The Hekamon Page 14

  The men had startled him with their sudden appearance, but now he'd had some time to think, and a little dutch courage, he grew more confident. He could deal with them without difficulty, he'd just needed time to get his story straight.

  If he met with them, he could tell them that yes, a man from the south had stopped by his store. The visitor was traveling north, and wanted to trade a dagger for a pair of sturdy boots and a warm coat, but no, the man didn't sell him any gauntlets. It would help that this was all true. Keep as close to the truth as possible, he reminded himself, and took another swig of ale. And whatever happens, don't mention any gauntlets, not unless they do.

  Yes, that should work. Since he'd have to return home at some point, it would be much better to do so now, rather than wait until it was dark. Finishing the last of his drink, he stood and gave a discrete wave.

  "Duncan, good day to you, a pleasure as always."

  "Tansley," The barman replied, by way of goodbye.

  With that, Tansley left the tavern.

  Once outside, he looked up and down Market Street and, seeing nothing suspicious, he started up the rising street, and back towards home.

  39

  Advancing up the bank, he could see five adits to the mine. Each about twelve feet wide and eight feet high, with two wooden posts each side holding up a crossbeam. Decarius was back on one of the worn paths now, and followed it to the same entrance the two men had used a few minutes earlier.

  He knew that by taking him out of sight quickly, the mines made for a potentially ideal escape route, but what of their layout? Would they be busy with miners? Was there enough light inside without a torch or a lamp? Could there be a maze of tunnels to get lost in?

  There was an equal chance that they were the worst kind of escape route.

  He entered anyway, taking advantage of the concealment the tunnel provided but paused to consider his options. Going up to the workshop by the same way he'd descended would be easier. The problem being that it would require him to reveal his face, since he couldn't move around masked. Or could he?

  He'd noticed some of the workmen shielded themselves from the dust and fumes. A mask may not look quite so out of place. The rest of his clothes were not in keeping with the workmen, though, and the combination might look suspicious. Since he was in the mine he would try to make this way work, and if he encountered problems, he could always come back and try a different route.

  Walking up a slight incline, Decarius reached the main coal seam itself, or at least, what was left of it. The cavernous void was all that remained of this part of the seam. By the light of the five adits, he could see that whole space was filled with columns of wooden posts, spread amid large untouched pillars of coal. The miners had no doubt wanted to make sure the roof didn't cave in on them, so had left some of the coal in place. The occupants of the buildings above were no doubt pleased they had.

  The seam extended for hundreds of yards ahead of him, and from what he could tell, it was just as wide. What little light there was, quickly faded out to blackness, and Decarius found himself using the sounds and echos of some distant mine activity to gauge the size of the space he was in.

  He ventured further inside and found it to be like a journey into a dark forest. There was a stillness and sense of something ancient and as old as time. The wooden posts retained an eerie resemblance to the trees they were hewn from, while there were ropes everywhere, wrapped around and hanging down from the beams above like vines. With each step he took, the eons old detritus crunched underfoot, the dusty remnants of long dead forest floor where no sunlight reached. The canopy, entwined as it was, by the foundries and forges of Serfacre, some forty feet above him.

  Decarius knew that if he was going to find the right workshop, he would need to plan ahead. It would be easy to become lost and disorientated here. He had only walked a few paces into the mine, yet already darkness was closing in around him.

  He pictured the ground above, and how when he had moved away from the armory, he had gone in the direction of the fort and to the edge of the bank of the old moat. It was from there he had seen the two men emerged directly beneath him, from the very tunnel of the mine he had just entered. With this in mind, Decarius considered the way he would need to go.

  If he were to walk forward fifty yards from this point, and in the direction he was facing, that should take him under the armory.

  After thirty paces, some shapes appeared in the gloom ahead of him. A large, mostly untouched wall of coal, with some steps nearby, that lead up through the mass of ropes and timber that supported the roof. He walked the remaining twenty yards and found himself in a dimly lit and open stair well.

  This had to be it.

  Looking up, he could see almost no discernible features, just blackness. Some light would be useful, and he contemplated looking around for some discarded miners lamps, before thinking better of it and starting up the stairs. They seemed study enough, built as they were into the solidly constructed wooden structure that held up the roof. And despite the darkness, he moved quickly, with a handrail providing guidance.

  After four flights he was now mostly feeling his way along. The stairs ended at a wooden gantry, and after searching around, he felt a ladder. Climbing the rungs, Decarius could now see the faint outline of a door in the ceiling above him.

  Reaching up with one hand, while keeping a firm grip of the ladder with the other, he tried pushing on the door and it start to lift. A little more effort and it was open enough for him to see into the room it gave way to. He could see it was a coal bunker. Coal dust covered the floor and a pile of coal was over to one side.

  On the wall in front of him there was a subtle shadow. There must be a small window behind him, obscured from view by the trapdoor above him. It must be the dust covered window he had seen at the back of the workshop. If it was, then he could place where in the building he was, and more importantly, it meant he was in the right building.

