Swords of Haven: The Adventures of Hawk & Fisher
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Some things can never be forgiven.
Chapter 1 - A HiddEN DARkNESS
Chapter 2 - FRIENDS, ENEMIES AND POLITICIANS
Chapter 3 - QUESTIONS ANd ANSWERS
Chapter 4 - SECRETS
Chapter 5 - Blood iN ThE NiGhT
Chapter 6 - Killer’s Rage
Chapter 7 - A HiddEN Evil
WINNER TAKES All
Chapter 1 - ThE Hollow MEN
Chapter 2 - A Gathering of FORCES
Chapter 3 - WOLVES IN The Fold
Chapter 4 - VARIOUS Kinds of TRUTH
Chapter 5 - HARlEQUIN ANd OTHER BEiNGS
Chapter 6 - TRUTH ANd CONSEQUENCES
Chapter 7 - DESPERATE CHOICES
Chapter 8 - RESCUES
Chapter 9 - WINNERS ANd LOSERS
Chapter 10 - MAKING DEALS
The God Killer - Prologue
Chapter 1 - KILLER ON THE LOOSE
Chapter 2 - THE GOD SQUAd
Chapter 3 - Gods ANd DEvils ANd OTHER BEiNGS
Chapter 4 - HELLFIRE AND DAMNATION
Chapter 5 - SECRETS COME TO LIGHT
Chapter 6 - NEEdS, DESiRES, AND OTHER MOTIVES
Chapter 7 - RETURN of THE DARk MAN
AFTERMATH
Swords of Haven
The Adventures of Hawk & Fisher
In the dark city of Haven, where everything’s for sale, city
Guard captains Hawk & Fisher cannot be bought.
Hawk & Fisher
They’re two tough cops in a city of magic and mayhem.
A husband-and-wife team with fast blades and even faster
mouths, who dare to cleanse Haven’s corrupted soul. Together
they are the perfect crimebusters ... with a touch of magic.
Hawk & Fisher
The war against crime is forever.
“I think what charmed me about it is the absolutely unabashed manner in which Green has copied the style of almost any current cop/detective/sleuth TV show—the situations and dialogue are straight off your current screen.... Green makes this peculiar combination of classic fantasy and modern tube script work; it’s good fun and ideal light reading.”—Asimov’s Science Fiction
“Green’s very different approach to writing fantasy adventure—bearing a strong resemblance to the private eye novel—works surprisingly well.”—Chronicle
“Simon R. Green’s books are fun books that grab you, suck you in, and don’t let you go. They are always fun, and the Hawk & Fisher books are no exception. Hawk and Fisher are a couple of honest, straight-talking, tough-as-nails Guards who use steel as often as wits to keep themselves out of trouble. They bully their way through situations, often just letting their reputations work their magic. The plots are straightforward with just enough of a twist to keep you guessing until the end. If you’ve read and enjoyed Green’s other books, you don’t want to miss these books. If you haven’t read Green before, Swords of Haven is a good way to get a taste of his style of writing.”—SF Site
“Swift, intriguing, and lively. Green has a marvelous gift of leavening grim situations with wicked wit, and the intrigues are intricate enough to leave even the most practiced mystery solver puzzling. A stormer of a series. Fine stuff.”—Prism UK
Also by Simon R. Green
The Adventures of Hawk & Fisher
Swords of Haven
Guards of Haven
The Deathstalker Saga
Twilight of the Empire
Deathstalker
Deathstalker Rebellion
Deathstalker War
Deathstalker Honor
Deathstalker Destiny
Deathstalker Legacy
Deathstalker Return
Deathstalker Coda
Blue Moon Rising
Beyond the Blue Moon
Blood and Honor
Down Among the Dead Men
Shadows Fall
Ace Books
The Nightside Series
Something from the Nightside
Agents of Light and Darkness
Nightingale’s Lament
Hex and the City
Paths Not Taken
Sharper Than a Serpent’s Tooth
ROC
Published by New American Library, a division of
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Published by Roc, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. These novels were previously published in a Roc mass-market edition and separately in Ace paperback editions by The Berkley Publishing Group.
First Roc Trade Printing, June 2006
Hawk & Fisher copyright © Simon R. Green, 1990
Winner Takes All copyright © Simon R. Green,1991
The God Killer copyright © Simon R. Green, 1991
All rights reserved
eISBN : 978-1-429-58151-6
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Some things can never be forgiven.
1
A HiddEN DARkNESS
Haven is a dark city.
