Blackstone was a large, heavyset man in his mid forties. Always well-groomed, polite and disarmingly easygoing, he had a politician's smile and a fanatic's heart. Blackstone was a reformer, and he had no time for compromise. He'd done more to clean up the city of Haven in his one year as Councilor than the rest of the Council put together. This made him very popular in the lower city, and earned him the undying enmity of the rich and powerful who made their living out of Haven's dark side. Unfortunately for those with a vested interest in other people's misery, Blackstone was himself quite wealthy, and not in the least averse to putting his money where his mouth was. At the end of his first year in office, the odds on his surviving a second year were being quoted as roughly four thousand to one. When Blackstone heard this he laughed, and bet a thousand in gold on himself.
His wife stood at his side as he talked animatedly with the sorcerer Gaunt about his next crusade, against the child prostitution rackets. Katherine Blackstone was a short, good-looking brunette in her mid twenties, and only slightly less feared than her husband. In her day she'd been one of the finest actresses ever to tread the boards in Haven, and though she'd put all that behind her on marrying Blackstone, she still possessed a mastery of words that left her enemies red-faced and floundering. Katherine had always had a gift for the barbed bon mot and the delicately judged put-down. She was also not averse to a little discreet character assassination when necessary.
Gaunt himself looked to be in his mid thirties, but was reputed to be much older. Tall, broad-shouldered but elegantly slim, he dressed always in sorcerer's black. The dark robes contrasted strongly with his pale, aquiline features. His voice was rich and commanding, and his pale grey eyes missed nothing. He shaved his head, but indulged himself with a pencil-thin moustache. He'd arrived in Haven from no-one-knew-where some four years ago, and immediately made a name for himself by singlehandedly cleaning up the infamous Devil's Hook area.
Devil's Hook was a square mile of slums and alleyways backing onto the main docks, a breeding ground of poverty and despair. Men, women, and children worked appalling hours for meager wages, and prices in the Hook were carefully controlled to keep the people permanently in debt. Those who spoke out against the conditions were openly intimidated and murdered. The city Guard avoided the Hook rather than risk a war with the gangs who ran it. And then the sorcerer Gaunt came to Haven. He walked into the Hook, unarmed, to see for himself what conditions were like. He walked out again some two hours later. Not long after, the Guard were called in to start the long business of carting away the dead bodies. Every member of every gang was dead. None of them had died easily.
The Hook held a celebration that lasted for over a week.
Certain businessmen tried to send new people into the Hook to start the various businesses up again, but Gaunt simply visited each man in turn and pointed out that any attempts to run sweatshops would be taken by him as a personal insult. Conditions within the Hook began to improve almost overnight.
Gaunt poured himself more wine, and savored the bouquet.
"Darling, I don't know how you can drink that stuff," said Katherine Blackstone. "Hillsdown has some excellent orchards, but their grapes aren't worth the treading."
"I have no palate for wines," Gaunt admitted calmly. "But there's always been something about the Northern vintages that appeals to me. They're not particularly subtle, but there's no mistaking their power. If this wine was any stronger, it would leap out of the bottle and mug you. Would you care to try some, William?"
"Perhaps just a little," said Blackstone, grinning. "I had hoped it would get a little cooler once the sun went down, but I'm damned if I can tell the difference. Looks like it's going to be another long, dry summer." He gulped thirstily at the wine the sorcerer poured him, and nodded appreciatively.
Katherine tapped him gently on the arm. "You be careful with that stuff. You know you've no head for wine."
Blackstone nodded ruefully. "A grave drawback in a politician's life. Still, it has its bright side. Because I spend most of the evening with a glass of water in my hand, I'm still there listening when other people are getting flustered and careless."
"That's right," said Katherine sweetly. "Sometimes I'm surprised you don't go around taking notes."
"I have an excellent memory," said Blackstone.
"When it suits you," said Katherine.
"Now, now," said Gaunt quickly. "No quarreling."
"Don't be silly, dear," said Katherine. "We enjoy it."
The three of them chuckled quietly together.
"So, William," said Gaunt. "How's your new bill going? Is the debate finally finished?"
"Looks that way," said Blackstone. "With a bit of luck, the bill should be made law by the end of the month. And not before time. Haven depends on its docks for most of its livelihood, and yet some of the owners have let them fall into a terrible state. Once my bill becomes law, those owners will be compelled to do something about renovating them, instead of just torching the older buildings for the insurance."
"Of course, the Council will help them out with grants for some of the work," said Katherine. "Just to sweeten the pot."
"One of your better ideas, that," said Blackstone.
"I'll be interested to see how it works out," said Gaunt. "Though I have a feeling it won't be that simple."
"Nothing ever is," said Blackstone.
"How's your latest project going, Gaunt?" asked Katherine. "Or aren't we allowed to ask?"
Gaunt shrugged. "It's no secret. I'm afraid I'm still not having much success. Truthspells are difficult things to put together. All the current versions produce nothing but the literal truth. They don't allow for nuances, half-truths and evasions. And then of course there's subjective truth and objective truth;"
"Spare us, darling," protested Katherine, laughing. "You'd think I'd know enough by now not to enquire into a sorcerer's secrets. Magic must be the only thing in the world more complicated than politics."
"You obviously haven't had to spend half an evening listening to an old soldier talking about military tactics," said Blackstone dryly. "And speaking of which, aren't the Hightowers here yet? You did say they'd be coming."
"They'll be here," said Gaunt.
"Good," said Blackstone. "I want a word with Lord Hightower. He's supposed to be backing me on my next bill, but I haven't seen the man in almost a month. It wouldn't surprise me if he'd started getting cold feet."
"I shouldn't think so," said Gaunt. "Roderik's all right, when you get to know him. These old military types can be a bit of a bore when it comes to refighting all their old battles, but their word is their bond. If he's said he'll support you, he will. Count on it."
"It's not his support I need so much as his money," said Blackstone dryly. "Politicians can't live on applause alone, you know. The kind of campaigns I run are expensive. They need a constant flow of gold to keep them going, and even my resources aren't unlimited. Right now, Hightower's gold would come in very handy."
"Mercenary," said Katherine affectionately.
At the other end of the huge parlor, Graham Dorimant and the witch called Visage were helping themselves to the fruit cordial in the silver punch bowl. As a refreshing fruit drink the cordial was something of a letdown, there being too much emphasis on the various powerful wines involved and not nearly enough on the fruit, but Dorimant was well known for drinking anything, provided he was thirsty enough. And the current heat wave had left him feeling very thirsty.