The Hekamon Page 8

  He calmed himself again.

  Was there anything between the door frame and the first support beam? Patting down the walls, told him there was. Another wooden post but this one set into the compacted earth that formed the wall of the tunnel. This one was only a foot high and seemed to serve no purpose. It didn't support the roof and there was no obvious reason why it should be there.

  He ran his hand over it, the surface felt smooth but was not completely so, there was a hole. Pushing his finger inside he felt a wire, taut and cold to the touch, he applied some pressure and felt it give. In front of him there was a click and he pushed the door with his head and it opened effortlessly. He took a deep breath and wanted to laugh manically, but made do with a less satisfyingly wry smile.

  Gregario crawled through the hatchway, onto a stone floor and stood. He was in.

  The room was dark but some light entered through cracks in the wooden clapboard walls, and from around two doors, the outline of which he could just make out.

  The gap under one door was large and the draft that came through suggested it lead outside. He tried the handle, it was sturdy and it was locked. He felt for a key in the lock but there was none.

  He tried the other door and it opened. It lead into another dark room which was partially illuminated by some light that found its way down from upstairs. With the door open, there was sufficient light for Gregario to see that the room he was standing in was a woodshed.

  Standing quietly in the doorway, he listened for any sounds but heard none. The trading post was empty, and he could now see why the merchant had a locking mechanism in his escape route. Once you were in the woodshed, you were in the house.

  Just then and from behind him, he heard a click, as the small hatch that gave access to the tunnel closed. He walked over and examined it.

  When closed, the hatch it blended well with the wall that it was built into. Gregario operated the latch and saw that the small door was angled, so as to swing shut under its own weight. Crouching down, he opened the hatch wider and looked along the tunnel. By the light at the other end, he could see Aegis's legs. His cohort was still standing at the far end of the tunnel and holding the trapdoor open.

  "I'm in," he called.

  Gregario watched, as the light at the end of the tunnel dimmed and went out, as the trapdoor closed.

  22

  Moving away from the muddy stream and on to the top of the embankment, Alyssa started looking for the trapdoor. It proved much easier to find this time and not only because of the daylight. The door was not so well concealed. Had she and her brother left it like that? She didn't think so, but it was hard to be sure how it had looked in the darkness.

  Reaching down, Alyssa took hold of the handle and held it, feeling the cold metal ring in her hand. She hesitated. It wasn't that she had a bad feeling, she had no feeling.

  Alyssa was used to things that were alive, things that had lived, or at the very least had been imbued with life. Wood, leather and a multitude of fibers from plants and animals. The heavy, rusty, iron ring felt unnatural and inert. She could glean nothing from it, there was no hint of what lay beneath. Its base metal had not been crafted with love like her necklace had been.

  Her necklace. It was made from no ordinary metal and was no ordinary piece of jewelry. It even had a name. It was called the Ettinshel and it was beyond this forbidding barrier.

  The thought restored Alyssa's determination and she started to lift the heavy trapdoor, before positioning herself on the edge of the hole. The silent, darkness of the tunnel gave her a sense of foreboding, even more so now she was alone.

  She took a few deep breaths and found the courage to climb inside, before allowing the door to close above her. Crouching and turning, Alyssa started crawling along, patting the earth in front of her and feeling along the width of the tunnel as she went.

  Every time her hand swept the damp earth, she awaited the touch of the necklace on her finger tips. With each movement, her expectations rose and she anticipated how it would feel.

  When it was on her person it was as warm as she was, now it would be lying cold and lifeless but that would all change in the blink of an eye. It would come to life in the instant it returned to her and that was about to happen at any moment.

  Working her way along the tunnel, a feeling of pessimism gradually started to take hold, the feeling grew stronger, until she eventually reached the wooden hatch at the far end. It isn't here.

  Alyssa remained still, as the realization slowly began to dawn on her. She had not expected her search to bring her this far, yet here she was, and now she was going to have to alert the merchant.

  Should she bang on the hatch? Enter his hut alone? She didn't want to.

  Although she had only met the man briefly, she didn't trust him. The man had run his fingers through her hair, it was the first thing he had done on seeing her. She had accepted the momentary and minor discomfort as a useful warning. Should she heed that warning now? If the merchant had found her necklace, would he even tell her? The man might deny any knowledge of it and keep it for himself. It was very valuable and obviously so. It would be a considerable test of his honesty.

  Alyssa sank down and rested her head in the crook of her elbow.

  For the first time, a thought occurred to her, it may be lost forever.

  With that thought, the memory of her mother came into her mind, the strongest memory she had of her. It was the moment she had first been entrusted with the Ettinshel. It had been so revered, so powerful, that when her mother placed it in her hands, she knew the situation was serious.

  It was the last time she saw her. 'Keep it safe for my return,' her mother's final words to her. Alyssa lay in the dark tunnel. Numb and exhausted, neither able, or wanting to move.

  Vivid dreams started to take over her mind.

  From the darkness of the earth around her, she saw two eyes, emerald green and flecked with gold, looking back at her. The image should have frightened her, but it calmed her. The kindly, nurturing eyes were watching over her, protecting her.

