Guard Against Dishonor Page 17

  "Thank you, Captain," said Glen heavily. "I think you've made your point." He scowled at ap Owen and Burns, and then stared unseeingly at the papers on his desk, his fingers drumming quietly as he thought. "Hawk said something once, about Fisher having a special place to go to be on her own, when she wanted to get away from everything. He told me about it one time, when we were looking for her in an emergency and couldn't find her. It was an inn. The something Bell. The Tolling Bell, that was it."

  "What district?" said ap Owen.

  "How the hell should I know? Find out!"

  Ap Owen rose to his feet. "It's got to be somewhere near their home. Shouldn't be too hard to find someone here who lives in that area. I'll let you know the minute I've got word, Commander; then I'll move in with my men while you have the area surrounded. Maybe we can talk Hawk and Fisher into giving up. I don't see any point in getting my people killed if I can avoid it."

  "It's not as simple as that," said Glen slowly. "I have my orders, Captain ap Owen, and I'm passing them on to you. Hawk and Fisher are to be brought in dead. We're not interested in their capture or surrender. Our superiors have decided that they can't be allowed to stand trial. They know too many secrets, too many things the Council can't afford to have discussed in public. So Hawk and Fisher are going to die resisting arrest. That's the way our superiors want it, and that's the way it's going to be. Understand?"

  "Yes, Commander," said ap Owen. "I understand. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

  "I'm going with you," said Burns. "I have a personal stake in this."

  Ap Owen glanced at Commander Glen, who nodded brusquely. Ap Owen crossed over to the door without looking at Burns, and left the Commander's office. Burns followed him out. Glen stared at the papers on his desk for a long time before returning to his work.

  Fisher slipped into The Tolling Bell tavern with her hood pulled low, and ordered an ale by pointing and grunting. The bartender drew her off a pint without commenting. You got all sorts in The Tolling Bell. Fisher paid for her drink and quickly settled herself in a dark corner, careful to avoid her usual booth. She took a long swallow of the bitter ale, wiped the froth from her upper lip with care, so as not to disturb her hood, and only then allowed herself to relax a little. She'd always thought of The Bell as a sanctuary, a place apart from the cares and duties of her life, and now she needed that feeling more than ever. She looked around casually, checking the place out.

  The inn was quiet, not surprising given the time of day, with only a dozen or so customers. Fisher recognized all of them as regulars. They'd mind their own business. They always did.

  Hawk's gone berserk. He's killing anyone who gets in his way.

  Fisher squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't want to believe that what she'd heard was true, but it could be. It could be. And if it were… she didn't know what to do for the best. She couldn't let him go on as he was. If he really had gone berserk, innocent people might get hurt, even killed. She couldn't risk looking for him herself; she might unknowingly lead the Guard right to him. But she couldn't just abandon him, either. She had to do something… something, while there was still time.

  In the street outside, Hawk leaned against a wall and looked casually about him. No one seemed to be paying him any untoward attention. He was pretty sure he hadn't been followed since he shook off the pursuing Constables, but he wasn't taking any chances. He approved of Fisher's choice of inn. The Tolling Bell was quiet, off the beaten track and nicely anonymous. Not at all the kind of place you'd expect to find Captains Hawk and Fisher. He took one last look around, pulled his hood even lower, and ducked in through the open doorway.

  He strolled over to the bar, and ordered a beer by grunting and pointing. The bartender looked at him for a moment, and then drew him a pint. Hawk paid the man, put his back against the bar, and sipped his beer thoughtfully as he looked about him. The other customers ignored him completely, but one figure near the back seemed to be going out of its way to avoid looking in his direction.

  Fisher's heart beat painfully fast, and she clutched her glass until her knuckles showed white. She had recognized Hawk the moment he entered the inn. She knew the way he walked, the way he moved… He'd spotted her. She could tell from the way his stance suddenly changed. Her thoughts raced furiously. Why was he just standing there? Had he come to take her in? Did he want Morgan so badly now, he'd even sacrifice her in return for a clear shot at the drug baron? He's gone rogue. Killing anyone who gets in his way. Anyone.

