The Hekamon Read online

"If we go, then we all go," Tolle said emphatically.

  "Five of us together might not go unnoticed." Palfrey pointed out.

  "If we are seen by the guards, we'll say we are looking for a Fennrean who is lost," Tolle said, unwilling to be dissuaded.

  "And they will ask what the Fennrean was doing there," Palfrey replied.

  "Palfrey's got a point, they will suspect herb trading. We might bring trouble to her, rather than help her," he said.

  Kormak was still in two minds, but erring on the side of waiting for his sister to return by herself. Even so, Tolle was the leader of the Egret Patrol and would have to make the decision. Tolle started pacing back and forth, while looking across the bridge and at the road beyond, before making his mind up.

  "We'll wait here and trust Alyssa to be sensible in how she's searching. Hopefully she'll keep well out of trouble and come back before long. If she's not back by sundown, we'll go looking for her using the cover of darkness."

  The rest of the patrol accepted this decision and began making plans for how they would wait.

  "Can I take the crow's nest?" Kormak asked, "I haven't slept since yesterday and find it easier to rest there."

  "Yes, you and Palfrey go to the crow's nest, the twins and I will go to the den," Tolle said, as the group split into two.

  Kormak and Palfrey moved off the path and toward a large ash tree that stood sentinel at the fork in the road where the Fennelbek Way and Ochre Way met. Behind the tree, and nailed to its bark, was a ladder.

  Kormak could never decide whether the ladder had been skillfully camouflaged to blend with the tree, or had just become rotten and rickety over the years, like everything else in Fennelbek.

  Palfrey climbed the ladder, and Kormak followed him up. He knew that one day a rung would break, but not today it seemed. Not on the way up anyway, as he and Palfrey reached the top.

  The crow's nest was a small ramshackle tree-house fifty feet off the ground. It was constructed in a natural confluence of some large branches and made use of some lashed together logs and timbers to create a hide. The tree it resided in was one of the few still living. The river bank rose higher here and was less prone to crumbling away than elsewhere.

  The nest gave a good view of the road junction below and the bridge. It also gave a clear sight along all three roads as they converged, with the gaps in the sides of the structure making for useful spy holes to observe passing travelers. From this vantage point, Kormak could see the other three ferguths climbing into the den.

  The fox's den was a hollow in the bank of the river, a dozen yards east of the bridge just off the Ochre Way. It had more likely started out as an abandoned badgers set, in the Fennelbek's pre-wetland days, before being enlarged and strengthened with wooden posts and beams. It made for an effective ambush point and could house ten or more for a short time.

  It wasn't that big though. Kormak wouldn't want to share the space with more than two or three people for very long. The walls had been covered in clay to waterproof it, but it still got damp in there. It sat above the water level, but only just. It was accessible from a sod covered hatchway, which he could see Tolle closing behind him, as he and the twins disappeared below ground.

  The trio inside might be out of view, but Kormak knew that they could see out perfectly well. The river-facing side of the den was open and gave a clear view of the bridge and far river bank. The occupants inside were well hidden by the reeds and bracken that grew in the shallows and margins of the river.

  Seeing everyone was in position, Kormak started to make himself comfortable. There were some old and worn blankets kept in a corner, they were for night watches but he made use of them now. Laying on, rather than under them, cushioning himself from the uncomfortable timber floor.

  "Wake me if you see anything," he said to Palfrey, curling up himself up into a ball, both for warmth and out of necessity, since the tree-house measured less than six feet square.

  "Will do," his friend replied, leaning into the corner that gave the clearest view of the bridge.

  Resting his head on his arm Kormak, managed to get comfortable enough to sleep.

  His tiredness crept up on him. The swaying of the tree in the gentle breeze and tranquil sounds of the marshes brought his mind to a sleeping state quickly.

  As he drifted off, Kormak thought he heard the sound of a falling tree, but the image that came to mind was of something else. Not something crashing down, dead and defeated, but rising up. Not falling into the earth but emerging from it. A staff of wood, or something like it, driven out of the ground and skywards, by a hand clad in leather and steel.

  61

  Tregarron and Teague emerged from the forest and onto the highway, several hundred yards down from where the trading posts were located. From there, they continued down to the Burntoak crossroads, before turning left, and then right into Serfacre.

  Tregarron lead the way through the narrow streets toward Croneygee's place. Most of the side streets were just compacted earth and coal dust, held together with a few cobblestones. While the main streets were paved with hard wearing flagstones, mined from inside the foothills, or maybe even the mountains themselves.

  Moving through the streets, Tregarron could see the whole area was a hive of activity, and he found himself having to make some evasive maneuvers around the apprentices and workmen heaving sacks of coal and pulling carts. While around him the workshops whirred with noise and industry.

  The foundries and forges here produced a variety of metal equipment. Plowshares, scythes, spades, chains, nails, horseshoes, axes, hammers, a thousand different things it was claimed. Tregarron could well believe it, but he much preferred it when they focused on the only product that really mattered, weapons. The one that protected all of the others.

  He was now heading to the workshop of one of Serfacre's finest weaponsmiths, even if he had now turned his hand towards making armor.

