“The moment those stones started flying in, she had every window closed, every door blocked, and all the furniture and mattresses pushed against the wall facing the square. We hadn’t even worked out what was happening, and she’d told us what to do before we could blink. Later, the men said she must come from a truly savage neighborhood.”
Gene was walking through the streets with Terry, Onil, and Neups to visit the wounded patrolmen. On the way, Terry told him how Rosa had commanded the siege. The more he heard, the harder any of it was to believe.
“Building the barricade in the back yard, knowing there’d be no attack by fire, all that was her orders. And of course, pulling down the second floor… Ah, you know, don’t you? That we had no choice? We’d broken up every last wooden thing by then, every bed, and still there wasn’t enough…”
Terry took great pains over his explanation, afraid Gene might think badly of Rosa. Gene listened without answering, which seemed to worry him still more. When he described how she had frozen the door with magic, he exaggerated until one might have thought she had frozen all Delphinad. Onil, who could not stand it any longer, interrupted.
“But it melted before long.”
“That was because the weather was hot! There wasn’t anything she could do!”
Looking at Terry’s flushed, excited face, Gene wondered whether the man might like Rosa. If so, it must be because they had fought together through danger of death. Gene himself had not been there. The thought somehow left a bad taste. As he continued to make no reply, Terry began glancing at him and tried to draw the story to a close.
“Anyway, without Miss Rosa, it would have been difficult to hold out as well as we did. I can’t say we’d all have died. But whatever else, she did something extraordinary.”
It was true. Simply involving her in the battle had already caused her so much trouble, yet she had helped them besides. When he first met Rosa and promised to find her sister, he had never imagined matters would turn out like this.
Perhaps Onil disliked Terry’s fussing. Walking a little ahead, he stopped and pointed down an alley on the left.
“It’s over there. Do you see the pottery sign?”
The pottery shop was also the home of Master Temena, an apothecary. He had invented that odd title for himself because he was neither physician nor pharmacist, but in any case he was reputed to be skillful. If it had a drawback, it was that with no other facilities, his patients had to lie behind the earthenware shop.
His wife sold the pots. If customers brought back their purchases complaining of a suspicious smell of herbs, she shouted at them and drove them away.
Gene had heard the reputation, but had never needed to visit. He could treat light wounds himself, and otherwise had never been ill enough to seek a physician. Entering with his men, he was struck by that very suspicious herbal smell. Master Temena suddenly emerged from a dim corner and led Gene to a bed in the back.
One of the two patients, Beyron, lay unconscious with a deep wound through his shoulder. The other, a man named Gregord, had been struck in the face by a blunt weapon. His nose, the bones around it, and even his cheekbones were broken; it was a miracle his skull was sound. Yet he remained conscious, boasting that it was a family honor to receive a visit from the Shadowhawk, and that his face must look like a cracked coconut. Gene could neither laugh nor agree, only twitch his cheeks. At last, when Gregord said, “For calling myself a Brother of the Hawk while looking like this, I ought to be ashamed,” Gene spoke.
“Have you had an offer from somewhere else? I’ll pay double, so refuse it at once.”
Gregord chuckled, then immediately screamed. The stout Master Temena came running, stamping his feet, and glared at Gene, demanding to know what he had said. Bowing his head like a man truly at fault, Gene answered, “I’m sorry. Please take good care of him.”
“Very well. I’ll take the opportunity to make him handsome, so don’t worry.”
“Will Beyron wake?”
“That depends on the sister goddess’s will. Go and light a few candles at her temple.”
Nui was the goddess who presided over death. On his way out of Master Temena’s house, Gene went to her temple and bought no fewer than sixteen candles. Following him, Neups shrugged and muttered, “You never used to come to places like this.”
Without answering, Gene stood a host of candles on the altar, then stepped back.
“I have ended up quarrelling with the goddess over territory. I can’t very well stay away.”
“Over territory?”
“She has taken fourteen of my men. It means I’m asking to make peace now.”