The narrow streets huddled together, the plain stone and timber buildings leaning on each other for support. Out-leaning upper storeys bowed to each other like tired old men, shutting out the light, but even in the shadows there was little relief from the midsummer heat. The glaring sun scorched down on the sprawling city, driving all moisture from the air. The streets were parched and
dusty and thick with buzzing flies. Being a seaport, Haven usually got all the rain it wanted, and then some, but not in midsummer. The long days wore on, and the baking heat made them a misery of sweat and thirst and endless fatigue. The days were too hot to work and the nights too hot to sleep. Tempers grew short and frayed, but it was too hot to brawl. Birds hung on the sky like drifting shadows, but there was never a trace of a cloud or a breeze. Haven at midsummer was a breeding ground for trouble. The heat stirred men’s minds and brought forth hidden evils. Everyone watched the skies and prayed for rain, and still the long dry summer dragged on.
Hawk and Fisher, Captains in the city Guard, strolled unhurriedly down Chandler Lane, deep in the rotten heart of the Northside. It was too hot to hurry. The grimy, overshadowed lane was a little cooler than most, which meant the heat was only mildly unbearable. Flies hovered over piles of garbage and swarmed around the open sewers. The squat and ugly buildings were black with soot from the nearby tannery, and the muggy air smelt strongly of smoke and tannin.
Hawk was tall, dark, and no longer handsome. He wore a black silk patch over his right eye, and a series of old scars ran down the right side of his face, showing pale against the tanned skin. He wore a simple cotton shirt and trousers, but didn’t bother with the black Guardsman’s cloak required by regulations. It,was too hot for a cloak, and anyway, he didn’t need one to tell people he was a Guard. Everyone in Haven had heard of Captain Hawk.
He didn’t look like much. He was lean and wiry rather than muscular, and he was beginning to build a stomach. He wore his dark hair at shoulder length, swept back from his forehead and tied with a silver clasp. He had only just turned thirty, but already there were a few streaks of grey in his hair. At first glance he looked like just another bravo, not as young as he once was, perhaps a little past his prime. But few people stopped at the first glance; there was something about Hawk, something in his scarred face and single cold eye that gave even the drunkest hardcase pause. On his right hip Hawk carried a short-handled axe instead of a sword. He was very good with an axe.
Captain Fisher walked at Hawk’s side, echoing his pace and stance with the naturalness of long companionship. Isobel Fisher was tall, easily six feet in height, and her long blond hair fell to her waist in a single thick plait. She was in her mid to late twenties, and handsome rather than beautiful. There was a rawboned harshness to her face that contrasted strongly with her deep blue eyes and generous mouth. Like Hawk, she wore a cotton shirt and trousers, and no cloak. The shirt was half-unbuttoned to show a generous amount of bosom, and her shirt sleeves were rolled up, revealing arms corded with muscle and lined with old scars. She wore a sword on her hip, and her hand rested comfortably on the pommel.
Hawk and Fisher; partners, husband and wife, guardians of the city law. Known, respected, and mostly feared throughout Haven, even in the lower Northside, where the very rats went round in pairs for safety. Hawk and Fisher were the best, and everyone knew it. They were honest and hard-working, a rare combination in Haven, but more important still, they were dangerous.
Hawk looked about him and scowled slightly. Chandler Lane was deserted, with not a soul in sight, and that was ... unusual. The afternoon was fast turning into evening, but even so there should have been people out selling and buying and making a deal. On the lower Northside everything was for sale, if you knew where to look. But all around, the doors and shutters were firmly closed despite the stifling heat, and the shadows lay still and undisturbed. It was like looking at a street under siege. Hawk smiled sourly. If his information was correct, that might just be the case.
“There’s going to be a full moon tonight,” said Fisher quietly.
Hawk nodded. “That’ll bring out the crazies. Though how anyone has the energy even to plan a crime in this heat is beyond me.”
“You do realise this is probably nothing more than a wild goose chase, don’t you?”
“Not again, Isobel, please. The word is he’s hiding right here, at the end of this street. We have to check it out.”
“Three months,” said Fisher angrily. “Three months we’ve been working on that child prostitution racket. And just when we’re starting to get somewhere, what happens? The word comes down from Above, and we get pulled off the case to go looking for a vampire!”
“Yeah,” said Hawk. “And all because we raided the Nag’s Head. Still, I’d do it again, if I had to.”
Fisher nodded grimly.