  Striding up to the door in the south east corner of the armory, Tregarron immediately had his suspicions. On dry and calm days like this one, he would normally expect to see the door of the armory wedged open, just like with most of the workshops.

  The owners did so, not only to make them more welcoming to passing customers, but to keep the building cool. Many had hearths and furnaces burning all day long, and in some cases, all night long, too.

  It was common practice for the craftsmen to work in the front of the shop, while keeping stock in the back. Forging new items, while manning the store and selling their wares at the same time. Croneygee's was no exception, and when he'd stopped by the armory earlier, the door had been open but now it was closed.

  He walked up to the door and banged on it but didn't wait for a reply, instead he started walking around the side of the building, while signaling to Teague to remain at the front.

  From what he could see through the window, the workshop was empty, so he began circling the building. There were no other doors and only a small window at the rear, too dirty to see through. He continued around and returned to the front door again.

  "Anything?" Teague asked him.

  He shook his head and banged on the door again, before looking through the window once more. His view into the building was not particularly obscured, apart from some bars that he could easily look past when this close. There was no sign of disturbance and nothing seemed out of place, except for a hammer, resting incongruously against a wall.

  It was not working hammer but a long handled military one and it had not been there when he had spoken with the apprentice earlier. Had it been, he would have tripped over it.

  Tregarron turned and looked at the nearby workshops. The owner of the neighboring building was working some metal and looked away quickly when their eyes met. That was all he needed. He walked across the side street that separated the two buildings and into Turner's workshop.

  "What have you seen?" He asked the man abruptly.

  "I ain't seen Croneygee if that's who yow'r lookin for, not
since this morning," Turner said.

  The man was long establish in Serfacre and Tregarron knew that his accent was unintelligible to all but his nearest family. Turner only made an effort to be understood when he was talking to customers, but he made a special exception with the captain of the guard. Tregarron had long ago made it clear this would be advisable.

  How did he know he was speaking the truth if he couldn't understand what he was saying? He might be lying, and if so, this would need to be determined at the fort. So Turner put the vowels back into the right places, or at least his approximation to vowels, and took away a few extraneous R's and added some missing H's, sometimes when they weren't needed.

  "I asked what you had seen, not what you hadn't seen."

  "Well, I saw young Galvyn lock up un leave abarra han arf an owar ragoo. He was with another gentleman, a customer I presumed, southern looking, gooin' on his garb."

  "You mean by his clothes? He was with a Coralainian?"

  "Looked to be, but I day pay tay much attention."

  Tregarron let the mangled words go as he ordered his own thoughts, "When was this?"

  Turner paused, and his face took on a look of intense concentration, "About, an half, an hour, agoo, I mean, ago," he said.

  "Did Galvyn go by his own free will?"

  "Seemed tow, yeah."

  "Which way did they go?"

  Turner looked along the street and pointed, "Tow the road and left t'ward Tiv'tay."

  Tregarron was briefly distracted by an apprentice standing just outside the doorway. His gray hood was pulled up and the boy had his back to him. Tregarron could normally recognize everyone, front and back, either by their hair, clothes or even just their stance, but this apprentice was new. Normally he would take the time to speak with him, find out who he was and where he was from but he had more pressing matters.

  "Has there been any trouble today, with customers I mean, any problems you've heard of?" he asked.

  "Not that I'm aware of, sir, no. Why d'yow ask?"

  Tregarron thought for a moment, due to the lack of men under his command he was going to need some help, more eyes and ears. He would put the word out and see if it brought him any more information.

  "Mr. Croneygee was attacked earlier, hit about the head. Robbery maybe, or an argument with a disgruntled customer."

  "Is he alright, Captain?"

  "No, I've had him taken to the pryor, he's in a bad way. I need people to be vigilant and report anything suspicious."

  "I'll put the word out."

  "I know you will, Turner," Tregarron said, leaving the man's workshop.

  He was preoccupied and remained deep in thought, as he and Teague walked towards the Demedelei Road.

  "Do you think the lad might be in danger, sir?" Teague asked.

  "It's certainly possible," he replied, "It's also possible he is involved himself in some way. What do you know about him Teague?"

  "Can't say I know anything about him, but If he lodges in Tivitay, Phelan might know something."

  "Yes, I was thinking the same thing."

  Phelan was his man in Tivitay. The man had resided there for a while before joining the guard. At Tregarron's behest, the man took lunch at the inn a couple of time a week, out of uniform, keeping in touch with a few people there and making a note of the comings and goings.

  Phelan was one of the guards he'd sent to search the dried out moat and mines. He should still be in that area now. It might be worth seeing how that search was going and if the other men were back. Assuming there were no problems, they should be returning to the fort with the three bound and unconscious men from the trading post.

  Tregarron suspected that, between them, those three men would hold most of the clues as to what was going on. He wanted to be sure they were securely at the fort and to see if any of them had regained consciousness.

  By the time they had reached the Demedelei road he had made his decision.

  "Let's head to the fort and see if everyone is back. I'll speak with Phelan and see what he knows about Galvyn, and then we'll go to Tivitay. I can't be sure we're only dealing with two suspects, when we go, we'll go mob handed."

