"Simon R. Green - Haven 05 - Guard Against Dishonor" - читать интересную книгу автора (Green Simon R)

Haven - 05 - Guard Against Dishonor
Simon R. Green

Chapter One
Chacal


There 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