The Hekamon Page 24

  He hadn't been wrong to pursue Tansley. The man was the last person to be seen with Croneygee and a potential witness. Not only that, the merchant was connected somehow, since he'd been attacked, too.

  Yet establishing that connection had detoured him. The man he was looking for, the prime suspect and the perpetrator of the violent assault, had entered the mines. Of this he was certain. He was equally sure the man had exited again.

  Tregarron continued briskly along the path until he reached the first of the adits. He paused, looking back and across the dry moat at the two running guards he had called over. They would be another minute at least. He couldn't wait that long. So he signaled to them again, gesturing that they should follow him into the mine, before going inside himself.

  Tregarron made his way along the tunnel and entered into the excavated seam. In his mind, he was making some calculations, how many men did he have at his disposal and how quickly could they get to Tivitay?

  By his reckoning, half-a-dozen, and ten minutes.

  Chapter 10

  64

  Turning left at the Burntoak crossroads, Alyssa continued down Tivitay Street.

  Before long, the trees that lined the cobblestone road, gave way to the half-timbered buildings of the village, with their black tarred wooden frames, contrasting sharply with the white limewashed walls. A few one and two story, timber-framed houses and shops, along with two more substantial buildings with brick chimneys.

  Awnings brought some color to the otherwise monochrome village. A torn and battered red and white striped fabric, fluttered over the window of a butcher's shop. Where strings of sausages and joints of meat hung from hooks on display. While a larger green and gold awning leaned protectively over the front of a grocer's stall, with its crates of colorful produce.

  Alyssa had been to Tivitay before, her mother had brought her when she was younger. There was nothing stopping Fennreans visiting the village but their lack of currency didn't endear them to the shopkeepers here, who moved them on quickly and not always politely.

  Not that it mattered much, there was very little by way of food and clothes that they couldn't make themselves, or at least, acquire by other means. They avoided the place whenever possible, and from what Alyssa could see, it hadn't changed much since she had last walked through. If anything, it seemed smaller.

  Despite her best efforts, her boots clattered noisily on the cobblestones, sounding her arrival, but the handful of people in the village took no notice.

  She did take notice of them though, and one thing became immediately apparent. If one of the men she was looking for was a Coralainian, then she couldn't see anyone matching that description.

  Instead there were two ladies browsing a grocery stall, an old man leaning against one of three lampposts in the village, and two younger men, boys really, dirty from their labors.

  Were they apprentices? Almost certainly. But could she just ask them if one was called Galvyn, or if they knew someone by that name. Alyssa worried it might be too direct an approach. What if the answer was yes? She hadn't given any thought to how she might extract the information, or better still the necklace, from the boy she was looking for. She decided to look around first, and started on the quieter left side of the street, where only the old man was standing.

  As she neared him, she could see he was the worse for drink, shuffling and mumbling to himself. If the state he was in made him forgetful and shortsighted, then he wouldn't be much use, but on the other hand, he might forget he'd seen her, which would be convenient. She decided to approach him and see if he could be any help.

  "I'm looking for a serfacre apprentice and I'm told he lives here. Do you you know where I might find him?" she asked, softening her accent as best she could and withholding the name of the boy for now. The old man squinted at her.

  "An apprentice? Well, there's Trindle's place and Mrs. Willard's," he slurred, pointing at the two largest buildings on the other side of the street, "and Bill sometimes puts them up at his inn," he added, indicated to a building further along.

  "Thank you."

  "You're welcome, young lady."

  She pulled the hood closer to her face once more. Her disguise was obviously only going to take her so far. From the side and back, Alyssa was sure her appearance would be that of a boy or young man, but up close and in conversation, her face and voice were unmistakably those of a young woman.

  Leaving the drunk, Alyssa began walking the length of the village. Starting on the left, before crossing onto the right where the lodge houses and inn were located. She decided to walk by all of the buildings first, looking inside where possible, to see if she could spot anything.

  When she passed the grocers, the women there ignored her, and it was good that they did. She was going to have to come back again and wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible. While the next building along was the inn, with only one more building beyond that.

  Just as Alyssa reached the door of the inn, it opened and a young man stepped out. She side-stepped what would have been a collision, and as she did so, the two of them looked at each other.

  They were the same height and she guessed the same age, too. He was wearing brown, knee length braccae and a white, coal dust smeared jacket. It was the look of a serfacre apprentice. His auburn hair was the color of burnished bronze and glowed in the last of the afternoon sunlight. While his eyes were emerald green and flecked with gold.

  They held each other's stare, before she broke off as the two of them passed.

  Could he be the one?

  Alyssa took two more steps and then, on hearing a commotion behind her, stopped to look around.

  It seemed the apprentice had collided with a woman at the grocer's, and in doing so, caused her to drop some of the vegetables she had been inspecting.

  "I'm so sorry," the boy said, picking up one beet, before chasing after the other, which was rolling down the street in Alyssa's direction. Angling her foot, she carefully stopped the vegetable, which had been picking up speed, and in doing so, saved the lad the ignominy of chasing after it.

