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J:\Newzbin\All Books\Simon R Green - Haven 5 - Guard Against Dishonor.pdbPDB Name: Simon R Green - Haven 5 - GuardCreator ID: REAdPDB Type: TEXtVersion: 0Unique ID Seed: 0Creation Date: 16/08/1973Modification Date: 16/08/1973Last Backup Date: 01/01/1970Modification Number: 0Guard Against Dishonorby Simon R. GreenHaven 5Chapter OneChacalThere are bad cities, there are worse cities; and then there's Haven.By popular acclaim the vilest and most corrupt city in the Low Kingdoms, Haven in midwinter gleams purest white under falls of frozen snow, and its towers shine with frost and ice like pillars of crystal. But only from a distance. The snow on the ground is a dirty grey from the unceasing factory smoke, and grey-faced people trudge wearily through the snow-choked streets.Seen up close, Haven is an ugly city, in more ways than one. Even in the early morning, when the killing cold grips the streets like a clenched fist, there is still no peace for the city. There are still deals to be made, conspiracies to be entered into, and blood to be spilled. Death is a way of life in Haven, and sudden violence the pulse of its narrow streets.And only the city Guard, stretched to breaking point at the best of times, stands between the city and open, bloody chaos.Hawk and Fisher, husband and wife and Captains in the city Guard, strode briskly down the crowded street towards Guard Headquarters, their prisoner scurrying along between them. Winter had finally come to Haven, despite everything the city weather wizards could do, and the bitter air was several degrees below freezing. The street was ankle-deep in snow and slush, and thick icicles hung from every building. Roofs groaned under the weight of a week's accumulated snow, and the iron-grey sky promised more blizzards to come. But still people packed the street from end to end; men, women, and children jostling each other impatiently as they hurried to and from work. No one jostled Hawk and Fisher, of course. It wouldn't have been wise.It was eight o'clock in the morning, but so dark that street lamps still burned at every corner, their amber glare doing little to dispel the gloom. Hawk hated the winter, and not just because the recent flu epidemic had hit the Guard badly and he and Fisher were working a double shift for the third day running. Winter meant hard times in Haven, and hardest of all for the poor and destitute. In every street, in every part of the city, there were bodies lying stiff and cold, caught out in the freezing night because they had nowhere else to go. They ended up in sheltered doorways, or huddled together under tarpaulins in back alleyways, sharing their meager warmth as best they could. Every day the garbage squad made their rounds and hauled the bodies away, but there were always more. Hawk found a young girl once, curled in a tight little ball over a street grating. She couldn't have been more than five or six years old, and her staring eyes had frozen solid in her head. Hawk hated the winter, and sometimes he hated Haven too.Captain Hawk was tall, dark-haired, and no longer handsome. A series of old scars ran down the right side of his face, and a black silk patch covered his right eye. He told lots of stories about how he got the scars, most of them contradictory. His thick furs and official black cloak made him look impressively bulky, but underneath his winter uniform he was lean and wiry rather than muscular, and building a stomach. He wore his shoulder-length hair loose, mostly to keep his ears warm, and kept it out of his vision with a plain leather headband. He'd only just turned thirty, but already there were streaks of grey in his hair. At first glance he seemed like just another bravo, a sword-for-hire already past his prime, but few people ever stopped at a first glance. There was something about Hawk, something cold and unyielding that gave even the most belligerent hardcase pause to think twice. On his right hip, Hawk carried a short-handled axe instead of a sword. He was very good with an axe. He'd had lots of practice.Captain Isobel Fisher walked confidently at his side, echoing her partner's stance and pace with the naturalness of long companionship. She was tall, easily six feet in height, and her long blond hair fell to her waist in a single thick plait, weighted at the tip with a polished steel ball. She wore a battered and almost shapeless fur hat, pulled down low to protect her ears from the bitter cold. There was a rawboned harshness to her face, barely softened by her deep blue eyes and generous mouth. She was handsome rather than pretty, her gaze was cool and direct, and she didn't smile much. Sometime, somewhere in the past, something had scoured all the human weaknesses out of her, and it showed. She wore the same furs and cloak as Hawk, though with rather more grace and