The Hekamon Read online

  It was just like the elders had told them, when they spoke of their plans to establish a trade route here, since everyone avoids these glades, they are safer than the highways. Safer from people anyway.

  They were now on a worn path, an animal trail most likely, boar, deer and badgers were all common enough sights. The path weaved between the trees, mostly silver birches in this part of the forest. Some of their yellowing leaves remained but most had fallen, creating a carpet of yellow that crunched underfoot, releasing the scent of fresh earth and aromatic oils. While the starlight provided enough illumination in these fair surroundings to allow them to make good progress.

  "I can hear the sound of water." Alyssa said, as they approached an important waypoint, "Spring Glade?"

  "Yes," he said, as the pair entered another clearing much larger than the last. "We turn for home here but we'll take a moment before we do."

  Spring Glade was a large open field, sloping gently downhill and surrounded by birch trees, their bark shimmering and the branches swaying in the chill breeze. They hadn't stopped here on the way to Tansley's, but now they took a few minutes to rest and get their bearings.

  They walked toward the center of the glade, where the sound of running water grew louder, until they arrived at a mountain spring. Crystal clear water pouring out of the hillside, filling a small pool and lapping over various shaped and colored pebbles.

  Small stones and a few larger hailstones surrounded the pool, from which water flowed into a small stream, before continuing down to the edge of the clearing, one hundred yards away.

  "The source of the Rhavenbrook," he said, resting the leather bag on one of the large rocks, before kneeling down and cupping one hand to take a drink. After a few gulps of the cold, fresh water he took the opportunity to fill his boar-hide leather water flask.

  Alyssa did likewise, and when duly refreshed, she looked around the glade, "It's beautiful here," she said, speaking quietly.

  "Yes," he agreed, taking in the vista. The starry night sky was especially striking, their high vantage point on the hillside giving and unimpeded view to the northern horizon.

  "I'm trying to imagine what it must be like at other times," his sister said softly, "It must be particularly beautiful on warm summer's day. I wonder if I will ever see it like that."

  "That will never happen," he told her emphatically.

  Alyssa seemed a little crestfallen at his certainty but misunderstood his reasoning, "Must we always travel at night?" she asked.

  Kormak touched the tattoo on the right side of his face, "I'm a ferguth, so yes, we must," and seeing his sister's disappointment added, "but that's not the main reason." He then turned to look south, and the wall of stone that rose up behind them, "This close to the mountains, the glade won't see a summer's day either."

  Alyssa looked at the imposing mountain, and then to the eastern horizon, "What about at dawn and dusk? The sun is a little to the north then, in the summer anyway."

  "Yes," he laughed, "the glade will get some sun then, and if we don't get a move on we might get an idea of how it will look."

  "Yes, it's getting cold, let's get back."

  His sister was right, the breeze was picking up and it had an edge to it. He looked up at the movement of the clouds that dotted the night sky, to determine the direction of the wind.

  "The wind's coming from the north."

  "That would explain it," Alyssa said, giving a shiver.

  The northerly winds might be bringing the chill air but also meant the weather could be predicted for a few hours ahead. Kormak could see there were a few clouds, but not rain bearing, and there was no rain on the horizon.

  Scanning the whole sky, his gaze moved to the limit of his view south, and the ridge line of the mountains, before continuing along and settling on the highest peak, rising up two thousand feet or more above him.

  As he stood, looking at the imposing rock face, something grabbed his attention. Directly above him and about two-thirds of the way up the mountainside, he saw a light. It glowed and flickered for a few seconds before disappearing.

  Kormak waited, not blinking and not breathing but seeing nothing more. He was sure he hadn't imagined it.

  "Are we leaving?" Alyssa asked, her voice a little distant since she had already set off.

  "Yes," he said, breathing again but keeping his eye on the mountain.

  In this darkness and at that distance, it would be impossible to make out anything other than the light of a torch. Had he seen torchlight? What else could it have been? If so, it must have been Coralainians, since only they use the caverns and tunnels that were rumored to run through the mountains.

  "Is everything okay?" Alyssa asked, more with impatience than worry. "I'd like to get home now."

  Kormak stared at the mountainside for a few more seconds, before turning to his sister, "Everything's fine, let's go," he said, picking up the bag, putting it over one shoulder and giving a cursory look up at the mountain once more. Nothing to concern us anyway, he thought to himself, before catching up with Alyssa, where the two of them followed the path of the stream, down through the glade and back into the forest.

  6

  Taking the lantern hanging from a hook on the ceiling, Tansley left the woodshed and closed the door. It should only be an escape route, he told himself, as he moved to the counter and brought the rabbit skin pouch up from the shelf underneath. He had started to use the tunnel as a way of trading with Fennreans. Their illicit herbs not something he should be dealing in but they were proving lucrative.

  It had come at the cost of having to reveal the whereabouts of the tunnel to Kormak, and now his sister, too. He had been wary of doing so, with the reputation of the swamp dwellers being what it was. Yet in his experience, they didn't seem as bad as they were made out to be. Tall, strong and fresh faced, must be all that outdoor living. They spoke funny though, and the swamp left its mark on them, on Kormak especially. If his face tattoo was intended to evoke menace, it worked. It was the sign he was a ferguth, an enforcer of the marshes.