  She shoved her chair back from the table and sprang to her feet. She swept her cloak over her shoulders, out of the way, and drew her sword. She couldn't let Hawk take her in. He didn't understand what was going on. They'd kill her, once she was safely out of the public eye, to be sure of appeasing the Outremer delegates. She couldn't let Hawk take her in.

  Hawk shrugged his own cloak back out of the way, and drew his axe as she drew her sword. What little he could see of her face looked strained and desperate. She must be a traitor. She's betrayed everyone. She betrayed you. There were frantic scrambling sounds all around as the other customers hurried to get out of the way. A tense, echoing silence filled the room.

  She's a traitor. All the evidence proves it. She drew a sword on you. You can't trust her anymore.

  He's a rogue. He's gone berserk, out of control. He's killed people all over Haven. You can't trust him anymore.

  Hawk slowly straightened up out of his fighting stance, and put away his axe. He pushed back his hood, and walked slowly towards Isobel. She straightened up and lowered her sword. Hawk stopped before her, easily in reach of her sword, and smiled at her.

  "It's all right, Isobel. I don't care what you've done. You must have had a good reason for it. If you don't want me with you, if you feel you have to… leave me behind, that's all right. I'll understand. All that matters to me is that you're safe."

  Fisher slammed her sword back into its scabbard, and hugged Hawk fiercely, crushing the breath out of him. "You damned fool, Hawk! As if I could ever leave you…"

  They clung together for a while, happy and secure in each other's arms, eyes squeezed shut, as if they could close out everything in the world except the two of them. The other customers slowly began to settle down again, though still keeping a wary eye on the embracing couple. Eventually, reluctantly, Hawk and Fisher broke apart, and stepped back to look at each other properly. Hawk's mouth twitched.

  "That is a really horrible-looking cloak, Isobel."

  "You should talk. What the hell have you been up to, Hawk? I've been hearing all kinds of crazy things about you."

  Hawk grinned. "Most of them are probably true. You should hear what they've been saying about you."

  They sat down together at Fisher's table, and brought each other up to date on the day's events. It took a while, not least because there were a lot of things they weren't too sure about themselves, but eventually they both ran down, and sat quietly, thinking hard. A growing murmur of conversation rose around them, as the inn's customers disappointedly decided that there wasn't going to be any more action after all.

  "Somebody's been setting us up," said Hawk finally.

  "Both of us. We've been led around by the nose all day long, and we were so tied up in our own concerns we never even noticed. But the way things are, no one's going to believe us, no matter what we say. You know, we could still make a run for it. I know a forger who could knock us out new identities in under an hour."

  Fisher looked at him. "Do you want to run?"

  "Well, no, not really, but I thought you…"

  "That was different. I thought I was on my own then. But now…"

  "Right," said Hawk. "No one sets us up and gets away with it. The trouble is, who the hell did it to us? I thought for a long time it was Morgan, but that turned out not to be the case."

  "Pity," said Fisher. "It would have simplified things. He said the drug was developed by outside money… so presumably the people behind Morgan are our real enemies. Whoever they a
re. It's not just the drug; they've got to be connected with the Peace Talks in some way as well. Maybe they were banking on the chaos the super-chacal would cause to break up the Talks, or at least keep the Guard so occupied they couldn't protect the delegates properly. Wait a minute… wait just a minute. All that talk of outside money could refer to outside the Low Kingdoms; meaning Outremer."

  "Right," said Hawk. "I thought that as well. We need a wedge, something or someone we can use to force open this case and let in a little light. Look, just because you're not a traitor, it doesn't mean there isn't one. Someone removed those drugs from Headquarters, and sabotaged the Talks by revealing the house's location and the coordinates of the pocket dimension. Who is there that's been as closely involved in this case as you and I, and had the opportunity to do all the things you've been accused of doing?"

  "If the rumors are to be believed, it's a Guard Captain," said Fisher, scowling thoughtfully into her drink. "A well-respected Captain, too honest and too trusted ever to be suspected. But the only other Captain in this case is…" A sudden inspiration stirred in her, and she stared at Hawk, her eyes widening. "No, it couldn't be. Not him. Not Burns."