  He waited and listened. He could hear a murmur of voices. Were they were coming from inside the workshop or from outside? It was hard to be certain, since they were being drowned out by the other sounds of Serfacre.

  Hammering, drilling, metal bashing and grinding, the rattle of carts and clanking of mechanisms whose purpose he could only guess at. There came occasional shouts of men too, hollering to make themselves heard over the noise. There was certainly plenty of activity outside but this workshop seemed quiet. He would have to investigate further to be sure.

  Looking to his right, he could see the coal bunker door. It was closed. The daylight streaming under it suggested that it lead into the shop front with its south facing window.

  This must be the right place.

  Certain of his location, and that he could get into this room without being noticed, Decarius pushed the door open and started to climb out. As he did so, there was a thud.

  The noise startled him, and he stepped back down a rung, before remaining completely still, trying to understand what had caused it. The vibration of the trapdoor that accompanied the sound, suggested he had caused it. Moving up again and twisting his head, he could see that he'd struck a chain that hung down from the ceiling. The chain now swung to and fro portentously, like a hangman's noose swinging in a breeze.

  He needed to make a decision, and quickly. He could either go back down into the mine, or climb out and press on with his search. He couldn't afford to be caught half-in and half-out of this door.

  He made his decision, and started back up the ladder. Squeezed out through the partly open trapdoor, taking care not to make any more noise and closed the door gently, before halting the swinging chain above it.

  Decarius moved silently but with increasing urgency, he could hear something and it alarmed him.

  There came the sound footsteps and creaking floorboards coming just outside the door. From his crouching position in the center of the room, he could see the light under the door dim a little. He must have been heard and now so
meone was approaching.

  He looked for the hinges to see which way the door would swing and in two swift, silent strides maneuvered himself into the shielded corner. Even as he was doing so, the handle started to turn and he was barely in place before the door began to open. The door opened fully and remained like that for several seconds.

  From where he stood, Decarius could see shadow cast on the far side of the bunker was that of a person standing in the doorway. The figure stepped forward and ceased to be just a shadow.

  It was the young apprentice.

  From the boy's clothes and hair, Decarius was certain it was the one he was looking for. The one he'd seen earlier, the one who would have the answers he sought.

  The apprentice walked further into the coal bunker and towards the trapdoor, bent down and began to open it. The boy hadn't been followed in, nor had he spoken and there was no other shadow on the wall. Was the young man alone?

  Stepping out from behind the door, Decarius glanced quickly through the doorway and into the next room. It was exactly as he'd expected, the large south facing window, the workbench, the hearth, all just as he had seen from the street outside. It was the final confirmation he was looking for, and since the room was empty, the way was now clear.

  He turned his attention to the apprentice, who had sensed movement behind him and was closing the trapdoor. The boy was beginning to turn, but before he could, Decarius pounced.

  He Lunged forwards, and was on the boy in an instant. Grabbing him before he could react and putting him in a headlock, with one hand over his mouth and the other around his neck. Certain not to make the same mistake he had with old man. This one wouldn't get the chance to cry for help.

  Once he had him, he held him, gauging his strength, or lack of it, until confident he was firmly in his grasp.

  The infiltration of the armory had gone smoothly.

  Yet Decarius knew he had not been as thorough as he might have been. The trapdoor had dropped a few inches, landing with a thump. It was hardly noticeable among the noises of the workshops nearby. If anything it fitted right in, silence was more likely to draw attention than the thud of the door, but he couldn't be too careful.

  Keeping his captive held firmly, he backed out of the room, so as to get a view of the whole of the shop front. Making sure that it was indeed empty of customers. He didn't hang around. The large window and open front door gave a good view inside for anyone who might look in, and Decarius wanted the interrogation of the boy to go unseen. Whether it was from people passing on the street outside, or any customers who might walk in at this inopportune moment.

  With the boy firmly in his grip, he moved back into the coal bunker and used an outstretched leg to swing the door closed behind him. He was careful not to close it completely though, he could use some of the light, he wanted to see what he was doing.

  "Make a sound or any sudden movement and I'll kill you, understand?" He told his young captive.

  The boy nodded that he understood, or as best he could, considering the choke hold he was in.

  "A merchant came here earlier, didn't he," he hissed in the boy's ear, who nodded in response. Decarius could feel him shaking and twitching. "He left something here, something very valuable. Am I right?"

  Another nod.

  "Now you're going to tell me where I can find it," he whispered, "and you're going to do so quietly, or it's the last thing you'll do." He moved his hand a little way from the boy's mouth, ready to clamp it back on should he do anything but whisper his reply.

  "Captain Tregarron came in and took it. He took it with him to the fort," the boy said quietly.

  His mind raced at this revelation. It couldn't be true. "Why would…? How…? You're lying," he hissed through gritted teeth and tightened the grip around the boy's throat.

  Decarius tried to make sense of the answer he had been given. There was only one explanation, the boy was trying to get rid of him, he was trying to send him in the direction of Tregarron. Did he think him crazy? Did he expect him to go knocking on the main gate of Demedelei Fort?