  That was not all she could see, there was something else in the darkness. Shapes and more pairs of eyes, burning with a fiery intent. She looked at them and they at her, as her dream-state deepened.

  Chapter 4

  23

  The Ochre Way was quiet and understandably so.

  A few steps off the safe path and an unwary traveler could quickly find themselves knee deep in a clinging, muddy swamp. The greater their panic to step out of it, the faster they would be drawn in. Waist deep in seconds, then chest deep. Those who became frozen by their fear would last a little longer than those whose struggles intensified, but only a little longer. A suffocating death would follow.

  Kormak cautiously picked is way along the path, he wasn't surprised to see that he was the only one doing so. Very few people ventured onto the paths that ran through the marshes. Only Fennreans were sufficiently knowledgeable of the safe routes, but as he neared Ochre Hill, his journey became a little easier.

  The early morning fog that had settled on the marshes was starting to lift. Despite the thinning fog, the wisps that still remained swirled around his feet, as bubbles of gas popped from the waters all around.

  This became less frequent as he neared his destination. The higher ground was replenished with water, not from the river, but from the rain that slowly seeped off the hill. The water here was fresher, the soil healthier and home to some edible plants, like flote grasse, saxifrage and fennel. The latter a herb they traded so often, their land had become synonymous with it to outsiders.

  Whilst in certain areas of Fennelbek, Kormak walked with diligence, here he was on much more familiar ground and strode with more confidence. This part of the trail he used daily, and it was already rising higher than the surrounding marsh as he neared the gate.

  Approaching the entrance to Ochre Hill he was met by a familiar face, Palfrey, his closest friend, who greeted him warmly.

  "K
ormak, you made it back safely. How did it go?" Palfrey said, giving him a welcoming hug.

  "Good. I bought something expensive," he said holding up the bag, "but worth it I think."

  His friend eyed the bag warily, "I thought you were getting us equipped, swords, shields, helmets the works." Palfrey said, looking at the leather bag and trying to guess at its contents.

  "The herbs wouldn't stretch that far, not unless it was rusty junk, then I saw these iron grippers, well Alyssa found them, and I knew they were what we needed."

  "Iron grippers? Well, I trust your judgment—" Palfrey broke off and looked around. "Where is Alyssa?" A hint of worry in his voice.

  "She lost her necklace and stayed to look for it," he said casually, "come on let's get back home, I've been up all night," walking nonchalantly towards the gate. Palfrey waited for a moment, seemingly not sure if he'd heard right.

  Kormak reached the gate, where Deorwine was on duty.

  "Busy night Kormak? Something to show for it I hope?" The man said, opening the gate and spotting the ornately embroidered bag he was carrying.

  "Not bad," he replied noncommittally, wanting to keep this among his friends for now.

  "Nice leather work there I see, must contain something a bit special," Deorwine said, raising his voice as he and Palfrey continued past him and onto the hill.

  Kormak half-turned, and smiled coyly, but said nothing. He expected the old ferguth would be along later to see what he'd got. It wasn't everyday something was brought in from up near the pass. As he continued along the lower tier of the hill, he felt Palfrey move closer until their shoulders were touching.

  "What do you mean, she stayed behind?" his friend half-whispered, half-seethed.

  Kormak stopped. "She thinks it's on the ground somewhere, so she's retracing her steps back to see if she can find it," he said, before moving on again.

  Palfrey grabbed him before he could take another step, "And you didn't stay and help her?"

  "It was getting light," he said, touching his tattoo, "and I offered to come back with her later to look," he raised the bag and his voice, "and I wanted to get these back here. Satisfied?"

  "Not really, no. Where did you last see her?"

  "At the bridge. She'll search for a while and then come home. I'll get some rest first, then we'll go back and look again," he said wearily, before walking off again.

  "Assuming she doesn't find it you mean," Palfrey called after him.

  "Of course. If she finds it, then all's well."

  24

  The woodshed that backed onto Tansley's hut was like many of those found in the foothills of the mountains. The cold winter weather meant the stoves and hearths needed a constant supply of dry, seasoned wood. Easy access to the shed was essential, especially during snowstorms, and the door from the shed lead directly into the back room of the trading post.

  Gregario and Aegis left the woodshed and entered the store room. Gregario may have been familiar with Tansley's appearance and the fact that he'd left the building, but he knew nothing else about him. Was he married? Did he have a son? A lodger?

  He was old enough to have an adult son, but generally speaking, the merchants here lived much like the trappers and woodsmen who lifestyle they mirrored. Theirs was a solitary existence, and a search of the trade hut seemed to confirm that to be true of Tansley.

  The few items of clothing, kitchenware and furniture suggested the man lived alone. There was hardly anything to speak of, and his personal possessions were vastly outnumber by the goods he sold.

  A search of every room showed the hut was empty. A half eaten sandwich and the burning stove confirming what they'd already suspected, Tansley had been alone and had left in a hurry. Their attention now turned to the goods in the store.