  Placing the lantern on the counter Tansley opened the pouch and checked the clay vials once again, their pungent odors filling the room. He'd accidentally revealed to Kormak that the empessence herb was worth more than the rest. That might have been a mistake. Or perhaps it was for the best, they should focus on the herbs that made the most business sense. Truth be told, a few of them he would just throw away, so as to be rid of the stench.

  Having finished sorting the vials, his attention was drawn to the silver necklace that lay enticingly among them. Lifting and inspecting it by the light of the lantern, he could see his first appraisal had been correct. The fine silver chain was of the highest quality and the attached pendant had been crafted by an artisan. A mixture of intricate engravings and etchings resulted in a variety of patterns that seemed to change and transform depending on how the light struck it it. Tansley held it close to the lantern to study it in detail.

  The main pattern on the pendant was of a series of spirals, a triple whorl motif. He had seen something like it before, he was sure of it, and in the context of the other runes and symbols, it was undoubtedly a piece of Fennrean jewelry. He would have identified it as such, how ever it had reached him, but seeing it taken from the neck of the tall Fennrean girl left him in no doubt.

  He continued turning the pendant over in his hand, marveling at the exquisite engravings, before moving his attention to the chain. He could see that Kormak had been skilled enough to remove the necklace without his sister noticing, but not so skilled to do so without breaking it. That was a pity, it was a beautiful piece otherwise.

  He chuckled to himself, Kormak must have really wanted the gauntlets, this necklace looked to be far more valuable. Holding it up by the chain, Tansley let the pendant spin. Admiring its shimmering, ethereal glow in the candle light, before closing his hand around it tightly. He would make preparations to sell it.

  His dealings with Kormak had been intermit
tent and the journey for the ferguth was a risky one. The young man was outside his territory and there was no guarantee he would be back. Anyway, in the time it would take him to get enough herbs together to buy back the necklace, his sister would likely have forgotten all about it, giving it up as lost.

  Since Kormak had only ever shown interest in his military wares, he would offer him a few rusty swords in return for any more herbs he was able to bring. The young Fennrean would have to accept and could hardly cry foul, it was he who had stolen it.

  Tansley realized, that if he was going to sell the necklace, he would need to get it repaired first, and for that he knew just the person. Someone very skilled in making and repairing chains and inexpensive, too. And as luck would have it, he would be seeing them tomorrow on an errand he needed to run.

  Searching around his shop, he started busily preparing for the following day's journey. It was well past midnight and he didn't want to be rushing around in the morning. Finding a hessian sack he started to place some of his damaged stock in it. Leather bracers, boots, some studded pauldrons and helms. Practically worthless in their current condition but an armorer at the Serfacre workshops would get them back into an acceptable state for display and sale.

  With the bag filled and tied, he leaned it against the wall behind his counter. After making sure his hut was locked, he climbed the stairs for bed, and as he did, his mind turned to the Fennrean girl.

  Of all the fabrics to choose from, it was interesting that she picked out the rag that she did. He'd found it discarded in the stream that ran behind his hut a few weeks earlier. It was quite possibly the most worthless item in his store. Tansley shook his head in amazement at the girl's poor taste, while making plans for what to do with her necklace.

  Tomorrow, he would give the damaged stock to the master armorer, while the broken necklace, he would give to the man's young and skillful apprentice to repair.

  Climbing into bed, Tansley blew out the lantern. He needed to get some sleep, he had a busy day ahead of him.

  7

  His patience was wearing thin, "In your own time, Aegis," Decarius said, trying to contain his anger. They had not got far in the last hour.

  "This is a bigger drop. I can't do it."

  "It's ten feet at the most. Hang down, let go and you'll fall less than three feet."

  After some cajoling, Aegis finally made it down and tucked his hands under his arms for warmth, "My hands are freezing and the rocks are icy. Can we rest?"

  "We can rest when we reach the glades below, let's try the next step, I'll help you," he said, guiding the boy to the edge and starting to ease him down.

  The irony of his needing to help and protect the son of the saceress wasn't lost on Decarius. At any other time, news that Aegis had fallen off the mountain and been broken and bloodied on the rocks below, would have given him no greater pleasure. This was the only time that such an event would cause him dismay.

  Not only would it derail their plans, it might even result in his own death. As undeserving Aegis was of the privilege, he was a person of importance. Tribunals would be convened, testimony required, retribution demanded. Decarius knew he could lay the blame on Gregario if need be, but that would mean losing a useful acolyte, something he'd rather avoid doing.

  "The ledge we are trying to drop down to is too narrow," Aegis complained, "Can we find a different one?"

  "Gregario, help him down," he said, unable to disguise the contempt in his voice.

  Gregario stepped over to have a quiet word in his ear. The gusting breeze meant the man had to raise his voice above that of a whisper to make himself heard, "Keep your anger in check Decarius, one more day and it will be over."

  "I can't put up with him for another hour, let alone another day. You deal with him," he seethed, before dropping down to the ledge below, to show that it was indeed wide enough.

