The Hekamon Read online

  There was the matter of the other occupants.

  There had been two men searching for Tansley, might there be more? Out in the forest waiting? Expecting their associates to leave and becoming suspicious when they didn't. She also started to wonder how they'd got in. Had Tansley let them in? Did they break in and, if so how?

  Could they know about the tunnel?

  The security of the tunnel was that it was well hidden and secret. Once known about the hut became more vulnerable. Or did it? She and her brother had needed Tansley to let them in, why? Perhaps the tradesman kept it wedged closed with logs, yet she had not done so. She had been too busy tying up the two men.

  Then there was the doors. Were they locked? She hadn't tried them and the building might not be secure. Alyssa realized there was so much she needed to do before she could risk going to sleep here. Sitting up, she slid to the edge of the bed.

  From this position she could see out of the windows and surveyed the road outside. At the very minimum she should check on the likelihood of prospective visitors. She was in a trading post, if customers were to visit and try to enter, they would be able to if the doors were not locked. Alyssa looked to her left and at the Regis Highway, as it rose up towards the fortified gate that protected the town of Demedelei. What she saw caused her to gasp in disbelief.

  Four men were approaching, and not just any men, Demedelite guards. Their dark blue uniforms and wide brimmed iron helmets unmistakable. Three of them were carrying halberds, while the guard with neither helmet nor halberd, was pointing towards the trees behind the hut. As he did, two guards moved off the road, while the lead guard and his companion headed straight for her.

  Alyssa was a keen huntress and a good judge of time and distance, springing traps on unsuspecting deer called for it. But now she felt like a fawn, and with the trap already sprung. The men were forty yards, and twenty seconds away. Alyssa made her decision, and now had nineteen seconds.

  Off the bed, through the door and onto the stairs took two seconds. The clumsy boots clattered and slowed her, but she was down the stairs and through the hall in another three. Across the store room, into the woodshed and to the back door, another four.

  Fumbling with the handle, wasting precious seconds nine, ten, the door open, eleven, she took two steps outside. The woodland ahead was dense, but not so much that she could be lost among the trees in less than ten seconds, the guards rounding the hut would see her.

  Her instinct to get out and run from the approaching danger had to be curtailed, and with huge effort, she did so. Stepping back into the woodshed, Alyssa pushed the door to and turned.

  Leaping across the shed, she was at the hatch in two bounds, the boots thudded on the stone floor. The last noises she could afford make, she told herself. She needed to be quick and quiet now, they would be very close.

  The latch open, she went through the small hatch and crawled into the tunnel. Could the guards know about this way out? If she saw a light ahead of her, the trap really was sprung.

  Her beating heart now seemed even louder than the heavy boots had been. It was joined by another rhythmic thudding. It seemed to surround her and earth fell from the roof of the tunnel. They were walking right above. They were on the hill through which the tunnel ran. They were going to the back door.

  Alyssa was fully in the tunnel now, but with the hatch still open behind her. She placed the side of a boot against the edge of the small door and dragged her outstretched leg back in. It gave some impetus, pulling it shut, but it wasn't enough. She heard the handle of the door rattle, she hadn't closed it, the hinges creaked briefly and there was a draft of cool air. The door was open, but so too was the hatch.

  "Should we go in?" A man's voice said.

  The hatch closed and gave a faint click.

  "Yes," came the muffled reply. The woodshed door creaked again, and was followed by the sound of boots on a stone floor as the men entered the woodshed.

  Alyssa remained completely silent, with only the sound of her breathing and beating heart filling the dark earth around her. She listened for any indication the hatch was about to open and readied herself to scramble away if need be, but the sounds of footsteps on a wooden floor told her that the guards had moved into the store room. No sooner had she begun to relax than she was startled by more noises, banging sounds, but just as quickly guessed what they were. It was the guards who she'd seen going to the front of the hut.

  For the moment Alyssa felt safe and took the chance to composed herself. As she lay there, she questioned her attempts to escape the danger. Had she done the right thing? She had left the back door open in her haste, that was a mistake, but probably made no difference. The guards would have tried the handle and found it to be unlocked anyway. Even trying to get out of the door had been a mistake, it had been pure panic, and Alyssa knew that it was the panic that closes the trap, that pulls the snare tight.

  She cursed her clumsiness, but then again, taking a step back can loosen the binds, enabling an escape. That had been quick thinking. She forgave herself any mistakes she might have made, it could have been worse, at least she was free of the hut. Now it was just a matter of getting clear of the tunnel.

  54

  "Nothing upstairs," Teague said, descending from the first floor.

  "Are you sure?" Tregarron asked, he had been checking over Tansley and establishing the man was alive. Now he stood and moved into the hall to meet with Teague and Holcroft who'd completed their search.

  "Certain. There aren't many places a person could hide up there; a wardrobe, a cupboard or under the bed. Nobody there."

  "In that case, start looking around and see what else you can find."

