The Hekamon Read online

  "I can see." Aegis said, his gaze following the river to the horizon. The mid-morning sunlight that reflected off the surface of the river and pools was quite noticeable, despite Fennelbek's perennial fog.

  "And there, in the middle?" Aegis asked, pointing to the hill just visible amongst the haze and mists that clung to the marshland.

  "Ochre Hill," he replied, saying the name the way the Fennreans who resided there said it, sharp and staccato.

  "That's Ochre Hill?" Aegis said breathlessly.

  Decarius smiled, he had reacted the same way when he'd first seen it, too. That had been eighteen years ago, when he was the same age as Aegis was now. They were at war with the Fennreans then, and the Demedelites for that matter. A series of running battles and skirmishes that would last another three years. Bewailing wars? What was lamentable about sorting the weak from the strong? If anything, the resulting injustice should be called the bewailing peace.

  Ochre Hill, every Coralainian had heard of it, but the mountains that separated them meant it always seemed further away in their minds. Yet there it was. He could even make out the dark red streaks of clay soils that gave the hill its name.

  Luckily, they would be having nothing to do with Fennreans on this journey. So there was no need to let Aegis trouble himself recalling tales of those who survived encounters with them. Rather than dwell on the swamp, he pointed out another area, less fearsome, less brutish.

  "And over there," he said, pointing east, "bear country."

  "Really?" Questioned Aegis, a little disbelieving.

  "And wolves, too."

  "Wolves I can believe, I've seen wolves, they're not uncommon, but not a bear. Are there any near here?" Aegis asked.

  Decarius shook his head, "Not that I know of, but they forage at this time of year, and look for places to hibernate, so I wouldn't be surprised if there were."

  "What should we do if we see one?"

  "Kill it, skin it and sell the pelt to one of these tradesman." Decarius said, without hesitation.

  "There are no bears," Gregario chimed in, chewing on the last of his bread cob. "Their existence is an invention to scare off anyone who might tempted to explore the tunnels."

  Decarius smiled wryly as his assured bear hunter facade evaporated. "Wolf pelt is worth more anyway." He had hunted a few wolves so felt on firmer ground.

  Gregario glanced at him, seemingly about to correct him again, but chose not to. Wise decision, Decarius thought, he would be sure to re-establish his authority by his preferred methods if the man did.

  He stood, indicating the rest was over. Gregario and Aegis wordlessly followed suit, and the three of them set off again. Walking out of the clearing and into the woods.

  They were close to the wall of the mountains, its sheer rock face rising above them, but not so close that they would be above the tree line and silhouetted against its gray expanse. Decarius wanted to be as discrete as possible. Just the three of them, to trading posts and back, with minimum fuss.

  Within the hour they would be at the trading post in question, one that specialized in surplus military stock, and their journey home with the Plautius Gauntlets would begin shortly after.

  12

  After walking for a few minutes, Alyssa lifted her gaze and looked up. Ahead of her she could see the glow of Spring Glade and the silver birches that surrounded it. Their bark reflecting what little light there was and illuminating the forest.

  The sound of trickling water became more apparent, too, and before long, Alyssa was standing by the stream, at the point it turned to head east. She and Kormak had stood at this spot a few hours earlier and she was relieved to be able to locate her position precisely.

  Following the stream to its source, Alyssa entered into the clearing. The yellowing grass and fallen leaves imbuing the glade with a golden hue. A welcome sight from the comparative dimness of the forest.

  The breeze may have been gentle, but where it was channeled down by the rock edifice it grew in strength. The resultant dust eddies whirled around the clearing, forcing her to raise a hand to shield her eyes.

  At the very moment she did so, there was movement away to her right. She stepped back, out of the glade and back into the cover of the forest. Holding her breath, she looked again, scanning tree line.

  As she watched, the gusting downdraft from the mountain flowed and swirled, causing the tress to sway with it. At its prompting, the occasional dust devil of earth and leaves sprung up before settling back just has quickly.

  The thought that it was a dust devil that had caught her attention, only partly calmed her fears. They were said to be the apparition of malevolent spirits, trapped in this world, awaking to stalk the unsuspecting and unwary. At the very least they were a sign that she needed to keep her wits about her.

  As the breeze subsided and the swirling leaves with it, Alyssa moved forward once again, following the stream up to the spring were it trickled out of the hillside. As she reached the pool her excitement grew. She might be about to chance upon her necklace and she found herself willing it to be there. But after a few minutes searching, her heart sank once more, when she saw no sign of it.

  It wasn't as though she was looking in the wrong place, she was able to see exactly where she'd knelt in early hours of that morning. Alyssa searched around the rocks and even in the crystal clear pool itself. If it was there she would see it. It wasn't there.

  As she sat on one of the nearby hailstones, her despondency welled up again and the shawl was once more required. Dabbing away a few more tears, she felt all cried out and her emptiness gave way to anger. She threw the embroidered garment away and watched as it fell limply to the ground.

