does have enemies," said Hawk.
"Oh, certainly. What politician doesn't? And William's policies aren't exactly aimed at making him popular with the vested interests who make this city the cesspool it is. But when all is said and done, he's safe here. Gaunt was telling me about some of his defenses earlier, and I can assure you that nothing and nobody gets into this house unless Gaunt says so. Believe me, William has absolutely nothing to worry about tonight."
"Unless one of his guests turns out to be an assassin," said Fisher.
Dorimant looked at her sharply. "Captain Fisher, everyone at this party is a friend of William's, and has been for years. Not one of them has anything to gain by his death. The only people at this party that I can't personally vouch for are you and Captain Hawk. And your reputations suggest you lack the taste for assassination work."
"Yeah," said Hawk. "The pay's good, but the working conditions are lousy."
Fisher nodded solemnly. Dorimant looked from one to the other, and then smiled reluctantly.
"Captain Hawk, Captain Fisher, right now William's under a lot of pressure. His political opponents are doing their best to sabotage his new bill, and there have been a few death threats. Usual anonymous rubbish. I thought having you two around for the next few days might make him feel a little more secure. All you have to do is stick with him, and don't let anyone within arm's reach of him unless I vouch for them. All right?"
"Sure," said Hawk. "I've done bodyguarding work before."
"Good," said Dorimant. "You do know you'll be staying the night here, along with the rest of us?"
"Yeah," said Fisher. "We didn't have time to pack a bag, but no doubt Gaunt can provide us with what we need."
"Of course," said Dorimant. "I'll have a word with him."
The doorbell rang, and Gaunt went into the hall to answer it. Hawk frowned slightly.
"Why does a sorcerer like Gaunt answer his own door? Doesn't he have any servants?"
Dorimant smiled. "Gaunt doesn't trust servants. Afraid they might be after his secrets, I suppose. Industrial espionage is rife among magicians."
"Secrets," said Fisher. "What do you know about Gaunt, sir Dorimant?"
"Not much. He's a private man. William knows him better than I do. There are rumors he used to be sorcerer to the King, until they had a falling out. The rumors don't say what they might have argued about. Gaunt's a quiet sort, usually. Don't think I've ever known him to raise his voice in anger. On the other hand, you know what he did in the Hook;"
"Yeah." Fisher scowled, her hand idly caressing the pommel of her sword. "I don't trust sorcerers."
"Not many people do," said Dorimant dryly. "But Gaunt is no threat to William. They've been friends for years."
He broke off as Gaunt came back into the parlor, accompanied by a tall, wiry man in his late twenties. He had a shock of long dark hair and a thick curly beard, so that most of his face was hidden from casual view. He smiled easily, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. He was dressed in the latest fashion, and wore it well. Considering that the latest fashion included tightly cut trousers and a padded jerkin with a chin-high collar, this was no mean achievement. It would have been easy to dismiss him as a dandy, if it hadn't been for the sword that hung at his left hip, in a well-worn scabbard. Blackstone and his wife went over to greet the newcomer.
"Now there's a man you can distrust," said Dorimant quietly. "Edward Bowman. William's right-hand man. A brilliant politician with a first-class mind. Watch him. The man's a rat."
Hawk frowned, and started to ask him more, but Dorimant was already walking away, heading back to the witch Visage. Hawk looked back at Bowman. Gaunt and Blackstone were deep in conversation, leaving Katherine chatting with Bowman. Hawk's eye narrowed as he watched them. There was nothing specific he could put his finger on, but there was something about the way Katherine and Bowman were talking together; They were too friendly. They smiled too much, their concentration was too intense, and they touched each other politely but too often.
"Yeah," said Fisher. "They're certainly glad to see each other, aren't they?"
"Probably just good friends," said Hawk
.
"Sure. Sure."
The doorbell sounded again, and Gaunt disappeared into the hall. Blackstone moved over to join Bowman and Katherine. Hawk watched closely, but couldn't see any obvious signs of tension between them. They all smiled a little too brightly and too often, but then, they were politicians; Hawk sighed, and looked away.
"I assume the bell means more guests," he said tiredly. "That's all we need; more suspects to watch."
"You worry too much," said Fisher, pouring herself more of the fruit cordial. "Look, all we've got to do is keep the man alive for the next three days until his bill becomes law. After that, the pressure will be off, and he won't need us anymore. Surely we can keep him out of trouble for three days."
Hawk shrugged, unconvinced. "I don't like coming onto a case unprepared. We don't know enough about what's going on here, and we certainly don't know enough about the people involved. Katherine Blackstone is acting out of character. Visage knows why, but won't tell us. Instead, she tells us that Councilor Blackstone is in danger, in one of the best-defended houses in the city. Blackstone's political adviser warns us about Blackstone's right-hand man, who turns out to be very friendly with the Councilor's wife. I've got a bad feeling about this, Isobel."
"You're always getting bad feelings."
"And I'm usually right."
Fisher chuckled affectionately. "We've had a long hard day, my love. It's just the tiredness talking, that's all. Blackstone is perfectly safe here. We're just window dressing. Now, have a drink, and relax a little. Okay?"
"Okay." Hawk smiled fondly at Fisher. "You were always the sensible one. What would I do without you, lass?"
"Beats the hell out of me," said Fisher, smiling. "Now, relax. Everything's going to be fine."
Gaunt came back into the parlor, and Hawk's heart sank. He knew the middle-aged couple with the sorcerer only too well. Lord and Lady Hightower were a prominent part of Haven's High Society. They moved in all the right circles, and knew all the right people. In a very real sense, they were part of the moneyed and influential elite who controlled Haven. They were also, surprisingly, two of Blackstone's strongest supporters.
Lord Roderik Hightower was a stocky, medium-height man in his early fifties. His short-cropped hair was iron grey, and his piercing dark eyes stared unyieldingly from a harsh, weatherbeaten face. Only a few years earlier, he'd been the Chief Commander of the Low Kingdoms' army, and a legend in his own lifetime. He always led his men into battle, and he was always the last to retreat. His grasp of strategy was second to none, and he had guts of solid steel. A soldier's soldier. He was still solidly muscled, but signs of wear were finally beginning to show. He was getting slower, and old wounds gnawed at him when it rained. He'd retired from the army rather than accept the desk job they offered him, and had immediately looked for a new challenge with which to occupy himself. He finally settled on politics, and took on the campaign to clean up Haven with the same determination and gusto he'd shown in his army days.
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