  When the auburn haired boy reached her, he knelt down in front of her, and as he did, he paused, looking at her ankle and the tattoo just visible above the boot.

  Alyssa watched, as the boy's eyes flickered, firstly with curiosity and then recognition.

  "I've seen—" he began to say, and then stopped. Looking up, his eyes widened, and hers narrowed. He's seen the pattern before. He was the one she was looking for.

  Standing up with the beet in hand, the boy turned and handed it to the woman behind him, "I'll be more careful next time."

  "Just make sure you are," the woman replied, with obvious irritation, before moving back to the stall.

  The young man, though, he stayed where he was. Not moving and no longer speaking. With the point of Alyssa's dagger held in the small of his back.

  65

  Hayden entered his room, lifted a knapsack up off the floor and placed it on the bed. He picked up his focale scarf from the bedside table, and from a nearby chair, his cloak. He placed both in the bag and looked around the room for anything else. Under the bed were his caligae boots, they went in the bag, too, which he fastened with a buckle.

  He then sat on the chair and waited, so as to give Galvyn more time to leave, while giving more thought to his imminent journey through the marshes.

  It was already getting late in the afternoon and it would be dark soon. Night would fall before he was able to make it out of Fennelbek but that couldn't be helped now. Waiting around wasn't an option.

  His predicament wouldn't be so bad if he'd been able to buy a blade, just like he had intended. He wouldn't have traded in his old one if he knew that he wouldn't be able to replace it. As it was, completing his journey quickly would have to suffice, that could be a form of security in itself. Getting where he needed to be, and not hanging around in hostile territory, was his best course of action now.

  Deciding he'd given the b
oy enough time, Hayden stood, threw the knapsack over his shoulder and went downstairs.

  Reaching the bar of the inn, he looked around. The table they'd been sitting at was empty. He wasn't certain it would be. Galvyn had seemed nervous about being left on his own. Perhaps he felt safer in the village, if so he was probably right.

  Hayden had been keeping observant since leaving Serfacre and was confident they hadn't been followed. There had been nobody he recognized from Coralai in the streets of Serfacre either, so it looked like Decarius had been alone after all.

  With nothing else keeping him, Hayden started to leave, but just as he was about to, he had an idea and walked over to the innkeeper.

  "Is there a back way out of here?" he asked.

  The man looked at him quizzically, "Why?"

  "The lad I was with, he was a beggar, he got a meal out of me but he might be waiting outside. I don't want him bugging me all the way to the pass," he said. Trying to put the suggestion that he was going south into the innkeeper's mind.

  "Yeah, there's a back way, follow me."

  The man lead him down a short, oak paneled corridor and past an open door with a stone staircase beyond it. Hayden guessed it lead down to the cellar, and the smell of beer that wafted up on the cool air seemed to confirm it. A few paces further on they approached a sturdy outer door.

  Hayden thought it preferable to leave this way. These properties backed onto the glades and it would mean he could travel through the forest for part the way. It would keep him off the roads and out of sight for the journey to the bridge.

  On reaching the exit, the innkeeper slid the bolts, unlocked the door and opened it, before stepping to one side to let him through. Hayden stepped outside, and nodded his appreciation.

  "Thank you, and goodbye," he said, turning right and taking a few steps.

  "Have a safe journey, sir." The innkeeper said, closing the door.

  At the sound of the bolts sliding shut, Hayden slowed and stopped. Once he was sure the innkeeper was finished locking up, he turned and walked back. Past the now closed door and the alleyway beyond it.

  66

  To his left and further into the mine, Tregarron saw the glow of three lanterns, each one illuminating the immediate area around it and carried by a guardsman.

  It seemed that his men had found some miners' lamps so as to better carry out their search. Their blue uniforms, helmets and halberds making for unmistakable shapes and colors in the gloom of the mine. And while Tregarron was pleased to see the search being done correctly, he was now sure it would not be necessary.

  "Where's Phelan?" he asked, walking over to the nearest guard.

  "Over there," Mountfield said, pointing further into the mine and to a guard searching some of the darker recesses. Phelan turned on hearing his name, and when he spoke, his voice echoed around the void.

  "Captain?"

  "You haven't found anything, have you," Tregarron said, more telling than asking.

  "No, not yet," Phelan replied, beginning to walk back toward him, "You sound as if you don't expect me to."

  "I don't. I think our man did come this way, but he's left already, we're forty minutes behind him. Tell me what you know about a boy called Galvyn," Tregarron said. Carefully picking his way further in to the dark mine, while the other guards stopped their searches and began falling in.

  "Galvyn?" Phelan frowned, thrown by his sudden change of questioning. "Well, he lodges in Tivitay," eyes flickering with realization in the light of the miners lamp, "and now you come to mention it, he's an apprentice—"

  "Of Croneygee, I know. Where in Tivitay does he lodge?"

  "I'm pretty sure it's Willard's. He's been there a few months if memory serves. Quiet lad, no trouble."

  "Not until now anyway," he said, meeting Phelan halfway.