  It had started to occur to Alyssa that her brother placing the shawl around her neck, was very likely the moment the necklace had come loose. Kormak had been a rough putting it on her and his heavy handedness had probably been to blame. Could he have broken the chain? Not that she would blame her brother for his clumsiness if he had, it was thoughtful of him to buy her something, but she had lost far more than she'd gained.

  If the necklace really had broken at that moment, then there was a chance it was either in Tansley's hut or in the tunnel.

  Yes, that would explain it. Her hopes rising again. She tried to picture the series of events.

  When the shawl was placed around her neck, the necklace broke but stayed in the folds of the fabric. As they entered the tunnel, crouching down and crawling along in the tight space, the necklace worked free and fell. It would be impossible to see in the darkness.

  This must have been what happened she realized triumphantly, standing and clenching her first, certain of her reasoning.

  The last part of the journey to the hut she had committed to memory, every step. She would continue to keep one eye on the ground and walk slowly, taking care not to be seen, just in case. But her focus now was on the trading post. Within in an hour, her mother's final and most precious gift to her would be back in her possession.

  13

  The path through the hills had brought the three Coralainians out onto the Regis Highway, fifty paces south of the trading posts. As they approached the first hut, Decarius could see the highway was deserted, just as he hoped and expected it would be.

  Leading them along the road toward the first hut, Decarius could see that it was typical of those found in these forested hills. A ramshackle, wooden, two story building. Visitors were infrequent, and the merchants who lived here, were as much trappers and woodsmen as they were shopkeepers.

  He could see piles of recently cut logs stacked up against the side of the building, being seasoned for next years winter, while a number of dead rabbits hung forlornly from the rafters. As he approached the first shop, he stopped and turned to Gregario.

  "Why don't keep a lookout to the rear of the buildings, just in case."

  Gregario considered the idea for a moment, before nodding his agreement and moving off the road and back into the forest.


  "Why?" Aegis asked, watching Gregario disappear into the trees.

  "We came here to look, so let's look, front and back."

  This seemed to satisfy Aegis, but he was more concerned at having his fellow militiaman out of view than anything else.

  With Gregario now out of sight, Decarius walked up to the door of the first hut and knocked. After waiting for a moment, he tried the handle and the door opened to reveal the gloomy interior. No sooner had he entered, than a large, bearded man carrying an ax, came through a curtained doorway and into the shop front.

  "Open for business, sir?" Decarius asked, deciding to put on a polite tone, not something that came naturally to him. He was more accustomed to issuing orders. Minimum fuss.

  "The name's Darby. What can I do for you?" The man said, in a businesslike fashion.

  "Have we interrupted you cutting firewood?" Aegis asked, seeming to think some small talk might be appropriate.

  "Nope." Darby replied, offering no further explanation.

  Decarius stared at Aegis for a few seconds, in a manner that said, keep quiet, before turning to the man, "We're looking for something in particular. As anyone stopped by your shack, that is, your store, in the last few days? A Coralainian heading north?"

  "I've had some customers but I don't ask who they are or where they're going though, now do I?" Darby said, clearly irritated by the question.

  "Someone selling, rather than buying," Decarius said choosing his words carefully.

  "Selling something that didn't belong to him," Aegis added, not entirely helpfully.

  The man looked from Decarius to Aegis, and back again, "Am I being accused of something here?" he growled.

  "No accusations, we're sorry to have bothered you," Decarius said, taking a few coins from his belt.

  "Because I don't take kindly to people coming into my store," the man's growl becoming a roar, "and accusing me of handling stolen goods."

  "Here's something for you trouble," he said, placing the coins on the counter, "thank you for your help and goodbye," he concluded, walking out and not waiting for his young companion.

  By the time Aegis had followed him out of the hut he was already a dozen paces up the road, forcing the boy to run to catch up. When he had almost drawn level, Decarius stopped and turned so quickly that they collided. Grabbing Aegis by the throat, he looked at him and hissed through gritted teeth.

  "You're here to observe, is that understood? I'll do the talking and you will do the listening. That way we will get what we came for and you will still be in possession of your head," he let go and started walking towards the next hut.

  "But how do we know he doesn't have them?" Aegis asked, rubbing his neck.

  Decarius stopped and calmed himself, before turning back to face Aegis, "Some people are more reasonable that others, we'll ask around and, if necessary, find them by a process of elimination."

  "But how can we be sure the gauntlets are even here, with any of the merchants?"

  "Leave the talking to me, I won't tell you again. If they're here, I'll find them," he said, turning and walking off again.

  Reaching the next hut, he went inside and Aegis dutifully followed.

  14

  Tansley rose late. He'd been listening for the sound of potential customers for a couple of hours, but with there being no sign of anyone, he'd stayed in bed.

  Only now that it was late morning did he stir. Since he'd been up late dealing with the Fennreans, he thought a lie in was in order, but now a warm drink and some freshly cooked bacon was proving more alluring.

  While splashing some cold water on his face, he thought about the series of trades that had taken place the previous day.

