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  She had been searching the woods for her necklace and had made it as far as Tansley's trading post. Either there, or somewhere near there, she encountered some men looking for the iron grippers. She was just a girl and so would have been easily disarmed. Once threatened, she would probably have told them where to look.

  Perhaps they discovered that she was looking for something, too. They tricked her into revealing to them how they could find the grippers, promising to tell her in return how she could recover her necklace. She valued that necklace more than anything.

  But would she have betrayed him? Revealed what she knew just to get her necklace back? Yes, she would. Kormak was sure of it. It was why he had been so quick to pawn it to Tansley. Alyssa's loyalties should be with him, Tolle and the ferguths, not to a shiny bauble. Her priorities were wrong. Kormak kicked out at a rotten log at the realization that his logic was sound.

  That, or something very close to it, is what must have happened.

  He was now well out of sight of Tivitay and in much more familiar territory, not only that, night was falling. It was his favorite time and place. The woods at night. Being on the wrong side of the river brought some danger, too, even better. Walking and letting his mind wander, he thought more about his sister.

  He wouldn't be too hard on her. She was young. He would forgive her. She would forgive him any mistakes he might have made, too. Not that he needed or wanted to be forgiven for anything. Being rid of the necklace was good for her, he'd done her a favor.

  It often seemed to Kormak, the necklace gave his sister strange ideas, she even talked to it, claiming it had special powers or something. That could not be healthy. She was better off without it. Maybe now she would be less willful and more accepting of what was truly important. Her mind would be free of distractions.

  He might even let Tansley keep it and take some more weapons in place of it. Or maybe just call the deal closed. Yes, that's what he would do. The herbs and the necklace had bought him the iron grippers, without doubt a priceless artifact. In the process he had freed Alyssa of what held her back, chained her down and kept her in perpetual grief. It had all worked out perfectly. At least, it will have done, once he'd brought her safely back to the marshes. He was still working on that.

  He gave some thought on how best to achieve it. Should he return to the stockade and talk to the others? He could tell them about the patrolling guards and then discuss the best course of action. It would mean returning without Alyssa and asking for help. He didn't want to do either, not if he could avoid it. It would be an admission of failure. He should be capable of bringing his sister home by himself. It was his duty.

  Perhaps he should wait until he got to Tivitayall before deciding what to do. He would rest and contemplate things at the stones there. He found the stone circle gave him some solace and inspiration. Not that the stones spoke to him or anything. His mind was sound. Curiously though, just the thought of Tivitayall seemed to give him an idea.

  The hall was his favorite waypoint south of the river. A familiar place in otherwise unfamiliar woods. It was also a place the Demedelites rarely ventured. They thought there were bears roaming there or something. It was also the place his sister would head for if not under duress. She'd been there before and knew it to be a place of sanctuary for them.

  He tried to get into her mind.

  If Alyssa was trying to avoid the guards, and she would be, there is no way she would stay in Tivitay, not with the guards patrolling there, not if she had any say in the matter. The short walk to Tivitayall was something she might do.

  His spirits lifted. Kormak knew his sister well, she would go this way if she could. If she had any control over her situation then this is the direction she would head. Quickening his pace he went deeper into the forest, as the darkness descended around him.

  89

  Despite the twilight, this particular window gave a good view over the courtyard, and from it, Brigantia could see a stone path. It ran from the north door of the keep, across an open expanse of grass, to the range of buildings that were built against the fort's outer bailey wall. The buildings swept around in an arc. From the dining hall against the north wall, through the prison to the east, the guards quarters and then finally, the main gate to the south.

  Bree watched, as her father ambled along the path toward the entrance of the dining hall. She waited patiently. Once he was through the door, she began to move. Descending the spiral staircase at its narrowest point. Usually Bree moved with silent grace but not now. This time the sound of her footsteps filled the corridors of stone keep. The patter of her feet like a prolonged drum roll, signaling her haste and urgency. It might take her father an hour or more to return from his evening meal. It didn't matter. She didn't want to waste any time. She wanted it now.

  The staircase spiraled down from Bree's own personal apartments in the keep's west tower. Her father's apartments were in the north, above his chancery, with his personal armory in the cellars below. His chancery was her destination.

  With the stairs descended, she moved into the great hall, with the lanterns hanging on the wall providing the only illumination. This was the heart of the building and Bree noticed that all of the doors leading from the hall were closed. Was it a sign that the drafty, colder days of autumn had arrived? Or was it the arrival of something else that had brought a chill to the fort.

  Having hurried down the stairs, Bree now adopted a quieter, more circumspect approach. She knew where her father was but not the captain or his wife, Kate. They occupied the apartment in the east tower and there was every chance that one or both of them would be in residence there. Bree listened for any sign they were.

  On hearing nothing, and certain the way was clear, she made her way across the great hall.

  To her right was the south side of the keep and the main entrance. Any visitors would most likely enter through the large oak door there. That was the side that faced the town and the mountains beyond, and for that reason it was heavily fortified.