  Just then, Collis and Hackett, the two guards he'd whistled over from north of the fort arrived, both out of breath.

  "Are we needed?" Collis asked, sweating and gasping, his uniform better suited for standing guard than for running pursuits.

  "Yes," he said, doing a quick head count, "the six of us should be fine and Teague will bring more shortly," he added, looking around and surveying the layout of the mine. "We're going up through Croneygee's workshop, which of these stairs would you say is the right one?"

  The guards starting looking around too, but before any could answer, Tregarron was on the move.

  "Bring some light," he said, stepping toward some nearby stairs, next to which rested an empty and uncoupled a coal tub.

  Tregarron knew that the armorer was one of the few craftsmen to still bring up coal from this part of the seam. Deciding that this had to be the one, he started climbing, with Phelan and the other guards following him up the stairs.

  "Do you think Galvyn's involved, Captain?" Phelan asked, as they ascended.

  "Yes, but whether he is complicit or in danger himself, I don't know."

  Tregarron thought back to his conversation with the apprentice earlier. At the time he had thought the young man had been answering his questions truthfully, yet he'd suspected there was something else. The young man had been protecting somebody, but who and why? He didn't know. He had assumed taking possession of the necklace would bring matters to him, but that's not how things were working out.

  Well, if matters wouldn't come to him…

  67

  After making sure that nobody was paying them any attention, Alyssa leaned close to the person she had now become intensely interested in, and, placing her lips close to his ear, she whispered to him.

  "There's an alley behind us, we're going to go there, and then you're going to tell me everything you know, aren't you?"

  The boy nodded and slowly started moving toward the alleyway, while Alyssa followed him, looking back along the street as she did so, keeping her dagger pressed against his flesh the whole time. When they were a few steps into the alleyway, the boy started to turn, fear etched on his face.

  "Please, I haven't done anything—"

  In one movement, Alyssa took the blade from his back, turned him toward her and held it to his throat. While backing him further into the alleyway, out of sight and earshot of the street.

  "You've seen it though haven't you? My necklace, you've seen it and you know where I can find it."

  "If you think something of yours is stolen, maybe you should go and see the captain of the guard," the young man stammered.

  "I didn't say it was stolen. I might have simply lost it," she said, holding the blade more firmly to his throat and scrutinizing him.

  For a moment the boy's eyes lost their look of panic and instead took on a more knowing look and she returned it. Had she caught him in a lie? Or had he revealed a truth that she herself had not been certain of, something that he had gleaned from the Ettinshel itself.

  "What else do you know about it?" she demanded.

  "I…" but before he could continue, there came the sound of sliding bolts and a door unlocking at the rear.

  Alyssa immediately pushed the boy against the wall of the inn and put her hand over his mouth. Holding the dagger so firmly to his neck that she was very nearly drawing blood. There was the sound of two men's voices, one expressing appreciation, the other wishing for a safe journey, followed by the door closing and locks fastening again.

  Alyssa pressed herself against her captive. Forcing him against the wall, not just to trap him, but to conceal them both as much as she could. She looked to the end of the alley, just few yards away, waiting and hardly breathing.

  Expecting a man to round the corner and enter the alley at any moment, but none did. A second passed, then two, nothing. Then the sounds of footsteps moving away, or were they getting closer? Her senses conflicted, and then a silhouette.

  A man, tall, muscular and with shoulder length hair, walked by the space between the two buildings. The man's body shape suggested he was looking down the alleyway, but his eyes and features could not be seen. He didn't stop and
, if he saw them, he didn't react.

  Then the man was gone, as quickly as he'd appeared.

  Alyssa turned to look into her captives eyes, her stare conveyed a silent message, don't make a sound.

  She looked again at the back of the alleyway and then all around her. At the walls, the floor, her own clothes. Evaluating the degree of their concealment. Their surroundings were shadier than street but it was daytime, it was dim at best and certainly not dark. They were visible.

  Alyssa recognized the feeling. It was one she had felt before, and had seen manifested in countless prey. The glint in the eye, the twitch of an ear, the flair of the nostrils and quiver of the muscles. Sometimes they just knew. They'd been seen.

  The man re-appeared and was moving fast, but Alyssa was ready for him and was moving fast, too. Her hand switched from the boy's mouth to his hair, pulling him away from the wall and putting him between herself and the silhouette. As she did, she brought the dagger around and up again, yanking his head back and twisting him to face away from her, with the blade once more at his exposed throat.

  The speed of her movement was enough to stop the man in his tracks. Her expert handling of the dagger, an uppercutting, stabbing motion, a statement in itself.

  "One more step and it's him, and the next step it's you," she intoned, calmly but with menace. There was no attempt to disguise her accent now, she wanted the man to know where she was from.

  As the man took one small step towards her, Alyssa intimated she would follow through with her threat, but she had no more room for maneuver. She was at the limit her threat posture would allow. It was either start drawing blood, or back away.

  Alyssa took a small step backwards, pulling the boy with her. The man had claimed some of the initiative, he sought to claim some more.