  "Why not? He had the opportunity." Hawk nodded grimly, his thoughts racing furiously. "It has to be him; he fits all the facts. And remember, one of Morgan's people at the drug factory said he recognized one of the Captains who took part in the raid as someone who worked for Morgan. He actually fingered you, but presumably by then he'd been got at. So, if it wasn't you, it had to be one of the other Captains. We can forget Doughty because he's dead, and we know it wasn't us, so that just leaves Burns! Dammit, I always thought he was too good to be true!"

  "Wait a minute," said Fisher. "Let's not get carried away with this. How could Burns have sabotaged the Peace Talks?"

  Hawk frowned. "It wouldn't have been difficult for him to get the information. He's been in and out of Headquarters all day, just like us. I feel like an idiot, Isobel. It's no wonder I've been walking into traps all day; Burns must have been reporting our position every time my back was turned!"

  "It also explains why he killed Morgan," said Fisher. "He was afraid Morgan might finger him, as a way of saving his own neck. We've found our traitor, Hawk. Burns is behind everything bad that's happened to us today."

  "Never liked him," said Hawk. "I wish now I'd hit him harder, when I had the chance."

  "A well-respected Captain that no one would suspect. The rumors were right about that, at any rate. I never even heard a whisper about corruption concerning Burns." Fisher frowned suddenly. "You know, Hawk, this isn't going to be easy to prove. Who's going to take the word of two suspected traitors and renegades like us against a paragon of virtue like Burns?"

  "We'll just have to find him, and persuade him to tell them the truth."

  "No rough stuff, Hawk. He'd only claim he was intimidated into saying what we wanted him to say, and with our reputation, they'd believe him. We need evidence. Hard evidence."

  "All right, but first we've got to find him. And that's not going to be easy either. He could be anywhere in Haven. Where are we supposed to start looking?"

  "Right here," said Burns.

  They looked up quickly, hands dropping to their weapons, and there was Burns standing by the bar, with ap Owen beside him. Guard Constables were filing quickly into the inn, swords at the ready. Once again the customers scrambled to get out of the way. Hawk and Fisher rose slowly to their feet and moved away from the table, ostentatiously keeping their hands well away from their weapons. More Guards entered the inn. Hawk counted twenty in all. If the situation hadn't been so grim, Hawk might have felt flattered they'd felt it necessary to send so many men after him and Isobel. As it was, he was more interested in trying to spot a quick escape route.

  "Getting old, Hawk," said Burns casually. "You weren't even bothering to watch the door. There was a time we wouldn't have caught you this easily."

  "We're not caught yet," said Hawk. "But I'm glad you're here, Burns. There's a lot of things Isobel and I want to discuss with you."

  "The time for talk is over," said Burns. "In fact, your time has just run out."

  "Drop your weapons on the floor, please," said ap Owen steadily. "You're under arrest, Captains."

  Burns looked around, startled, and glared at ap Owen. "Those were not our orders! You obey Commander Glen's orders, or I'll have you put under arrest!" He gestured quickly to the watching Constables. "You have your instructions. Kill them both."

  Hawk's axe was suddenly in his hands, the heavy blade gleaming hungrily in the lamplight. Fisher stood at his side, sword at the ready. Hawk grinned nastily at the other Guards.

  "When you're ready, gentlemen. Who wants to die first?"

  The Guards looked at each other. Nobody moved.

  "I think we'll be leaving now," said Hawk calmly. "If anyone tries to follow us, I'll take it as a personal insult. Now, stand clear of the door."

  He almost brought it off. He was Hawk, after all. But Burns suddenly stepped forward, sword in hand, and his angry voice broke the atmosphere.

  "What the hell are you waiting for?" he said to his men. "You outnumber them ten to one, and they're both dog-tired from chasing round the city all day! Now carry out your orders, or I swear I'll see every man of you arrested for aiding and abetting known traitors!"