  The only person that Bree had ever known to spend any time in south tower was herself. On the rare occasions that she had gone too far when exploring the grounds of the fort, with it's tunnels and adjacent forest, her father would insist she spent time in the sparse, prison-like south tower. Days and nights on end. It was for her own good he would say. For her own protection.

  She approached the door of the chancery. Might her father have locked his office? He rarely did, but if he had on this occasion, then her search would have ended before it had even begun. She tried the handle and found, much to her relief, it was unlocked.

  Bree entered the chancery, closed the door and began her search.

  She'd seen plenty of valuable pieces of jewelry before, mostly belonging to her mother. Some of which had even been bequeathed to her. Rings, necklace's and broaches, some with jewels embedded, others with intricate patterns and engravings. Most of them were locked up in her fathers apartments for safe keeping. The valuables were hers, some of them anyway. She just wasn't allowed to see them, touch them or possess them. It was better that way her father had reassured her.

  The necklace that Tregarron had brought in was different. From what she'd overheard, the men had seemed almost frightened of it. Could they be fearful of the necklace itself? She'd heard of charms and talismans, but to the best of her knowledge had never seen one, could the necklace be such thing? Did such things even exist?

  If only she'd paid more attention to what they'd been saying. When she'd walked by the chancery door, she had assumed they were talking about the usual matters of Demedelei and gave little heed. It was only on hearing a few snippets of their conversation, thanks to her father's raised voice, that her interest had been aroused. She had listened in, and the more she'd heard, the more intrigued she had become. Now that she was alone in the chancery, she could begin her search for the object of their consternation.

  Bree walked over to the large and ornately carved wooden desk in the cen
ter of the room. The oak varnished so deeply that it looked almost ebony. She moved some papers to one side. Even as she did, it was immediately apparent that the object she sought was no longer in the place that she'd last seen it.

  She cursed loudly. The act of doing so caused her to stop and look around, startled by her own expletive. She never cursed. Loudly or otherwise. Might her need for subterfuge be agitating her?

  Bree waited for her frustration to pass. She couldn't afford to be clumsy, everything needed to be returned exactly.

  Over the next few minutes, she moved all of the parchments and then replaced them just as she had found them. In doing so, she could see that the necklace, or at least, what she presumed to be a necklace, was not anywhere on the desk.

  Her heart sank. Had her father taken it with him? There was every chance that he had. Or maybe he'd placed it in the locked cabinet where he kept some of his more valuable papers. In either event it was beyond her grasp.

  She cursed again.

  Trying to get a look of the object might have been a mistake, doing so may have encouraged her father to hide it. On the other hand, she'd managed to get a glimpse of it, so at least had an idea of what she was looking for. It had been an alluring silver necklace, she was sure it was. It had been resting on the desk as though it were an important document, one to be studied and discussed. Only this time, a discussion she might be interested in.

  Bree suddenly remembered that the desk had drawers, an ideal place to look. She went around to the other side and as she did, an image came into her mind, of her father casually opening a drawer and dropping the necklace in. It was exactly the kind of thing he would do. It's what he had done. Somehow, she just knew, and could even picture the necklace laying there, waiting to be found.

  She moved her hand to open the drawer.

  She stopped herself. So far she had only entered the chancery and that was not something she was forbidden from doing. Searching through the desk though, that would be something else entirely. It would look suspicious, and if she was caught it would be more difficult to explain away. Her father would guess what it was she was looking for and several weeks spent in the south tower would follow.

  Deciding that what she had seen was worth the risk, Bree moved to open the drawer again, but hesitated once more. The only part of the conversation she'd overheard with any clarity was that the object was dangerous, cursed even. It seemed to be something powerful. Was she sure she wanted to find it? Something that troubled her father? Occupied the thoughts of the captain?

  She opened the drawer, and there, resting on top of a brown leather-bound ledger, was the silver necklace. She reached in and took possession of it.

  Her first realization was that the chain was broken, that detail seemed important. Was that how it had come to be in her fathers possession? Had it fallen or been grabbed from the neck of person to whom it belonged? It seemed plausible, nobody would willingly give up something so beautiful.

  Even by the dim light coming through the narrow chancery window, Bree could see how the silver shimmered and sparkled, while the delicately etched symbols sharpened and faded again as it spun about its chain.

  Looking more closely at the pendant that hung from it, she could see a small catch on the side, it wasn't just a pendant but a locket. She could open it. Inside there was what looked like a lock of hair and more symbols and motifs. These were things she would examine later.

  Closing the locket, she allowed it to rest in the palm of her hand. No sooner had she done so, than she realized she could hear something. Voices and very close at that. So close she would have sworn they were in the same room as her.

  She placed the necklace back in the drawer and moved back to the center of the room, anticipating the chancery door to open at any moment. She stood facing it, ready to explain herself and the meaning of her presence there, but it remained shut. Taking a few paces forward she opened it herself, expecting to see visitors, but the great hall was empty.

