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As the door above them opened, the light and fresh air that streamed in, caused him to untense. The feeling of being buried alive didn't completely disappear but it faded enough that he could get moving again.

  Keeping his head down, Gregario inched along, keeping a steady pace.

  The illumination the open trapdoor provided was helpful, to begin with anyway, but as he crawled further along, all too quickly he found himself immersed in darkness again. Unable to see clearly, he began to weave erratically from side to side, like a beetle, startled by the sudden lifting of its protective stone shelter. His shoulders inadvertently bumped into the wooden support posts either side as he went. They moved with each impact, disturbing the earth, which crumbled around him.

  The thought that the roof may cave in on him took hold more strongly. The sensation of his chest being crushed, along with the dusty air he was breathing, caused him to wheeze and cough. In the confined space, the sound of his retching stayed with him.

  He'd heard such sounds before, or something very much like it, in the aftermath of particularly fierce battle. The death throes of mortally wounded men, their bodies writhing in agony, their eyes pleading for help. Not for him to save them, but to end their suffering.

  The recollection brought back memories, images that did not help his state of mind at all. The end of the tunnel could not come quickly enough, but the fact he wasn't there already, meant his progress must be painfully slow. He crawled on.

  From what he had seen above ground he could guess how long the tunnel was going to be, assuming it didn't go far under the hut. If that was the case then he must be close, yet the tunnel continued, and so he struggled on, until eventually, blessedly, he made it to the end.

  The gentle bump of his head against something wooden a welcome relief. An obstruction that he assumed must give entry to the trading post. Gregario took a few deep breaths to compose himself, coughed a little more, and set about breaking in.

  He searched around what he hoped was a door. The amount of light this far in was so little as to be no help, so he had to rely on touch alone.

  From the feel of it, there seemed to be no handle or keyhole. Pushing had no effect and there was no means to pull it. Running his fingers along where the hatch met the frame, it seemed that it needed to open away from him, so he tried shoving it a few times but it didn't budge.

  A rising dread started to creep over him. As though a multitude of ants, woodlice and earwigs had invaded the tunnel from every nook and cranny. Suffocating him where he lay, ready to make a meal of him to consume at their leisure.

  "Are you there?" Aegis called, his voice muffled and distant.

  "Yes," he said, his voice weak.

  "Can you get through?"

  "No."

  There was are pause, "Are you coming back?"

  There was a longer pause, "Give me a moment to think." He could hardly get the words out.

  His breathing became labored, the sound of blood rushing in his ears was loud, like a torrent flooding out of the mountains and sweeping in. Crushing him, drowning him and burning his lungs. His mind was consumed with thoughts he couldn't dismiss. Trapped and entombed, the darkness closed in.

  He couldn't think of what to do because his mind was assaulting him with visions. The black canvass all around, proving an inviting backdrop for any manner of images his mind could conjure.

  Mostly of giant insects, though the insects weren't so bad, six legs was nothing. Giant, writhing multipedal things with claw like mandibles. Those were the ones.

  Closing his eyes didn't help, nor opening them. At any moment he would start screaming, he could feel it.

  19

  A few sips of spring water had refreshed her, but Alyssa's legs ached with the distance and difficult terrain she had covered. The only good thing was that the last part of the journey had been level ground, unlike the long climb back up the foothills.

  Leaving the glade that sat atop the moss covered, rocky escarpment, Alyssa moved back into the forest and on towards Tansley's hut. Following the sweep of the hillside, close to where the trees met the sharply rising rock face of the mountains. The landscape looked strikingly different to how it had by moonlight, despite this, Alyssa knew exactly where she was.

  She started around the contour of the hill, following the trail she knew would eventually bring the highway into view.

  How busy would the road be here? She and Kormak knew it would be deserted at night, but how many travelers might there be during the day? She was close enough now that she would soon find out for herself. If there were travelers walking on the road ahead, they gave no indication of their presence, at least, nothing discernible. The calming sounds of nature was all she could hear.

  At that moment, from the forest ahead of her and just around the hillside, came another sound, louder, sharper and alarming. It got her attention and caused her stop and crouch down. A falling branch maybe?

  A moment later another noise, urgent and panicked, then she saw them, their wings beating furiously, flying directly overhead.

  The birds had flown from the direction of the highway, it seemed that something had startled them. Could there be people there? Were there travelers on the highway? It seemed a reasonable assumption, and if there were, she would need to approach carefully. For the time being she remained where she was, crouching and listening, ready to run should the situation call for it.

  Alyssa had keen hearing and she was certain she could hear something but wasn't sure what exactly. Could it be just be the ambient sounds of the woodland? The sound of rustling leaves? Maybe, but if anything the sound grew quieter, and Alyssa started to relax.

  Before long, silence descended again, or at least, as close to silence as it would get. Unlike many areas of the marshes, this forest was alive. It felt different in that regard. Alyssa preferred it, but hadn't yet got use to it. There was much here that was unfamiliar.

  After a minute had passed, and once satisfied that any danger that may have existed was now gone, she stood once more and started moving again. Following the path that ran between two hills and down towards a culvert, into which a stream ran.

