"Simon R. Green - Haven 06 - Bones of Haven" - читать интересную книгу автора (Green Simon R)

but only after the Guard had protected the negotiators from treacherous assault by mercenaries and
terrorists. There were a great many people in both countries who had vested interests in seeing the
Peace Talks fail, and they'd shown no hesitation in turning Haven into their own private battleground.
Hawk and Fisher had managed to smash the worst conspiracy and preserve the Talks, but it had been a
very close thing, and everyone knew it. Everyone except the two Parliaments apparently. They'd set
their minds on Haven, and weren't going to be talked out of it. Probably because they simply couldn't
believe what their Advisors were telling them about the city.

Upon hearing of the singular honor being bestowed on their fair city, Haven's city Councilors
practically had a collective coronary, and then began issuing orders in a white-hot panic. No one had
ever seen them do so much so quickly. One of the first things they did was to give the Guard strict
instructions to get all the villains off the streets as quickly as possible, and throw the lot of them in
gaol, for any or no reason. They'd worry about trials and sentences later, if at all. For the moment, all
that mattered was rounding up as many villains as possible and keeping them safely out of the way
until the Kings had left Haven. The prison Governor came closer to apoplexy than a coronary, though
it was a near thing, and demanded hysterically where he was supposed to put all these extra bodies in
his already overcrowded prison. That, he was curtly informed, was his problem. So the Guards had
gone out into the streets all over the city, backed up by as many men-at-arms and militia as the Council
could put together, and started picking up villains and hauling them away. In some cases where their
lawyers objected strongly, the Guards took them in as well. Word soon got around, and those
miscreants who managed to avoid the sweeps decided it would be wisest to keep their heads down for
a while, and quietly disappeared. The crime rate plummeted, overnight.

Which is not to say the city streets suddenly became peaceful and law-abiding. This was Haven, after
all. But the usual petty crimes and everyday violence could be more or less controlled by the Guard
and kept well away from the Kings and their retinues, which was all that mattered as far as the Council
was concerned. No one wanted to think what the city would be like after the Kings had left and most
of the villains had to be released from prison due to lack of evidence. To be honest, few people in
Haven were thinking that far ahead. In the meantime, Hawk and Fisher patrolled their usual beat in the
Northside, and were pleasantly surprised at the change. There were stretches when no one tried to kill
anyone else for hours on end.

"What do you think about this Peace Treaty?" said Hawk idly. "Do you think it's going to work?"

Fisher shrugged. "Maybe. As I understand it, the two sides have hammered out a deal that both of them
hate but both of them can live with, and that's the best anyone can hope for. Now that they've agreed
on a definitive boundary line for the first time in centuries, it should put an end to the recent border
clashes at least. Too many good men were dying out there in the borderlands, defending a shaky line
on a faded old map to satisfy some politician's pride."

Hawk nodded. "I just wish they'd chosen somewhere else for their signing ceremony. Just by being
here, the Kings are a magnet for trouble. Every fanatic, assassin, and terrorist for miles around will see
this as their big chance, and head straight for Haven with blood in their eyes and steel in their hands."

"Come on," said Fisher. "You've got to admit, the Kings' security is pretty impressive. They've got four
heavy-duty sorcerers with them, a private army of men-at-arms, and a massive deputation of honor
guards from the Brotherhood of Steel. I could conquer a minor country with a security force that size."

Hawk sniffed, unimpressed. "No security is ever perfect; you know that. All it needs is one fanatic
with a knife and a martyr's complex in the right place at the right time, and we could have two dead