  Could the voices have come from the courtyard outside the keep? She doubted it. Some sound did get through the windows but not much. They were small and the glass several inches thick. The walls were several feet thick and no sound came through those at all.

  She looked at the desk and thought of the object it contained. She hadn't come this far to go back now.

  Returning to the drawer, she once more took possession of the necklace, and, holding it by the chain, slipped it into the pocket of her white dress.

  Stepping out of the chancery and into the great hall, she walked back towards the steps of the tower that lead to her apartments. Before she had even made it to the tower she reached for the necklace and held it again.

  This time she didn't just hear, she saw, she felt, and she knew.

  It was powerful, it was charmed and it might even be cursed. There was a raven nearby, she could feel its mind. See what it could see, hear what it could hear. It wasn't the only mind she could feel. There was another one, much more powerful and it seemed to surround her.

  Suddenly, Bree had a powerful connection to other living things. She had felt that before, but now the connection seemed to strengthen into something far more tangible than she could ever have imagined. Her mind was no longer her own, not entirely, it was a small part of something greater. It was as though something, or someone, had reached in and grabbed her.

  Returning the necklace to her pocket, Bree tried not to make a sound. Not because she thought anyone might hear her. But because she worried that if she did make a sound, it would not be an intelligible sound. It would not be her voice. It would be something… unworldly, like the cry of an eagle or, more likely, the croak of a raven. That disturbed her. More than that, it frightened her.

  Reaching the first step of the stone staircase to her rooms, she stopped. Her breathing was heavier and heartbeat faster. She had wanted more than anything to take possession of the mysterious object, right from the very moment she'd seen it. Now she wasn't so sure.

  Should she return it? Might it be for the best? For her own safety? The necklace had the potential to bring trouble and lot's of it, she could feel it. It was stolen and it's owner was looking for it. Of this she was certain.

  Bree hesitated, unsure of what to do.

  She stepped from the tower, back into the great hall and toward the chancery door. She placed her hand on the handle and opened the door. Immediately, she heard another door open, the north door to the courtyard. It caused the lanterns on the walls to flicker and sent a chill draft through the corridor.

  So familiar was Bree with the sounds of the fort, that she immediately knew who had entered. Simply from the way the door had opened would have been enough, she could have identified the man from that alone, but if she needed more, then then footsteps that sounded along the stone corridor confirmed her suspicions. The precise steps and efficient movement, the strident, heavy boots and brisk pace. It was Tregarron.

  Bree made her decision, but then, she had no choice, there was no decision to make. She couldn't just wait for Tregarron to walk around the corner, because if she did, then he would know that she'd stolen the necklace. He would take one look at her, and he would know.

  This time Bree didn't hesitate, she slipped through the chancery door and closed it behind her in one silent movement. Tregarron had his talents and she had hers. She could be as quiet as a mouse when she wanted to be.

  Bree stepped away from the door, and faced it.

  The captain would be rounding the corner at this very moment. He was going to his quarters, he had to be. It was evening, he must be going there. She waited. Waited to hear him cross the great hall, listening for the sounds that would confirm his movement. The footsteps grew louder, he was nearing the door, they grew louder still. He was coming to the chancery.

  Bree faced the door, but couldn't face the captain.

  The handle turned and the door began to open. As it did, she moved quickly and quietly into the corner behind it. She was delay
ing the inevitable, she knew that, but she couldn't help it. Her instincts told her to hide, so that's what she did. The door opened and it concealed her, for the moment anyway.

  A hopeful thought crossed her mind. Maybe when Tregarron saw that her father wasn't there, he would leave again.

  There was a pause, the door stayed open, another footstep and the door opened a little more. He wasn't leaving, he was coming inside.

  At that very moment, she heard another door open. Bree knew it was the main entrance to the keep at the end of the south corridor.

  There came rattle of the iron handle and the creak of the hinges. The sound was accompanied by movement next to her, too. There was something in the way the door beside her rocked to and fro, that told Bree the captain had turned to see who had entered. And from the sounds that followed, she discovered who it was herself. There came the voice of a guard, and she knew which one, his name was Groucutt.

  "Captain, there has been another man assaulted."

  "Where?" Tregarron replied.

  "Where the attack happened? I don't know, but the man is being taken to the priory."

  "Thank you, Groucutt. I will look into it."

  The door to her father's office started to close and then shut firmly.

  Bree was alone in the chancery once more. With the sounds of the captain's footsteps, retreating across the great hall, and her own pounding heart, all she could hear.

  It had been a close run thing and she would take no more risks. She would return the necklace to the place she had found it and leave.

  Bree walked around the desk and opened the drawer, reached into the pocket of her dress, took out her necklace, and hesitated.

  Chapter 15

  90

  Pryor Jervay raised the flame and carefully lit the last of the candles on the chandelier. The long pole and wick reaching into the gloom of the nave's high ceiling and illuminating the oak beams and rafters above. The numerous candles and lanterns located throughout the priory took time to light but Jervay found the effort worth it. The warm glow emanating from all around seemed to affirm the spiritual nature of the building. It kept the chill out, too.