Leaving Nui’s temple, Gene sent his men back and crossed a bridge alone toward Hawk House. The people he met there also looked at him with interest. Some wanted to encourage him, some to learn something, some merely to express goodwill. There were all sorts, but in the end none approached him. Even now that he knew what had happened to the house, their reaction seemed strange. He had become the loser, not the winner. Were the people of Delphinad so full of sympathy?
The whole city was noisy with talk of the duel in four days, but Gene himself had scarcely had time to think about it. The ruined house, funerals, wounded men, reports to his superiors, temporary lodgings, the survivors’ morale, thanking those who had helped, there was no end to his concerns. And because the affair had attracted excessive attention and brought every sort of meddler into it, concentrating simply on winning was far from easy. At this rate, he would let himself be distracted by everything else, then go to the dueling ground as though casually meeting a friend.
That morning he had visited the Hand of Ilmoram’s headquarters. Having failed to protect the lodgings as patrol captain, he had expected at least a reprimand. But instead, they had offered a formal consolation and done nothing in particular to blame him. They even seemed quietly pleased that the affair had raised the organization’s name. They offered to waive two months of his payments to his superiors because repairing the house would cost money. Then they added, “Every member of the organization will come to watch that day. Don’t disappoint us.”
Because of the affair at Hawk House, the Hand of Ilmoram had gained the plausible image of an organization that had faced the Delphinad guards, the regular army, even the governor, on equal terms. If Gene won now, it would become, in name as well as fact, the representative of the back alleys. He knew their intentions perfectly well, but only nodded. He was not fighting for the Hand of Ilmoram. Even without such reasons, he had enough reasons of his own to win.
Neups was put in charge of finding contractors and laborers to repair Hawk House. He had originally come from the builders’ guild. With the second floor broken up for the barricade and the stairs removed, major work was needed. After meeting the craftsmen Neups brought and obtaining an estimate, Gene ordered him to find fresh temporary lodgings, since the repairs would take at least a fortnight. Work would begin the next morning.
Before it started, Gene wanted to see the ruined house once more. There was nothing in particular to find or inspect. He simply thought feeling the atmosphere of the siege might help with the duel. As he walked, the sky darkened and rain began to pour down. Autumn seemed finally to be arriving. People scattered for shelter, but Gene went on unconcerned.
At Hawk Square, the battered house came into view, as miserable as a badger savaged by a lynx. He looked at it with an odd sense of unfamiliarity, almost like a sightseer. Was it because it was no longer a familiar scene? He felt as though he were looking decades into the future. Why think that? Probably because the rain had driven everyone away.
As he approached, he found the entrance roughly boarded over in place of its doors. On the boards, the hawk Reddinus had painted was hopelessly rubbed away. Reddinus had once hoped to become a painter, but without money for lessons he had taken work daubing paint onto the backs of people with terrible scars, and ended up in this line of life.
Gene looked up at the hawk, now no more than the outline of wings. As he raised his head, rain ran into his eyes, and several times he rubbed it away with the back of his hand.
Why had he decided to fight? He had come to Delphinad because of the library. Taking the name Shadowhawk had been a coincidence. The Brothers of the Hawk respected and followed him, but they were not like Jamalik, Hanbun, Gayar, or Ashabel. Gene had no intention of spending his life as a patrol captain. They were all passing connections.
And yet he meant to stake his life.
He certainly felt responsible for his dead and wounded men. They had fought in his place. But if he wanted revenge, there were any number of ways besides a duel. Though he was no Garon Vendigate, he could invade the manor and assassinate the general if he chose. Instead, he had chosen to defend the name Shadowhawk, a name he had thought temporary, even though he might die for it.
Did he truly think he might lose his life?
Gene tried to look into his own heart. General Nikephoros possessed formidable military strength, cunning, rank, and connections. But as one warrior facing another, he was no match for a young Gene. Most people in Delphinad expected Gene to have the advantage. The Brothers of the Hawk too were excited, trusting him to repay their suffering thoroughly rather than worrying about the outcome. The only person openly opposed to the duel was Hanbun. He said that even if the general had arranged all this because he truly wished to kill himself, he would not want Gene as his opponent. He was right.
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