  It had not occurred to him that he would have to almost carry Aegis along with him, the feebleness of the boy irritated him immensely. To think Aegis was being lined up for the position of kentarch. The leading officer of the militia. As such, the boy would be leading men who had seen combat, fighting men, warriors, heroes. Men like himself.

  "Move," he shouted up, and watched as Gregario encouraged the laggard.

  While he waited for them, Decarius found his mind wandering. He recalled the moment Volusia had told him she was making him acting-kentarch, and how Aegis would take the command from him when he came of age at twenty one. This was an honor, she'd told him, to hold the post until her son could take over. An honor? To be no more than an interim leader and then replaced by an imbecile. It was an insult. The only consolation being, that Volusia's decision to prepare Aegis for promotion to such an important position, had strengthened the feeling against her.

  "This is a lot of effort for a bag of old gloves." Aegis said, struggling to climb down before making it to the ledge below.

  What did he say?

  "They are the Plautius relic, don't speak of them in such a fashion," Gregario shouted down from the column above, giving Decarius a worried look. On seeing his expression, Gregario called to him, and started hurrying down, "Decarius, stay calm."

  "Old gloves?" Decarius shouted, grabbing Aegis. "The Plautius Gauntlets are the Eagle Standard of Coralai, when it falls into enemy hands it brings shame on us." He was incredulous, the boy spoke of them as though he would soonest give them up.

  "I know that, it just seems a lot of effort, that's all."

  "A lot of effort? One night through the Eyrie?" Suddenly he was manhandling Aegis towards the precipice, and was in his face, screaming at him, "Men have spent years and given their lives defending this position." He was lifting the boy off his feet, holding him over the edge. Did he have no honor? This coward was going to be the leader of their militia? A boot to the face and be over with it.

  "Decarius, stop," Gregario was shouting, dropping down onto the ledge.

  Decarius' mind raced with the possibilities. Why can't I just throw Aegis off the mountain? Gregario would nobley take the blame, suffer the punishment and be lauded for his sacrifice by all right minded people. A selfless act for the good of Coralai.

  Volusia could be dealt with in other ways, with new plans formulated.

  "Decarius man, calm down." Gregario pleaded, trying to pull him back from the brink.

  The swirling, strengthening wind joined the fray, and Decarius thought it to be on his side, howling and grabbing at Aegis' cloak. Feeling it too, the boy started screaming in terror, yet it felt like the gale was dragging them all off.

  "Decarius this is wrong, you must stop, no good can come from it." Gregario shouted, holding on to Aegis, wrestling for control, pulling him back towards safety. "The mission is paramount, we must not fail," Gregario said, his voice threatening to be carried away by the wind, but the man's words had proven forceful enough.

  He had been set a task, he must fulfill his mission. Decarius relented and started to bring Aegis back to solid ground. Once the boy had found his feet, the three of them moved closer to the shelter of the cliff face. The boy huddled into a corner of the cliff and Gregario placed himself between them, breathing hard, staring at him and mouthing something. Decarius couldn't make out what, but he didn't need to, the look said everything, and Gregario was right. One more day, that was all.

  It was being at the Eyrie again. It had brought it all back to him. The horrors of warfare and the disregard for human life. It was contagious. He had to maintain control, he knew that, and looking at his terrified young companion, realized he couldn't afford to break what little spirit the boy had, or they would never get down. If anything he would need to toughen him up, put some backbone in him.

  He moved closer and turned the boy's face to him.

  "Much was sacrificed for Coralai. Many lives were lost and the Eagle Standard is the symbol of all that we fought for. If you are to be its bearer, don't disrespect it," he said. His tone was forceful but he had managed to suppress
ed his rage. His word's seemed to have the desired effect.

  "You're right," Aegis said, blinking away tears, "I'm sorry. Let us recover my birth right, whatever the cost or the difficulty. You men are here to help me do so, and I appreciate that," he took a few deep breaths, while the wind, gentler in this sheltered place, tussled his hair. "I have not fully expressed my gratitude for your assistance. I won't question the importance of our mission again." The young man said, shaking and breathing heavily but his voice was holding firm.

  Gregario looked from one to the other. Seeing that they had regained their composure, he puffed out his cheeks, and spoke for all three of them, "Let's get off this mountain."

  The trio started to descend again. Mercifully the gale had subsided and the going became a little easier. He let Gregario take the lead position for the remainder of the journey down. And as they traveled on, Decarius was lost in his own thoughts, at his need to see the bigger picture and not to make any rash and impulsive mistakes.

  It was the civilized ways of Coralainians that set them apart from the likes of the Fennreans and their festering existence in the swamp. It was their civilization that was at stake, and to secure it, the power needed to be held by those who could be trusted to wield it. Within a few hours he would be in possession of the relic and by tomorrow, the power.

  8

  Kormak had continued the decent, deeper into the forests of the foothills, taking his sister with him. The fresh mountain stream they had drunk from, and then followed for the last few hundred yards, would be taking a different route. Meandering east and merging with other streams before rejoining them again in the marshes, in the form of the Rhavenbrook River. A large, slow moving monster that they would need a bridge to cross.

  After a couple of hours, their destination grew nearer.