  "You're going to start telling the truth, or I'm going to kill you," he said, strangling the boy.

  Yet he felt a growing dread that the boy might be telling the truth. Tregarron would covet the Plautius Gauntlets every bit as much he did. If anything, even more so. Tregarron knew them by a different name and would have thought them well beyond his reach. Should that Demedelite ever get a chance to seize them for himself, he most certainly would.

  Suddenly Decarius saw the flaw in his plans, and the rage it induced, caused his fingers to tighten around the boy's throat. He had assumed the merchant on the Regis Highway, would neither guess that it was the Eagle Standard of Coralai, or have a chance to sell it in the few hours that it was in his possession. Since nobody travels the roads at night, no prospective buyers would stop by.

  His mission was a failure.

  That he could blame it on Hayden, meant it stopped short of being a disaster, but he took the loss personally. Only a few people would know he was to blame, but they were the people who mattered.

  The boy in his grip was struggling now, shaking move violently and trying to prize his fingers off his throat. Decarius would do to him what he had done to the armorer, it would be a warning to Jephson and Tregarron of what they could expect. Their acquisition of the gauntlets wouldn't be the end of the matter but just the beginning.

  The boy was flailing his arms now, and using what little strength he had left in a futile attempt to free himself. Decarius gripped even more tightly. He would show them what happened when the Eagle Standard was disrespected, or when an enemy presumed to take possession of it.

  Suddenly, Decarius saw a light fill the room, and on the far wall, a shadow.

  40

  Tregarron arrived back at the fort, walked through the barbican and into the gatehouse beyond. And, without stopping or breaking stride, he spoke to the guard on duty there.

  "Any visitors while I was gone?"

  "No, sir," Teague replied.

  He had expected as much, the armorer would have entered the fort through the east gate via the Old Moat Road. He would make his way down and meet him there, but not yet. Not until he'd met with the one person who would be even more interested in the silver necklace than he was.

  Moving across the courtyard, up the stone steps and into the keep. Tregarron crossed the great hall to Lord Jephson's chancery. As usual, the door was open but on this occasion, the office was empty.

  Hearing footsteps on the spiral staircase of the west tower, he turned, half expecting to see Lord Jephson but instead saw a young woman. Her slender figure moving gracefully down the spiral steps, through the stone archway and into the high vaulted hall at the heart of the keep.

  "Brigantia, have you seen your father?"

  "He was here earlier but that was over and hour ago," she replied, "have you tried the dining hall or kitchens?"

  "I haven't," but conceded that Bree was likely to be correct about her father's location. Jephson enjoyed his long lunches and it was that time.

  "I'm going that way, do you want me to tell him that you would like to see him?"

  "No, it can wait, but thank you. I wouldn't want to disturb him." Or put him off his food. He could guess what the man's reaction was going to be when he the symbol engraved pendant.

  "You're not having lunch?" Brigantia asked, gliding by in her full length, white dress. It was her normal attire and contrasted strikingly with her long, red hair.

  "No, I have a few things to attend to," he said, following her out of the keep but turning right where she continued on.

  "Very well, Captain. Good day to you."

  "Good day, Bree," he replied, walking toward the east tower that overlooked the Old Moat Road.

  Moving briskly, he walked through a stone archway, along a corridor and into the east tower, before descending the stone staircase to the torch-lit depths below. The stone buildings gave way to rock foundations
as Tregarron moved deeper, before emerging through a wooden door and into a long passageway carved out of the rock.

  These deep tunnels of the fort had been made long before it came into the possession of Jephson family. Their original purpose unknown, if indeed they ever had any purpose.

  Jephson said they were just natural formations in the rock. It was possible, but Tregarron thought unlikely. The size of the tunnels and the way they provided ready access to different parts of the motte was too convenient to be accidental. How ever it was they had come into being, they were now used as a prison and had been for many years. Much useful information had been extracted here during the bewailing wars.

  Another doorway, another flight of stone steps and Tregarron moved into a corridor that no longer needed torch light. An iron grille at the end of the tunnel allowed light and fresh air in. He was close but not there yet. Descending further flight of steps, he was now walking through the deepest part of the network of passageways, and halfway along the corridor, he found the room he was looking for. The guard room.

  The room was a almost cave-like in appearance and large enough to seat a dozen men, with a table and benches running either side. Torches on the wall provided some much welcome light and heat in the otherwise cold and dark room. As he walked in, Tregarron saw that the two guardsmen on duty were casually picking over what was left of their lunch. He startled them with his sudden entrance.

  "Where is he?" he demanded.

  "Who?" Holcroft asked warily.

  "Croneygee."

  "We haven't seen him," the man said, looking to his fellow guardsman, Pearson, for confirmation. "Should we have been expecting him?"

  Taking a large key from a hook on the wall, Tregarron turned and walked out, before continuing down the passage to the large oak door at the end. Sliding the bolts and unlocking the east gate, he opened it and looked out onto the dry moat below. With the two guards following him, he stepped outside and started surveying as much of the road that was visible from this location.