  Having passed through the hills, she was now walking beside the embankment. A long earth mound that obscured the view of the trading posts and the highway. It had enabled Alyssa and her brother to approach and leave the hut undetected, and she made use of this cover again. Walking between it and the stream that ran alongside, before stopping at the place she thought to be closest to her target.

  Climbing the embankment carefully, she could see her sense of direction had not failed her. The distinctive wooden walls and high eaves of Tansley's trading post were visible through the trees, with their smattering of autumnal leaves.

  It was quiet.

  The only sound came from the occasional burst of birdsong and the squirrels scurrying in the branches above. She saw no sign of movement. Neither in or around the hut, nor on the road beyond, at least, from what she could see of it. Smoke rose from the chimney though, suggesting Tansley was home. This gave her pause for thought.

  How might he feel about her returning? Should she make him aware of her presence and the purpose of her visit.

  After some deliberation she decided to stick with her original plan and search the tunnel. If she found the necklace there, she would just leave again. If not, she would knock on the hatch and alert Tansley, tell him about her lost necklace and ask him if he'd seen it. But before she could do any of that, she needed to find the trapdoor.

  20

  Decarius continued to give chase, while staying in the trees and hidden as much as possible, but he could see a potential problem approaching.

  If Tansley took a left turn and went into the town, he could easily lose him there. It was likely to be much busier and the man could disappear into any of the buildings. There was also the question of whether the town's east gate was guarded or not. If he tried to follow him into the town, there was a real risk that he would be stopped and q
uestioned by Demedelite guards, something he had to avoid.

  The prospect of being caught by the guards disturbed him. The information he had on them was that several of their number were former soldiers, veterans of the bewailing wars. He couldn't be certain that he hadn't crossed paths with some of them before, and there were a few of them he would prefer not to meet again. At least, not when on his own and lightly armed. Decarius suddenly felt vulnerable. It was a feeling he disliked intensely. He promised himself, that, whatever happened, he wasn't going to be caught by the guards and carted off to the fort. Yet, such a scenario was a real possibility, especially if he had to follow Tansley into Demedelei Town.

  A panic started to set in. He had to act, he had to make his move now and while they were still in the forest. If he waited too long, the chance would be gone. And for Decarius, action meant military action. It was the only thing he was trained and proficient in.

  Since he'd taken up the pursuit, he had put off the decision as to what he would do when he caught up with Tansley, he could prevaricate no more. Reaching to his focale, a red sweat cloth he wore around his neck, Decarius raised it to conceal his face and then drew his dagger.

  Moving fast now, he broke into a run, the sooner he got to his target, the less likely the people further ahead on the highway would see what was happening. He was eighty yards behind the tradesman, and that gap would close in no time at all.

  His training took over, and Decarius began to evaluate exactly how he would execute his move. He would stay in the trees until the last moment, darting out and across road.

  Approaching his target from behind, he would grab and hold back his head, exposing the neck, slitting his throat. No, that wouldn't work. Decarius could see that the way Tansley was carrying the sack complicated that move. Sixty yards and nearing the man fast, he needed to think quickly.

  He would charge the man instead, knocking him off the road, into the trees beyond and out of sight. The wind would be knocked out of his victim and, leading with the dagger, the force of the impact would drive it in to the man's side, a twist of the blade and then swiftly removed. The blood loss would be fast, unconsciousness and death would quickly follow. He could steal the sack and be gone, a violent robbery, not unheard of on this road.

  He was forty yards away now, scanning ahead for the place he would break from the forest. He saw a large tree which he would use as his marker. Looking for any sign Tansley had seen his rapid approach, he could see the man was oblivious and now just thirty yards away. Certain he could execute his attack, he planned further ahead and to his escape.

  The guards would investigate the crime, but he would be long gone and back in Coralai, even before the body was found.

  Twenty yards, He tightened his grip on the dagger and saw the gap in the tree line he would bolt from. He thought of his escape and risks to himself, the guards would ask questions, questions in the town, of the passersby, at the trading posts—

  Immediately Decarius began to slow. Two, three, four heavy footsteps, they seemed unavoidable, his speed hard to dissipate. It had been easier to run downhill quietly than slow down with similar stealth. His momentum threatening to carry him on past the man ahead of him and putting him in plain sight.

  Yet he wasn't slowing, not enough. Tansley hadn't seen or heard him but in a few seconds he would be impossible to miss. The large tree was now right in front of him and a little to the left, he could still emerge from behind it. Should he continue the attack? He was committed, it might be his only option. Then he saw another possibility, and took it.

  At the last possible moment, Decarius stepped to his left and collided with the tree, using outstretched arms to cushion the impact as best he could.

  The size and bulk of the tree meant it gave very little, the branches hardly shook, the trunk reverberated imperceptibly. Decarius absorbed the full force, ensuring it was helpfully quiet and bone jarringly painful. The tree that had stopped him, now concealed him, he was no more than ten yards behind the tradesman. One tree and a short stretch of road separating them.

