The Lost: Part I

It was late when Marcus finally found Ian sleeping in the Great Hall. For a few moments the lieutenant considered letting his commander sleep; Blackthorn had been driving himself hard of late. But he knew this news was too important to wait until the morn. He set a hand on Blackthorn's shoulder and gently shook him awake.

Ian's eyes flew open even as his own hand moved up to grasp Marcus'. Blue eyes focused before the half-elf stopped himself from responding to a possible attacker. "News?" He sat up in the chair he had been sprawled in. "Any reply from the Hawke?"

"Well, m'lord..." Marcus struggled for the best way to phrase this, then decided on the simple approach. "He's not there."

"He's what?" Blackthorn now was fully awake...and not very happy.

"Not there. The ship never arrived in port. Timmons thought perhaps a storm....but there have been none on the Channel for the past week."

Ian frowned, then rose to his feet, striding across the room as he buckled his sword harness across his back and gathered up his cloak, all the while issuing orders. "No word of this to Lady Xan yet until we have news. But let Sir James know. Send parties along the shore to check for wreckage. Send men across to France by the Road to do the same there. And tell Timmons to check the smaller seaports. Perhaps they were diverted by a problem aboard ship".

"Very well, milord". Marcus fought his usual losing battle to keep up with the loner stride of the other, finally surrendering at the doorway as he watched Ian walk out. "And where might you be going, Sir?"

Ian's voice floated back as he stepped out of the torchlight and into the shadows by the gates. "I'll be down at the waterfront. At The Hook"

With that, he disappeared altogether from view. Marcus cursed softly to himself. He best send some more men down there, he mused. Hell was about to break loose on The Hook.

*********

Camelot's seaport is set on a gentle curve. On the upper part, closer to the market place and the castle sit the great merchant houses, like O'Donnell's, and their warehouses. The middle part are the main docks, smaller warehouses, and the shops and taverns frequented by captains and crews in port for a few days and nights of carousing.

The lowest part, the part that curves out past the harbor and juts into the heartless sea, is called The Hook. The winds are harsher, the smells fouler and the life harder in this part of Camelot. There are drug dens and brothels and gambling pits at every turn. The people there like to think of themselves as the elite of Camelot's crime world. If anything, they were more like pests who refused to be wiped out despite frequent sweeps by the Guards and Black Watch.

Ian could have told them the more dangerous criminals were back up in the upper harbor, hiding among the honest merchants like Lerrad, taking advantage of those who played by the rules.

But Ian Blackthorn was not coming to The Hook to enlighten its denizens. He was going because if there was one thing he KNEW he could find there, it was information. If you wanted to know anything about anyone or anything, chances were you could find out something in The Hook.

Ian wanted to know something.

It was a VERY long night in The Hook.