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He got to his feet, ignoring his protesting back, and poured himself a large drink. He rather thought he'd earned it. There was a polite knock on the door. He grunted acknowledgement, and Wulf and Roxanne came in. He dropped back into his chair, noting sourly that neither of them looked particularly tired. Roxanne leaned against the fireplace with her arms folded, waiting patiently for new orders. Hardcastle made a mental note that she wasn't to be offered a guest room for the night. They'd probably wake up in the early hours to find the whole damned Hall going up in flames. Wulf was standing to attention before him, waiting to report on the day's activities. Let him wait. Do him good to be reminded of his place. Hardcastle sipped unhurriedly at his wine and nodded to the sorcerer to begin.

Most of the reports were pretty straightforward. All the minor candidates had dropped out. That simplified things; he wouldn't have to have them crushed or killed, after all. General Longarm was still making a nuisance of himself, but he was nothing more than a retired soldier with delusions of grandeur. And with all the mercenaries currently battling on the streets, soldiers weren't particularly popular right now.

Adamant was still a problem. The Brotherhood of Steel had declared in his favor, and were actually out on the streets sticking their noses into things that didn't concern them. Hardcastle scowled. He'd better send word to the right people, and have them called off.

Wulf droned on, showing off as usual on how professional he was, and Hardcastle waited impatiently. He had a question he wanted to ask, but he didn't interrupt. He didn't want the sorcerer to be able to hide behind the excuse of any other business. Wulf eventually ground to a halt, and Hardcastle looked at him steadily.

"You said you had power now, Wulf. Real power. Power enough to break through Adamant's wards and destroy him and his new sorcerer. So why are they still alive?"

Wulf met Hardcastle's gaze unflinchingly. "It will take time before I can use my power safely. For the moment I'm still concentrating on the wards that hold the Abomination safely within me. We were lucky to find him while he was still relatively weak after his awakening. If he was to escape now, he would be very angry with us. He'd destroy us, the whole of Haven, and probably most of the Low Kingdoms. We're talking about one of the Transient Beings, Cameron, not some low-level demon. We can't risk something like that getting loose."

"So what am I supposed to do about Adamant?"

"Nothing, for the moment. Let's wait and see how the polling goes. There's still plenty of time to intervene directly, if it should prove necessary."

Hardcastle glared at him. "That's not good enough, sorcerer." He looked across at Roxanne. "According to my sources, Longarm is planning an attack on Adamant tonight. I want you to use your inside contact to get into Adamant's house. Stay hidden and wait for the attack, and then take advantage of the confusion to make sure Adamant dies. You'd better kill your contact as well. Is that clear?"

"Of course," said Roxanne. "Sounds like fun." She smiled at Hardcastle, and he had to look away. Few people could meet Roxanne's smile without flinching. Even when she was on their side.

The banquet at Adamant's mansion was a noisy affair. There were so many guests that even the main dining hall was barely sufficient to hold them all. The single great table had all but disappeared under huge servings of food and wines, and there wasn't a spare place left for anyone. The huge candelabra and dozens of wall lamps filled the hall with a blaze of light, and the guests filled the air with a roar of chatter. It was a victory celebration, in every way that mattered. No one had any doubts as to the election's outcome. This night would be Reform's night. They could tell. They could feel it on the air and in the streets.

Adamant sat in the seat of honor, of course, with Dannielle on one side and Medley on the other. Dannielle was busy feeding Adamant by hand with something covered in a sticky sauce, half of which seemed to be ending up on his face, to their mutual amusement. Medley was busy sampling several wines to see which was the tastiest. The two warriors, Bearclaw and Kincaid, sat side by side discussing old battles, and using the table cutlery to mark troop positions. The rest of the guests were Adamant's followers and party faithfuls, being rewarded for their services to Adamant's campaign. Servants came and went, bringing yet more courses and side dishes. Adamant's food taster sat quietly to one side, nibbling at a light salad, having given up trying to keep up with everyone else. A dozen or so dogs wandered round the hall, enjoying all the noise and attention, and feeding on bones and scraps thrown to them by indulgent guests.

Hawk and Fisher were there too, but they weren't part of the banquet. They were on duty. They'd get their dinner later in the kitchens. If they were lucky. Reform only went so far, after all. Hawk was fatalistic about such things and, if anything, preferred to have his attention free to watch for threats, but Fisher was simmering with barely repressed bile. Hawk kept a watchful eye on her. She tended to take such things personally. At the moment she was scowling dubiously at a chicken leg she'd snatched from under the nose of a resentful hound. The animal was about to challenge her for it, but one glare from Fisher was enough to change his mind.

"You're not really going to eat that, are you?" said Hawk.

"Damn right I am," said Fisher. "I'm hungry." She gnawed industriously at the leg for a while, and then gestured with it at the banquet table. "Look at them all, stuffing their faces. There's not one of them who's worked half as hard as we have today. I hope they all get wind."

"Don't take it so hard," said Hawk. "I'm sure Adamant would have invited us to table if he could, but it would do his image no good at all, and he knows it. The Cause is great for political reform, but it's got a long way to go before it can start meddling with the social structure."

"I'd like to meddle with his structure," muttered Fisher. "Preferably with a large mallet."

"It's not as if we've been singled out," said Hawk reasonably. "Adamant's got a good twenty to thirty mercenaries and men-at-arms scattered round this house standing guard, and none of them were invited either."

"We're different," said Fisher.

"Maybe," said Hawk. "Hello! Where's Medley going?"

Hawk and Fisher watched interestedly as Medley made his excuses to Adamant, and left the table. He seemed to be in something of a hurry, and by the time he got to the main door he was practically running.

"The fish must be off," said Hawk.

Fisher looked at him fondly. "You have no romance in your soul, Hawk. Now he's no longer needed here, he's probably off to see his mysterious girlfriend. I wonder if we'll get to meet her?"

"I doubt it. Hello! Now Dannielle's leaving as well."

Hawk and Fisher watched again as Dannielle made her excuses to Adamant and left the table.

"Maybe the fish <em>is</em> off," said Fisher.

"I don't know," said Hawk thoughtfully. "She's been up and down all day. Maybe her illness is catching up with her."

"Or she's gone after Medley to try and sneak a look at his girlfriend."

"Either that, or someone's slipped poison in their food;"

They looked at each other.

"No," said Hawk finally. "They haven't eaten anything the others haven't, and anyway, Mortice is keeping a close watch on the banquet."

Fisher shrugged. "No doubt we'll find out what's happening eventually. We usually do."

"That was before we got involved in politics."

"True."

They watched everyone else eating for a while. Hawk's stomach rumbled.

"Something's wrong," said Fisher suddenly.

Hawk looked at her. "How do you mean?"

"We're supposed to get regular security updates from Adamant's people, but no one's been by here in almost half an hour."