  Under normal circumstances, Gregario would have thought a pair of distinctive gauntlets, in an equally distinctive leather bag, would be easy to spot. And in most houses it would be. Here though, it was floor to ceiling leather, bronze and steel. Just about every item a well stock armory would have. Only, an armory that had be sealed up for twenty years. Everything here was bewailing wars vintage, more valuable as antiques than practicable tools for military use or personal defense.

  "See if you can see the bag, do you remember what it looks like?" he said to Aegis, as they stopped looking for occupants and began scouring the shelves and boxes.

  "Yes, I remember, but how do we know they are in the bag?"

  Gregario hesitated, "Good question, bag or gauntlets, keep an eye out for both."

  "It's just that when the alarm was raised, I was told the gauntlets had been stolen from the vault, maybe you know more," Aegis offered, rummaging through a box of leather gloves, which looked a good place to start.

  "No, you're right, that's what I was told, too. I just assumed, that's all. They are kept in the bag the whole time and would be easier to carry that way—" he trailed off.

  "You're right," Aegis said, "that's good thinking."

  After several minutes of searching revealed no sign of them, Gregario moved through a curtained doorway and into the front of the store.

  This side he could see contained much more mundane fare. Items useful to those traveling, but that did include clothing, boots, coats, hats and gloves, along with blankets and the like. Along another wall, he could see walking sticks and staffs, and bags of various sizes and styles. Could the tradesman have placed The Eagle Standard here? It was worth a look.

  So he began with the shelves of worn leather bags. He might have expected the embroidered eagle with silver talons would stand out from the rest of the wares, assuming it was here, but the closed wooden blinds meant the light he was searching by was dim. He was feeling his way around, moving and carefully replacing things as he went. Duffel bags, satchels, backpacks, holdalls, everything except what he was looking for.

  Gregario reasoned, that if they didn't find it soon, he would either have to open the blinds or light a lamp. He would rather not, but he might have no choice. Just then, Aegis called from the next room.

  "Look what I've found." Aegis said, walking through the curtain.

  "You have them?" Gregario asked expectantly, but saw that Aegis didn't have them, and was holding dagger instead, "What's that?"

  "Don't you recognize it?"

  "Should I?"

  "It belonged to Hayden, its his dagger."

  "Are you sure?" Gregario went over and examined it in the better light.

  It seemed ordinary, neither valuable or distinctive. The pommel engraved with a sickle, its only notable feature. Still, he knew Aegis had spent some time with Hayden, so it was possible the boy was right, and he felt no reason to question Aegis' judgment.

  "So we know he came this way and stopped by this trading post," he said. "So let's keep looking."

  Aegis nodded in agreement, "Maybe we're on the right track after all."

  25

  Ochre Hill was a multi-tiered terrace. It wasn't natural, but instead had grown from a series of modifications constructed over a number of years, gradually adding to the defensive capabilities of the town that sat atop the hill.

  Initially, the terracing had been shaped to make the hillside more farm-able and easier to build on, rather than for anything defensive.

  The town only ever had minimal protection, even during times of conflict. It had been thought the surround marsh would function like a extensive and impassable moat for any invading militia. But when Coralai started blocking and rerouting the mountain streams, with the intention of drying out the marsh, Fennelbek's main settlement had needed some additional defensive capabilities. Hence the fortified earthen banks and palisade walls that now circled the fortress.

  When first occupied, all of the population had lived on the highest and most agreeable level. High above the mists that could form here. Aloft the smell of decay and marsh gas that could settle at ground level for days on end. Especially during calm, humid summers.

  The end of the bewaili
ng wars brought some changes, though. Those deemed most suitable for the lower levels, or unsuitable for the top, were moved down. Hardy, earthy, robust of body and mind where encouraged, or more commonly ordered, to a level most suited to their station.

  Kormak and his extended family were united by one thing. It wasn't that they were all related to each other, because for the most part, that wasn't the case. It was because they were all deemed suitable to live on the lowest tier.

  The only consolation being it was on the south side of the hill. At least, it was suggested to him that being on the south facing side was a good thing, he wasn't so sure. The sun didn't make it above the mountains during the shortest days of winter and it most certainly did on the hottest days of summer. The heat, the stench, the flies.

  At least spring and autumn were pleasant enough. Maybe that was the consolation.

  He and Palfrey reached the shack he shared with his sister and the other three members of the Egret Patrol. He went inside but nobody was home.

  He guessed Loccsleah was with Saskia on the next tier up, spinning flax or weaving garments. While Tolle and Moxley were likely stationed at their usual haunt, Egret Stockade. He had considered stopping by the stockade on the way back, but knew the question of Alyssa's absence would crop up, so decided to give her time to get back first, that was his intention anyway.

  He dropped the bag down and almost collapsed to the ground, his fatigue suddenly hitting him. It was this time yesterday they'd set off. The actual distance could have been covered in far less time but a combination of the darkness, woods, marsh, and the hills, along with need to move cautiously had taken time.

  "You know, that necklace of hers, it means the world to her," Palfrey said, sitting next to him.

  He didn't reply. Instead he closed his eyes and used the soft leather bag as a pillow.

  "She's very protective of it, if she's lost it she will be heartbroken."