The Nag’s Head was a hole-in-the-wall tavern on Salt Lane, just on the boundary of the Eastside slums. The upper floor was a brothel, and the word was that they were interested in acquiring children. Cash in hand, no questions asked. Child prostitution had been illegal in Haven for almost seven years, but there were still those with a vested interest in keeping the market open. Like many other places, the Nag’s Head kept itself in business by greasing the right palms, but one man had made the mistake of trying to buy off Hawk and Fisher. So they had paid the place a visit.
The bravo at the door tried to bar their way. He was either new in town, or not particularly bright. Hawk gave him a straight-finger jab under the sternum. The bravo’s face went very pale and he bent slowly forward, almost as though bowing to Hawk. Fisher waited till he was bent right over, and then rabbit-punched him. The bravo went down without a murmur. Hawk and Fisher stepped cautiously over him, kicked in the door, and burst into the Nag’s Head with cold steel in their hands.
The staff and patrons took one look at them and a sudden silence fell over the crowded room. Smoke curled on the stuffy air, and the watching eyes were bright with fear and suppressed anger. Hawk and Fisher headed for the stairs at the back of the dimly lit room, and a pathway opened up before them as people got hurriedly out of their , way. Three bravos crowded together at the foot of the stairs with drawn swords. They were big, muscular men with cold, calculating eyes who knew how to use their swords. Hawk cut down two of them with his axe while Fisher stabbed the third cleanly through the heart. They stepped quickly over the bodies and pounded up the stairs. The upper floor was ominously quiet. Hawk and Fisher charged along the narrow landing, kicking open doors as they went, but most of the occupants were long gone, having disappeared down the fire escape at the first sound of trouble.
One of the prostitutes hadn’t been able to get away. Hawk found her in the last room but one. She was dressed in torn silks too large for her, and wore gaudy colors on her face. She was chained to the wall by the throat, and her back ran red from the wounds of a recent whipping. She sat slumped against the wall, her face pressed against the rough wood, crying softly, hopelessly. She was almost twelve years old.
Fisher joined Hawk in the doorway, and swore angrily as she took in the scene. The chain was too heavy to break, so Hawk levered the bolt out of the wall with his axe. Fisher tried to comfort the child, but she was too frightened to say much. She’d been abducted in the street two years ago, and been brought to this room. Her abductors put the chain around her neck and locked it, and she’d never been out of the room since. Both Hawk and Fisher told her she was free now, but she didn’t believe it. There’s a man who comes to visit me, she said quietly. He was here today. He’ll never let me go. You can’t protect me from him. No one can. He’s important.
She didn’t know his name. No one ever told her their name.
Hawk and Fisher never did find out who he was, but he must have had influence. Only two days later, the child was stabbed to death in the street. Her attacker was never found. Hawk and Fisher were officially taken off the case and sent to join the other Guards searching for the .supposed vampire that was terrorising the Northside. They raised hell with their superiors, and even talked about quitting the Guard, but none of it did any good. The word had come down from somewhere high Above, and there was no arguing with it. Hawk and Fisher had shrugged and cursed and finally given up. There would be other times.
Besides, it seemed there really was a vampire. Men, women, and children had been attacked at night,
and occasionally bodies were found with no blood left in them. There were dozens of sightings and as many suspects, but none of them led anywhere. And then a lamplighter had come to see Hawk, and there was no denying the horror in his voice as he told Hawk and Fisher of the dark figure he’d seen crawling up the outside of the house in Chandler Lane....
“All the Guards in Haven, and that man had to choose us to tell his story to,” grumbled Fisher. “Why us?”
“Because we’re the best,” said Hawk. “So obviously we’re not afraid to tackle anything. Even a vampire.”
Fisher sniffed. “We should have settled for second best.”
“Not in my nature,” said Hawk easily. “Or yours.”
They chuckled quietly together. The low, cheerful sound seemed out of place in the silence. For the first time Hawk realised just how quiet the empty street was. It was like walking through the empty shell of some village abandoned by its people but not yet overgrown by the Forest. The only sound was his and Fisher’s footsteps, echoing dully back from the thick stone walls to either side of them. Despite the heat, Hawk felt a sudden chill run down his back, and the sweat on his brow was suddenly cold. Hawk shook his head angrily. This was no time to be letting his nerves get the better of him.
Hawk and Fisher finally came to a halt before a decrepit two-storey building almost at the end of the lane. Paint was peeling from the closed front door, and the stonework was pitted and crumbling. The two narrow windows were hidden behind closed wooden shutters. Hawk looked the place over and frowned thoughtfully. There was something disquieting about the house, something he couldn’t quite put a name to. It was like a sound so quiet you almost missed it, or a scent so faint you could barely smell it.... Hawk scowled, and let his hand fall to the axe at his side.