  He remained there, pressed against the trunk. Winded by the collision, all he could do was lean against the tree and recover. His bones ached and his muscles were numbed from the force of the impact. But were Tansley to look around on hearing the dull thud, the man would see nothing untoward, the tree was helping him for a second time.

  Decarius took some deep breaths and managed to stop himself from coughing or gasping. He would hold position, give the merchant time to get further down the road again and re-evaluate his plans while he did.

  The guards would ask at the trading posts.

  Once Tansley's body was found they would question the other merchants, curious if they'd seen anyone acting suspiciously. There was no compulsion for them to co-operate with the guards, but they would surely look out for one of their own. They would tell of the two Coralainians that had been asking around, he couldn't chance that they wouldn't.

  Word would spread both sides of the pass. The murderous means that had been exacted would reach the saceress. Her son implicated as an accessory in a violent robbery. The intention was to discredit the saceress, her judgment, her authority. Not to burnish his reputation as loose canon. It was something he would need to avoid if at all possible.

  If he could prove Tansley had been an accessory to the theft of the Plautius Gauntlets then it would be less of an issue, but he couldn't be certain that Tansley had the gauntlets in his possession right now. They might be back at his hut, with Gregario recovering them at this very moment. If he was going to use lethal means, then he needed to be more certain. As he continued to catch his breath, he realized he was going to need to find a different approach.

  After twenty seconds had passed, Decarius chanced a look around he tree. He could see that Tansley's progress was what he would have expected. The tradesman hadn't heard him, or if he had, hadn't felt alarmed enough to break into a run. Perhaps the fact he was getting close to the turning to the town had given Tansley some sense of security. If so, he was probably right, any assault on him now would be far more risky, with many potential witnesses. He would need to follow him instead and see where he went.

  21

  It was a childhood memory, he would have been about nine or ten, and before him, the dense web of a large spider. In would go the lure, found hiding beneath a nearby rock; a beetle, a woodlouse, it didn't matter what, and the spider would emerge. A swift blur of limbs, leaping onto its prey and binding it tightly.

  Only, it didn't always work like that, sometimes the prey seemed to know. Some base instinct telling it that the trick was not to move but to remain completely still. Still, that is, until some prodding with a stick complicated its primitive survival strategy.

  Why had this memory come to the fore? Gregario didn't know. Maybe his mind hadn't been sabotaging his attempts to think after all, but searching for an experience from which to draw inspiration. Perhaps it was a measure of his predicament, that being cruel to an unfortunately woodlouse, was what the deepest recesses of his mind had come up with. He didn't know what disturbed him more; the choice of memory, that the memory existed or that it had worked.

  He lay completely still, he was safe while he didn't move. He took a few deep breaths and composed himself.

  "Are you making progress?" Aegis called along the tunnel.

  "I'm working on it," his voice sounded stronger than he felt. He drew some comfort from it all the same. With his body cooperating once again, he turned his mind to the problem at hand.

  He tried to understand why the end of the tunnel seemed impossible to open. Could this be a way out only? A bolt hole. Allowing Tansley to escape but leaving him needing to re-enter his hut by the normal way, when whatever danger that had prompted him to make an emergency exit had passed. That was worryingly possible.

  Gregario could never use a route that worked like that. What if the trapdoor at the other end had become blocked by a fallen branch, or heavy rain had ca
used a partial collapse of the tunnel. The obstruction would not be visible until the moment it was encountered, and by then, the occupant would be caught like a rat in a trap.

  There would have to be a way back in, he was sure of it.

  The fear which had paralyzed him was now heightening his senses and sharpening his mind. The merchants here were wily, if Tansley was clever enough to have an escape route beneath his hut, he would be equally shrewd to make sure it didn't become his grave. There had to be a way in.

  Gregario tried the hatch again, he was sure it had to open outwards, so pushed against it a few times. There, he heard it, a metallic rattle and felt the door give a little at one side. It was held shut by a bolt or a catch. How could the man have bolted it behind him? Could there be someone else in the hut? If so, might they have closed it after Tansley had left?

  It seemed unlikely, since it meant one person leaving and not the other. Maybe the tradesman had left with the gauntlets, while someone stayed in case the hut was broken into. That seemed plausible and he would keep it in mind. Yet he was still sure the hatch would be operable from the tunnel, due to the risk of getting trapped.

  He tried to imagine what it might look like from the other side. He pictured a latch, attached to some wire, fed around the frame of the door into the tunnel. That might be a workable arrangement and it would be very hard to find unless you knew it was there.

  Feeling a sense of optimism, Gregario started searching around the frame of the door, but found nothing that could conceivably activate a door latch. He moved his search to the sides and top of the tunnel. There were some wooden posts about two feet back from the frame, they were supporting a beam and holding up the roof of the tunnel. He ran his fingers around the posts but couldn't find anything there either.

  The sense of foreboding began to return, so far he had only needed to move his arms but it looked like he might have to move further along. Even the slightest movement caused some dirt to fall, triggering the prospect of being buried alive with each dusting he received.