  The Constables' faces hardened, and they moved slowly forward, fanning out to attack Hawk and Fisher from as many sides as possible. Hawk and Fisher moved quickly to stand back to back. Fisher looked appealingly at Captain ap Owen.

  "Listen to me, ap Owen. You know this isn't right. This whole thing's a setup. There are things going on here you don't know about. Listen to me, please, for Haven's sake."

  Ap Owen looked at her uncertainly. Burns glared at ap Owen.

  "Don't listen to her. The bitch would say anything to save her neck."

  "Watch your mouth, Burns," said ap Owen. "Stay where you are, men. No one is to start anything without my order. Unless any of you really want to go one-on-one with Captain Hawk."

  The Constables lowered their swords and relaxed a little, some of them looking openly relieved. Burns started to say something angrily, and then stopped when he realized ap Owen's sword was pressed against his side.

  "I think we've heard enough from you, Captain Burns," said ap Owen. "Now please be quiet, while I listen to what Captain Fisher has to say."

  "To start with," said Fisher, "take a look at Hawk. Does he really look like he's gone kill-crazy? The only person here who fits that description is Burns, the very person who's been supplying all the evidence against Hawk. As for me, I was set up. Do you really think I'd have stuck around to defend the Talks if I'd known there was an army of mercenaries on the way? Or retreated into the pocket dimension with you if I'd known it was going to be under attack, too? No, there's only one traitor here, and he's standing right beside you."

  "You see," said Burns. "I told you she'd say anything. She'll be accusing you next. We have to kill them, or the Outremer delegates will walk out! Dammit, ap Owen, you follow your orders or I swear I'll see you hanged as a traitor yourself!"

  "Oh, shut up," said ap Owen. "I'm getting really tired of the sound of your voice, Burns." He looked at Hawk and Fisher. "Let's assume, just for the moment, that there may be something in what you say. That buys you a reprieve. But I've still got to take you in. If you'll hand over your weapons, I give you my word that I'll get you back to Headquarters alive and unharmed, and you can tell your story to Commander Glen. Sound fair to you?"

  "Very fair," said Fisher. "I promise you, you won't regret this."

  Ap Owen smiled slightly. "I'm already regretting it. Ah hell; I was never that interested in promotion anyway."

  Burns stepped forward suddenly and addressed the Constables, who were stirring uneasily and looking at each other. "Men, Commander Glen himself put me in charge of you, along with ap Owen. You know what your orders are. Now, whose orders are you going to follow—your Comman
der's, or a Captain who is clearly allied with the traitors Hawk and Fisher?"

  The Guards looked at ap Owen, and then back at Burns. They didn't have to say anything; Burns could see the decision in their faces. They didn't trust him, and they weren't going to take on Hawk and Fisher if they didn't have to. Burns turned suddenly, slapped ap Owen's sword aside, and ran for the door. The Constables moved instinctively to stop him, and Burns cut about him viciously with his sword. Hawk and Fisher charged after him. Men fell screaming as blood flew on the air. Burns plunged forward, his eyes fixed on the door.

  He'd almost made it when Hawk brought him down with a last, desperate leap. They rolled back and forth on the floor, kicking and struggling. The Constables crowded in around them, hacking and cutting at Burns, furious at his treacherous attack. Hawk fought back with his axe, as much to protect himself as Burns. He shouted that they needed Burns alive, but the Guards were too angry to care. Ap Owen yelled orders that no one listened to. Fisher threw herself into the fray, hauling Guards away from the fight by main force and sheer determination, but there were too many Guards between her and Hawk, and she knew it. The Constables fought each other to get at Burns, blinded by blood and rage. Hawk tried to get his feet under him, and failed. Swords flew all around him, and blood pooled on the floor. He braced himself for one last effort, and hardened his heart at the thought of the innocent Guards he'd have to kill. He couldn't let Burns die.

  And then a thick fog boiled in through the open door, filling the inn in a matter of moments. A hundred clammy tentacles tore the combatants apart and held them firmly in unyielding misty coils. There was a pause as they all struggled futilely, and then the sorceress Mistique stepped delicately in through the open door. Hawk relaxed and grinned at her.