  While his men started a search of the hut, Tregarron moved back into the store room, over to the two bound men and began to inspect them. He could see that both were alive but the bigger of the two was in a bad way. He could probably do with the help of Pryor Jervay but would have to settle with what the fort had to offer. That man, he didn't recognize. The younger one, he thought he'd seen before but where, he couldn't be sure. He didn't seem that old, eighteen, nineteen, no older than twenty.

  From their appearance, Tregarron could see they were Coralainians. Short black hair, white tunics and caligae boots. One with a pugio dagger in a scabbard on his belt and one without. Both men had black cloaks tucked into their belts. Could that mean they had traveled overnight? It was possible.

  He started searching the men and almost immediately made a discovery that interested him greatly. Inside the older man's tunic was a fur pouch. He had seen their like before and guessed correctly at the contents, a number of small clay pots covered in mesh, each with a distinctive odor.

  "Interesting," Teague said, seeing the pouch.

  "Yes," he replied, before searching the other pockets of the man, where he found a keyring, which he placed in his own pocket.

  "Could this be something?" He heard Holcroft say, from a position behind him and obscured from view. Tregarron got up and walked over to a counter, behind which the guard was crouching and indicating to a hole in the floor, and nearby, the tile that would cover it.

  Teague walked over too, and, seeing the hollow, made a suggestion.

  "Could it be robbery? Maybe they knew Tansley was dealing with Fennreans and targeted him. Broke in, stole his stash and then knocked the merchant out when he disturbed them."

  "Then tied him up, then tied themselves up and knocked each other out," he added dismissively. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him, and he turned to Holcroft, "How did you get in so quickly?"

  "The back door was open when we got there."

  "What, wide open or just unlocked?"

  "It was ajar."

  Tregarron went through the woodshed to the back door. He tried the keys that he had taken from the bound man, and found one fitted and worked the lock. At what point did the Coralainian take possession of the keys?

  He opened the back door, to let in more light and inspected
the woodshed. Logs were scattered around and there were patches of blood on the floor. There was a short length of rope, while scratches and drag marks suggested at least one of the men had been incapacitated here and dragged inside. He continued to search, and near the far wall, between two piles of chopped wood, he saw a glint of metal. He reached for it and found it to be the other pugio dagger. So the bigger of the two men had entered here with his dagger drawn and yet had still come to grief.

  After inspecting the woodshed, Tregarron joined two of his men who had gone outside. Both Teague and Holcroft were standing silently, peering through the forest before them. Pearson joined them outside, too, before moving around the side of the trading post and toward the highway.

  It seemed to Tregarron that all four of them were of the same mind. He stood still and listened for anything unusual. The forest wasn't completely quiet but there were no suspicious sounds either. None that he could detect anyway. So instead he began searching the ground near the back door.

  "Whatever happened inside that trading post, there must be at least one man on the loose," Teague, said scanning the trees.

  "Yes." Tregarron replied, looking at the exposed soil and patches of leaves, as he did, he started seeing signs of disturbance.

  There was a well worn path that lead around the building, but that didn't interest him so much. He suspected that whoever had absconded from the scene, hadn't gone toward the highway but instead had run further into the forest, keeping the hut between themselves and the approaching guards.

  The assailant must have seen them approaching.

  He recalled the movement he had glimpsed through the upstairs windows. There had been somebody here, and they had made their escape. Realizing this, Tregarron began searching in the direction he anticipated the man would have headed.

  Just two paces from the back door, on a patch of bare earth, he found a broken twig. It was embedded in what looked like a fresh footprint. The imprint was of boot, too big to belong to the merchant who lived here, and though the size was similar to his own, the pattern was not. It was different to the standard issue boots worn by his guardsmen. Nor was it a caligae print. He knew those Coralai boots all too well, he'd been a tracker in the war.

  He tried to find the next impression. Might there be a trail for him to follow? Was a tracker needed? He felt his heartbeat quicken at the very idea. The memories were not far below the surface and he could feel them rising. He looked more closely. Did he want to find a trail? Because if he did, his reaction would be instinctive, he could feel it already.

  He searched for the next steps, there must be other footprints here, but if there were, he couldn't see them, they seemed to be lost among the fallen leaves.

  He scoured and sifted through the detritus, walking further from the hut in his search, pacing back and forth, trying to pick up the scent. From what he could tell, there was no trail, at least, not an obvious one. It would be a challenge. It would take a certain kind of skill, the ability to read the mind of a fleeing enemy. It needed a tracker.

  All he had to go on was the direction that the man had started off in and how they might use the terrain to stay out of sight. It wasn't much, but it was something. It was enough.

  Standing, Tregarron turned and threw the keys of the hut to Holcroft.

  "Go back to the High Gate and wait for the men coming up the lane from the priory. When they arrive, bring them here. I want these three incapacitated men taken to the fort. Keep them tied up for now, someone's done that part of the job for us. Teague you're with me."

  "Where are we going, captain?" Teague asked.

  "Hunting."