  Firstly, he'd bought the beautiful but antiquated gauntlets, from a Coralainian man heading north, for a surprisingly small sum. Then he'd offloaded them for an equally large sum, to a couple of eager young Fennreans. If he could get someone to pay over the odds for the silver necklace too, it will have proven to be a very lucrative few days. Pulling on his worn braccae and equally threadbare tunic, he decided some new clothes would be first on the list of how to spend his profits.

  Once downstairs and in the kitchen, he took a joint of salted pork and cut a few slices. The embers of his stove were hot enough to fire a little kindling into life and a few logs were soon alight. Some goose fat went into a pan, followed by the slices of bacon and before long it was sizzling. The smell of it cooking was only making him hungrier but his late breakfast would be a little while yet. He cut himself some bread and made a drink while he was waiting.

  With the kettle boiled and pot stewed, he strained the tea into a mug and took a few sips, before carrying his beverage back upstairs. There, he made use of the view from the first floor windows, and looked out see if anyone was in sight.

  From this vantage point, Tansley could see all along the highway and right up to the High Gate. The most likely direction from which potential customers would approach, but saw nothing to suggest his breakfast would be disturbed.

  It was then he heard the sound of knocking, too quiet to be on his own door. Turning to look down the highway in the other direction, he saw two figures at the neighboring trading post, fifty yards away.

  Tansley knew right away they were Coralainians. It wasn't so much the way they were dressed, although the boots strapped high above the ankle was a clue, so too the white tunic. They did tend to be the preferred style in Coralai but not uniquely so, since there were a few Demedelites who would dress in a similar fashion. Nor was it the black, closely cropped hair. Though that hairstyle was much more common, in both color and length, for those from the south.

  The giveaway for Tansley was the short pugio dagger and its position on the belts of both men. Maybe it was because he was a dealer in armaments that he found this feature so telling, but whatever the reason, he knew where they were from. More worryingly, he thought he knew what they were after.

  The gauntlets that had passed through his store yesterday had been unusual. Despite his experience with armor, he hadn't seen anything quite like it before. They had been distinctive and almost ceremonial. Not only that, the seller, a shifty and taciturn man, had agreed to his first, and very low, offer for them. He had never really doubted they were stolen and was happy to have sold them on as quickly as he did. Tansley felt sure that these two men were on the hunt for them.

  There were clues to their intent. They were moving up from the east, they'd come through the mountains not over the pass to avoid detection. They carried no bags, travelers always had bags of some description. These two didn't and so were likely visiting with the view of returning the same day. More than that it was their demeanor, especially the taller of the two men. He meant business.

  Tansley watched as they entered Cox's trading post and tried to calm his suspicions. Might he have jumped to conclusions? Visitors were rare, could he pass up the chance of more custom? After all, they may just be buying some things here, something they couldn't get in Coralai. That was quite possible, but after his recent dealings, he felt inclined to lay low. A quiet few days would have been ideal, it would have meant no repercussions.

  To almost immediately be visited by someone from Coralai was exactly what he didn't want. Added to that, there was something about these two that worried him. The younger one had an air of self importance, while older of the two looked ex-militia, or maybe just militia.

  There was something about the way he carried himself. His right arm resting casually at his side, yet the slight hook to the elbow showed control, poise a readiness. They lacked the red uniform that would single them out as militia, but then they could hardly come this way dressed as such. Yet both wore identical clothes, white tunics and black cloaks, like an unofficial uniform.

  Going back downstairs he entered the front of his shop, it was securely bolted and the wooden blinds closed, just as he had left it the night before. If he was going to open for business he would need to start unlocking things. He reached for th
e key on his belt but hesitated, his inclination was to sit tight and wait for them to leave.

  With the smell of cooked bacon filling the hut and providing a welcome distraction, Tansley went to the kitchen and finished making his sandwich, deliberating as he did so, before taking a bite.

  He looked at the stove, his chimney would be billowing smoke, they would know the building was occupied. Should he let them in and bluff?

  He went back into the shop front and looked around. With the blinds closed it was dark but some light found its way from the hallway and the windows upstairs. If they came in, what would they see? Anything to indicate that he had indeed traded with some Coralainians in the last few days, something he really didn't want to admit to.

  It was then he saw the sack of damaged goods he had packed the night before. It immediately jogged his memory, he was supposed to be taking some things to Croneygee today. It had completely escaped his mind, but now it seemed like sign. He took another bite from his sandwich before placing it on the counter.

  Reaching down and lifting the loose tile he took the rabbit skin bag from the hidden compartment beneath. He opened the pouch, took out the necklace and placed it in one pocket, three of the clay vials went in another, before returning the pouch and replacing the tile.

  With that done, he put on his blue hooded jacket, before carefully moving the sack of armor to the back of the store and next to the woodshed.

  No sooner had he done so than there was a knock on the door.

  It was the sound of the knocking, as much as anything else, that made Tansley's mind up. Not the rat-tat-tat of an inquiring customer but a slow rhythmic banging of an insistent investigator.

  Picking up his bag, Tansley quietly entered the woodshed and closed the door behind him. He removed the logs from in front of the hatchway, before opening it and going inside, pushing the bag head of him as he went.