style. She wore a sword on her hip, and her skill with it was legendary, in a city not easily impressed by legends.Hawk and Fisher, feared and respected by one and all as the toughest and most honest Guards in Haven. They had a lot of enemies, both inside and outside the Guard.Their prisoner was a short, scrawny, harmless-looking man, wrapped in a long fur coat, topped off with a pair of fluffy earmuffs. His thinning black hair was plastered to his head with rather more grease than necessary, and he had a permanent scowl. Benny the Weasel was not a happy man."You're making a terrible mistake," he repeated for the tenth time, in what he imagined was an ingratiating tone. "Let's be reasonable about this.""Sorry," said Hawk, without looking round. "I'm only reasonable at weekends. And Fisher doesn't believe in being reasonable. Says it's bad for her image.""Right," said Fisher, glaring horribly at a nun who hadn't got out of her way fast enough."This is all a misunderstanding," said Benny doggedly. "I am a legitimate businessman."Hawk snorted derisively. "Benny, you are a small-time villain who makes most of his money running a nasty little protection racket, advising local shopkeepers of all the awful things that might happen to them or their premises if they don't keep up the payments. Only this time you were dumb enough to do it in person, in front of Fisher and me. What's the matter, both your leg-breakers down with the flu?"Benny sniffed. "You can't get good help these days. Look, I am an important figure in the community. I know my rights. I pay my taxes. Technically, you work for me.""Then you should be pleased to be getting such value for your money," said Fisher. "We witnessed a crime and arrested the criminal on the spot. What more do you want?""You won't get away with this!" said Benny desperately. "I have friends. I have influence. You won't be able to make this charge stick. I'll be out on the streets again before you can blink!"Hawk looked at him. "You know, Benny, you're starting to get on my nerves. Now, be a good fellow and shut your face or I'll have Fisher take you into the nearest dark alley and reason with you for a while."Benny glanced at Fisher, and then looked quickly away when he discovered she was smiling at him. He'd heard about Fisher's idea of reasoning with people. If she did it where they lived, it tended to play hell with the furniture. Benny had second thoughts, and they walked the rest of the way in silence.Guard Headquarters loomed up before them, a massive squat stone building with heavy oaken doors and arrow-slit windows. It had the look of a place constantly under siege, which wasn't far off the mark. Riots, hexes, and fire-bombings were a part of everyday life for the Headquarters, but no one had ever closed it down for more than a few hours. It had its own sorcerers, and everyone in the building went armed at all times, from the clerks to the Commanders. It took a lot to disrupt the Headquarters' even running, though last year's rash of possessions had come close.The main doors were always open, but everyone knew that could change in a second if danger threatened. A long-established spell on the doors saw to that, and tough luck if anyone got in the way. A steady stream of people bustled in and out of the building as Hawk and Fisher approached with their prisoner. There was the usual mixture of Constables and the people helping them with their enquiries, along with anxious relatives searching for the recently arrested, and backstreet lawyers touting for business. And of course there were always those who'd come to the Guard for help, all with the same thinly disguised look of fear and desperation. Most people only went to the Guard when they'd tried everything else. The law was harsh and brutal, and weighted heavily in favor of the rich and powerful. There were Guards who were sympathetic, and would do what they could for those in real need, but for the most part the poor had no reason to trust the Guard. Like everything else in Haven, justice was for sale. Everyone had their price.Everyone except Hawk and Fisher.Benny thought fleetingly of making a run for it, then noticed that Fisher's hand was resting casually on the pommel of her sword, and quickly thought better of it. He sighed heavily, and accompanied Hawk and Fisher through the main doors and into the crowded lobby of Guard Headquarters. The wide, low-ceilinged room was packed from wall to wall, and the noise was deafening. Mothers and grandmothers sat in little groups against the walls, chatting and gossiping and keeping a watchful eye on their children as they scampered back and forth, getting in everyone's way. None of them had any real business at Headquarters, but the Guard let them stay. It was the only place in that area where small children could play safely. Beside...
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