Though really, deep down, he’d already decided what he was going to do. Whatever she said, whatever she’d done; it didn’t matter. Once before he’d given up everything he had for her sake, and he wouldn’t hesitate to do it again if he had to. There were other cities, other countries they could go to, and it wouldn’t be the first time they’d had to change their names.
But he had to find her soon, before the Guard did. She wouldn’t go to any of her usual haunts; too many other people knew about them. There had to be some place she’d regard as safe, some place she’d think no one knew about but her.... The Tolling Bell. That had to be it. Isobel often disappeared there when she lost an argument or was feeling broody.
A shout went up not too far away, as a sudden gust of wind caught the edge of his hood and flipped it back, revealing his face. Hawk pulled the hood back into position, but the damage had been done. Two Guard Constables were running towards him, swords drawn. Hawk looked quickly around for an escape route, but they were all blocked by curious onlookers eager for some free entertainment. Hawk cursed unemotionally, straightened up, and drew his axe. He shrugged his cloak back out of the way and stamped the snow flat to give him better footing. He hefted his axe thoughtfully, and waited for the two Constables to come within range. He didn’t want to kill them if he could avoid it. They were just doing their job. As far as they were concerned, he was a rogue and a traitor. But he couldn’t let them stop him. Isobel’s life might depend on his getting to her before anyone else did.
The Constables slowed their pace as they drew near Hawk, and moved apart to take him from two directions at once. Hawk picked the nearest one, and launched himself forward. He ducked under the Constable’s wild swing, the sword blade tugging briefly at the top of his hood, and slammed his shoulder into the Constable’s gut. The man folded in half and fell away, gasping for air. Hawk clubbed him forcefully across the back of the head with the butt of his axe, and then spun round just in time to block an attack from the other Constable.
The two of them stamped back and forth, feinting and withdrawing, each trying to make the other commit himself. Hawk faked a stumble, and went down on one knee. The Constable immediately fell back a step, too old a hand to be taken in by such an obvious stunt, and Hawk hit him in the face with the handful of snow he’d palmed when he went down. The Constable staggered back, lashing out blindly with his sword while he tried to claw the snow out of his eyes with his free hand. Hawk timed it carefully, stepped in during a brief moment when the Constable left himself open, and kicked him in the groin.
The Constable went down without a sound, and Hawk clubbed him unconscious. He nodded once, satisfied, and then froze as a shout went up again, some way behind him. He looked round and saw six more Constables charging down the street towards him. Hawk turned on his heel and ran for the nearest alleyway. If he had to take on six-to-one odds with no one to guard his back, someone was definitely going to end up dead. Quite possibly him. The people in the alley mouth scattered as he bore down on them axe in hand, and he plunged past them into the concealing gloom of the narrow passageway. His best bet was to try and lose his pursuers in the maze of back streets and cul de sacs. He knew this area, and the odds were they didn’t. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to outrun them. He was already short of breath. It had been a long day, and the end was nowhere in sight.
He scowled to himself as he ran. Running from a mere six-to-one odds. If this got out, he’d never live it down.
Captain ap Owen watched with interest as Commander Glen sat glowering behind his desk, painfully growling orders to a steady stream of visitors. He kept an ice pack pressed against his face. A quite spectacular bruise was spreading across his jaw and peeking round the edges of the ice pack. People came and went in sudden rushes and flurries, darting into the office to deliver updated reports and possible sightings, and then quickly disappearing before Glen could turn his glare on them. But for all their bustle and effort, it was clear they were no nearer locating Hawk or Fisher.
“They can’t just have vanished,” protested Captain Burns, pacing back and forth, and occasionally raising a hand to feel gingerly at the back of his head. He claimed to have a hell of a bump there, but no one else had seen it. Ap Owen thought it was probably more hurt pride than anything else. Burns glared at ap Owen as though it were all his fault, and ap Owen quickly looked away, somehow keeping a smile off his face. It had to be said, he’d never much cared for Bums. Too interested in looking good, that one. Probably had a great career ahead of him—in administration.
“We’ll find them,” said Glen slowly, trying hard not to move his mouth when he spoke. “We’ve got their house staked out, and all their usual haunts. The city Gates have been sealed, so they can’t get out of Haven. All we have to do now is run them to ground ...” He broke off abruptly as a wave of pain hit him, but his eyes were still hot and furious.
“We’re leaning on all the usual informants,” said ap Owen. “Most of them are falling over themselves at a chance to do Hawk and Fisher some dirt. Those two have made an awful lot of enemies during their short time in Haven.”
Burns sniffed. “No honour among thieves. Or traitors.”
Ap Owen raised an eyebrow. “That’s hardly fair, Bums. Up until now, Hawk and Fisher have always had an exemplary reputation.”
“You have got to be joking. Everyone knows about the brutal tactics they use. They don’t care who they hurt or intimidate, and they kill anyone who gets in their way. I’ve even heard it said they plant evidence and manufacture confessions, just to make their arrest rate look good. They’re no better than thugs in uniform.”
“They always upheld the law.”
“When it suited them,” said Burns. “Anybody can be bought, for the right price.”
Ap Owen shrugged unhappily, and looked across at Glen. “With respect, Commander, I think our quarry have more than enough sense to keep clear of all their usual haunts. Is there anywhere they might go, that they might think we don’t know about? You were with Hawk all day, Bums. Did he mention any place to you?”
“If he had, I’d have said so!” snapped Burns. “Why aren’t you out there looking for them? You’ve got twenty men under you. Why aren’t you out combing the streets?”
“What’s the point?” said ap Owen mildly. “We’ve got half an army out there as it is; adding my people to that pack would only give them someone else to trip over. Besides, I don’t want my men wandering aimlessly about in the cold, or they won’t be worth spit when we finally get a chance to arrest Hawk or Fisher. Or both. In fact, the more I think about it, the more sure I am they’ll have joined up by now. They always were very devoted to each other.”
“I don’t know,” said Glen indistinctly, from behind his ice pack. “Hawk seemed honestly shocked when he heard the news about Fisher’s treachery. I think there’s a real chance he may not be involved in the treason himself.”
“If he wasn’t a traitor before, he is now,” said Burns. “He’s defied lawful orders and assaulted a superior officer. And right now you can bet he’s doing his utmost to help the traitor Fisher to escape justice. Even though her actions may have helped to start a war.”
“Calm down,” said ap Owen. “It isn’t that bad. Yet. The delegates are still talking to each other, even if it’s not on an official basis at the moment. There’s still hope. In the meantime, guilty or not, I think we can assume Hawk is doing his best to locate Fisher. And since he’s much more likely to figure out where she’s hidden herself than we are, I think we can also assume that when we finally catch up with them, they’re going to be together. And together, they’re the most formidable fighting machine Haven has ever seen. I’m not sure I can take them, even with twenty men under me. Which is why, Captain Burns, my men are staying here, warm and rested, until they’re needed. I don’t want them worn out from chasing round Haven after every unconfirmed sighting.”
“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 comer, 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 recognised 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 recognised 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.