  Teague nodded his agreement and the pair moved off, in the direction of the fort.

  62

  Mingling amid the tradesmen and the apprentices, Alyssa attempted to make herself look inconspicuous. The streets were bustling here, with boys carrying bags of coal and pushing rickety wooden carts with ingots of iron and copper. But by trying to make herself look busy, she only got in the way. Attracting some shouts of irritation, some quizzical looks and some downright leers.

  She had been confident in her disguise, certain that she looked like any other of the apprentices, but she was far less sure now.

  "Out of the way, missy," a burly, coal dust covered foundry man said, as he hurried by with a handcart.

  Alyssa pulled the hood of her jacket a little tighter around her face and decided to make her way out of the Serfacre by the same route as Tregarron. Still following and watching the man intently, just as she had all the way down the highway. Observing his mannerisms and gait, stalking him as though he were a stag.

  Following the captain and his fellow guard, had brought Alyssa two valuable pieces of information. The name of the apprentice, to whom Tansley would take items to be repaired, and his presumed destination, the village of Tivitay.

  Should she continue to follow the two guards? Was there more to be gleaned from them, or should she head for the village?

  For now she held back, staying out of sight while weighing up her options.

  She paused, as the two men stopped at the end of the street that lead out of Serfacre, and she watched them as they briefly engaged in conversation.

  After a moments deliberation, the guards unexpectedly turned right and walked off, away from Tivitay and in the direction of the fort. She blinked away her surprise at this development.

  Alyssa had overheard what the man called Turner had said to Tregarron, and the act of doing so had required her to take some risks. The guards had entered the man's workshop, which meant she'd needed to stand in the doorway to listen in.

  From what she'd heard, the apprentice, and a man he was with, had left Serfacre in the direction of Tivitay. So why had Tregarron walked the other way?

  Either he thought the pair weren't worth pursuing or he had gone for reinforcements. Alyssa hoped for the former but suspected the latter. Not that she was complaining, this gave her a chance to get to Tivitay first. She would need to move quickly though, the fort was close by, reinforcements could be brought in no time.

  There was one further detail that Alyssa had overheard and knew she needed to be aware of. It seemed that this Galvyn fellow was in the company of man from the south, a Coralainian. Could that man be looking for the iron grippers, too? She had to assume that he was. If so, she knew what she would do to him, feeling the hilt of her dagger through the fabric of the jacket. She would deal with him like she had the other two.

  She started walking again, and as she did, an idea came to her. Might she be able to make use of the Coralainian?

  The captain may not know it yet, but since he was investigating what had happened at the trading post, she was the person he was looking for. Might there be a way for her to use the man who had left the armory as a decoy? Let him take the blame for what happened at Tansley's hut?

  Tregarron had unwittingly helped her by showing her the way to the apprentice. Maybe he could help further, by apprehending another of the Coralainians searching for the grippers. Protecting her brother from their inquisition in the process.

  It might be possible, yet the idea of safe guarding the the marshes didn't excite her as much as it normally would. What excited her was the thought that there was a person close by who had something of hers, something he was going to return.

  Moving through the streets of Serfacre, Alyssa could feel herself growing bolder. Her blood running hot like the rivers of molten ir
on in the foundries around her. Fired by a feeling that was becoming more tangible by the moment. Her necklace was not lost, it never really had been, it was stolen.

  63

  Tregarron reached the Briddlesford Bridge but didn't cross it. Instead he stepped off the Demedelei Road and onto a narrow dirt track that ran down the bankside toward the Old Moat Road. Following the path that snaked through the trees and bushes, he and Teague weaved their way through and towards the mine entrances that emerged from further along the bank.

  Halfway down he realized something and stopped so suddenly, Teague almost collided with him.

  "What is it?" Teague asked.

  He didn't reply. Instead he looked at the grassy expanse of the dry lake bed. He looked at the long grass, and at the bushes and trees strewn everywhere and the excellent concealment they provided. He looked at the fort and at the door of the east gate, just visible above the foliage that grew along the far bank. The place where Croneygee was attacked.

  He started scanning the whole area. And as he did, his eyes were drawn to movement in the trees north of the fort and the two guards he had sent searching there. The men had traveled a good distance along, and he had to whistle loudly to get their attention, before waving them towards him. Next to him, Teague spoke again.

  "Is something wrong, Captain?"

  This time he did reply, "Teague, go to the fort and see if the men have returned from the highway. If they have, take them to Tivitay and do it quickly, I'll see you there," he said.

  Watching as Teague started to run up the bank and onto the bridge before heading toward the main gate of the fort.

  With the guard fetching reinforcements, Tregarron ran down the bank toward the first entrance. He'd sent three men searching this side of the road and he fully expected them to be inside the mine, just as he had instructed. Now he sought to join them, too, and quickly, time was of the essence.

  Whoever had attacked Croneygee, would only have needed to cross the road and enter the mine to be almost immediately out of sight. Having done so they would then need to exit the mine somewhere, and since Croneygee was the person they'd been interested in, then his workshop would be their most likely destination.