  Tregarron started through the trees, and after a few dozen paces, came to an embankment. Moving over the camber and into the ditch beyond, he started to quicken his pace, "Keep up," he called back to Teague, he was on to something.

  He could see that this way would make for an ideal escape route.

  He ran alongside the embankment and beside a small stream that flowed with it. He was entering the foothills of the mountains and the forests of the glades. There was no trail to follow, just his instincts. He wasn't only reading the ground, but the mind of the assailant, too.

  55

  Alyssa began to crawl through the tunnel and away from the trading post. Her relief at escaping the guards replaced by frustration.

  Tansley knew the whereabouts of her necklace and she could have got more details from him, but not now. Then there were the two men. They didn't know it yet but the object of their interest was in the possession of her brother, might they still find out?

  She would have preferred to have kept in control of the situation as much as possible, but now the Demedelite guards were in charge, of those three men anyway. At least she'd avoided that fate.

  Reaching the end of the tunnel, she stood up in the space below the trapdoor. She waited there a while, catching her breath and deciding what to do. Should she stay here until nightfall? The thought was an alluring one. She would feel safer returning to the marshes by the cover of night but she dismissed the idea. She wasn't heading back to Ochre Hill, not yet anyway, not without her necklace. It was too important to leave in the hands of others.

  There was another reason she couldn't stay here, the guards at the trading post. They would already know someone was missing, the three men couldn't have tied themselves up, at least, not entirely.

  How thoroughly might the guards search? The hatch to the tunnel was well disguised but not impossible to find.

  Then there was the trapdoor above her. She had entered that way. It was uncovered and it was much easier to see without its blanket of leaves and earth. A search of the area might reveal it, and a search of the area was the kind of thing the guards might very well do.

  There was nothing else for it, she had to move from her vulnerable hiding place.

  Easing the trapdoor open, Alyssa looked around as best she could, before climbing out of the darkness and into the light and fresh air. Once out of the tunnel, and with nobody in sight, she carefully closed the door and brushed some leaves over the exposed wood.

  Moving along the embankment, through which the tunnel ran, she crouched and started to scamper deeper into the forest. Her priority was to remain quiet and to attract no attention. If that was at the expense of speed then so be it, she would adapt this strategy if need be.

  Alyssa hadn't gone far when it seemed a change of plan might be already called for. She could hear voices. They were indistinct and muffled by the trees, but the distance and direction suggested they were from outside the hut. It sounded like the search had begun. Now would be a good time to press on and put some distance between herself and the searching guards.

  Alyssa was following the same route she had with her brother the night before, and confident in her sense of direction, she started to run. She held back from running at full sprint though, the boots she was wearing prohibited it anyway. Instead, she settled into a steady pace that she could maintain for miles if necessary. It was both reassuringly fast, while quiet enough, too.

  The plan had seemed sound, yet once more needed adapting. The sounds coming from behind her indicated her pursuers were not taking things so steadily. She reeled in her rising panic, she knew it was possible to run and hide at the same time, providing it was done correctly. Ducking under branches and not breaking them, avoiding patches of bare earth that would catch foot prints, raising her feet instead of dragging.

  The guards must be at least a hundred paces behind her, if not two hundred, yet she could hear them and almost feel the pounding feet. How many were chasing her? The footsteps seemed loud. Were there numerous men, or just a few running fast and right on her tail? Looking over her shoulder, Alyssa couldn't see anything but that didn't reassure her. The trail she was on followed the curve of the hill and that was the only thing keeping her out of view, she needed to take advantage.

  Now Alyssa did break into a full sprint. Her feet landing heavily, she might be hear
d but had to take that risk now, because as things were, she was close to being seen. Even as she reached full speed, Alyssa realized running would not be enough, it needed more. A decoy, a feint, anything, she needed to be elusive. Could she take a different route?

  She knew from her experiences of tracking boar that their habit of following familiar and easily navigable trails made them so much easier to hunt. This was such a path, running as it did along a contour of level ground, it was an easy way to go, too easy, it was predictable. A smart predator could follow it without effort. She had to be off the beaten track, but which way to turn?

  She continued around the hillside, ahead of her it straightened and entered a clearing. She knew which clearing, rocky and slippery with moss covered stones. She would be easy to see if she didn't get through it quickly. She had to be at least one hundred paces ahead, or she would be easily visible across the wide open glade. Yet the fast, powerful footsteps behind told her they were closer than that. She could not stay on this path, not if she wanted remain unseen.

  She looked down the tree covered hillside, should she simply flee? Kick off the boots and run for the bridge? It was downhill all the way and when the situation called for it she could be fast. This was one of those moments. But the chasing footsteps were those of a fast runner, too. And going downhill would rob her of the cover of the hillside, she would definitely be seen. If she stayed on her feet she might get away, but if she fell they would be onto her and she would be captured.

  The trail straightened now, and the rocky escarpment lay directly ahead, she had just seconds to decide. She couldn't go straight on, nor could she turn left and downhill without being seen.