The Hekamon Page 9

  "It isn't lost, it's just waiting to be found. I'll get it back for her, don't worry," he said reassuringly, "If she doesn't find it herself," he added quickly.

  Kormak could tell Palfrey was staring at him but he didn't return the look. After a pause Palfrey spoke again, "Let's see them then."

  "See what?" He couldn't resist smiling that attention had turned to his acquisition.

  "You know what," Palfrey said quietly, Alyssa seemingly still on his mind.

  Kormak sat up and pulled the bag to him. He opened the it and took out the grippers. Palfrey's interest grew markedly when he saw them, "Whoa," His eyes widening "They're better than any armor I've seen before. Can I try them on?"

  "No," Kormak said, more emphatically that he intended.

  "Why not? I helped to collect those herbs and refine them."

  "You can try them later, just not right now. You can hold them if you want."

  That seemed to satisfy Palfrey and he took one of the grippers, turning it over in his hands. "They're lighter than I expected," Palfrey observed.

  Kormak took the opportunity to examine the other gripper by the better light. The trading post had been dimly lit but the grippers had shone even there. By the daylight now streaming through the doorway of the shack, they positively sparkled.

  As he looked at them more closely, he could see the pattern etched into the metal carapace was most likely a form of writing. Nothing he could understand, nor was it in a style he was familiar with. Nevertheless, he marveled at the skill of the engraver, the craftsmanship immediately apparent.

  The rest of the grippers were equally impressive, they were presumably made of leather and iron yet looked and felt like they were made of silver and silk. They had a curious quality of seeming to be ornate and ceremonial while being the toughest, hardest wearing and practical of pieces he could have imagined.

  "Can I try it on?" Palfrey asked again.

  "No," Kormak said, taking it from him, "maybe later."

  Kormak was about to put them back in the bag when Fennelbek's most skilled herbswoman, Saskia, walked in. She was followed by Loccsleah, her young companion.

  Saskia had been like a mother to he and Alyssa since her arrival in Fennelbek ten years earlier. Her warm smile, jet black hair and eyes, a familiar sight to him.

  "Kormak, it's good to see you back safely. We were told you had returned."

  Kormak smiled, news traveled quickly here, "I'm back and I bear gifts," he said theatrically, holding the iron grippers for Saskia to see, "well, for me, that is, for us. They belong to all of us, but I will wear them."

  Saskia stepped into the room and knelt to get a closer look. Glancing quizzically from Kormak to the grippers and back again, "These look…expensive. What did you pay for them, not one pouch surely?"

  "Well I owe the trader some more."

  "How much more."

  "The price was worth it."

  "What was the price?" Palfrey interrupted.

  "Well—" Kormak didn't want to say. "Let's see, some more empessence and some extra pouches."

  "How many extra?" Palfrey asked insistently, while Saskia had been joined by Loccsleah examining the grippers.

  "Two or three," or four. It was very close to what he might be able to turn the trade into after seeing Tansley again, so not a complete lie.

  "Which is it," Tolle insisted "Two or three?"

  "Three, plus I might give him more for his trouble, since he let me take them now."

  "Yes, that was trusting of him," Saskia said, looking at him suspiciously. "Most traders wouldn't."

  "It was my negotiating, I guess."

  Palfrey looked unimpressed, "For that I would have expected eight or ten pieces of armor or armament. Worn and rusty yes, but better than one fancy piece. We're trying to form a unit to patrol the southern marshes and earn the respect of the Ochre leaders. You've squandering it on just one pair of grippers for yourself, it's set us back three or four months at least."

  Saskia handed one of the gloves to Loccsleah to to look at. "They're like jewelry." Loccsleah admired, beginning to place it on her hand.

  Kormak snatched it off her before she could. "This is serious military equipment. Not a costume."

  The three of them looked at him in silence as he put them back into the bag and fastened it shut. He had to concede, Palfrey had a point. One pair of iron grippers didn't equate to being taken seriously as a patrol.

  "Well they are certainly of the highest quality, so there is that," Saskia said, taking a conciliatory tone, "I think they are worth what you paid for them, maybe more, in my opinion. And there is always the option of selling them on, should you want to. You'll recover your investment and more besides."

  "Well I won't be doing that. They're just what we're looking for. We need more of the same or we'll always be on the lowest tier." Kormak replied becoming agitated.

  Saskia rested her arm on his reassuringly. "Kormak You did well, but you're tired, Alyssa too, I expect—" She looked around suddenly aware of Alyssa's absence.

  Palfrey broke the silence, "He left Alyssa south of the river, she lost her necklace and she's still there looking for it."

  Saskia turned to Kormak, he saw her expression, closed his eyes and rested his head back on the leather bag again.

  "Please tell me you didn't come home without your sister," her tone incredulous.

  "She wouldn't come back with me, I couldn't force her."

  "You should've stayed with her, she's not safe on her own," Saskia said accusingly.

  "She is capable of looking after herself, she's not a child," Kormak now raised himself up on his elbows daring Saskia to contradict him.

  The herbswoman often talked admiringly of Alyssa's capabilities and how she was as good as any of the boys. Even at typical boyish pursuits like hunting, climbing and yes, fighting, when she needed to.

  "It was wrong of you to leave her," Saskia said, standing up, "she wouldn't have left you."

  Kormak grimaced and looked away. She was right about that and it pained him to admit it.

  Saskia turned to leave, then stopped, thinking for a moment before turning to him, "Her necklace, it's all that she has of her mother. Not only that it's…well…you wouldn't understand, its more than valuable, she won't come back until she finds it," Saskia studied him carefully. "She will find it, won't she?"

  Loccsleah and Palfrey looked at him too. He could tell from their accusing stares that they were beginning to work out all might not be as it seemed.

  He climbed to his feet.

  "I'll go to the Rhavenbrook Bridge and wait there, if she's not back by sunset, I'll go and look for her and bring her back safely."

  "And her necklace?"

  "We'll find it eventually," he said, holding Saskia's stare. She acknowledge his reply and turned to leave.

  Palfrey stood and walked over, "I'll come with you."

  "Me too," Loccsleah added.

  "We'll stop by at Egret and get Tolle and Moxley, too." Kormak said, and the others nodded in agreement. He picked up the bag containing the grippers and they set off, out of Ochre Hill and into the marshes.

  26

  After a further few minutes searching, Gregario opened one of the window blinds. Peering out through the gap, he could see the road was empty and none of the other trading posts were close enough to observe. There would be no reason to think it wasn't Tansley anyway, the man's exit had been secretive. Despite opening the slats only very slightly, the effect was to illuminate the room considerably. Just as he was about to make use of the better light and return to the search, he was interrupted by a noise from the other room.

  He stopped and listened, he heard an unusual sound, like something falling or being dropped. Had Aegis knocked something over? He heard rustling and then the hushed and alarmed voice of Aegis.

  "Fennreans."

  Slowly raising himself, Gregario walked tentatively towards the curtain that separated the front and back rooms of the hut. Pee
ring through, he stopped and surveyed the room, there was no sign of Aegis. Could he have gone upstairs?

  "Aegis?" he called out.

  "Yes?" Aegis said, suddenly standing up from behind a counter, startling him in the process.

  "Don't do that." he said, flinching at his young companions sudden appearance next to him.

  "I'm sorry," Aegis said, placing a fur bag on the counter as he did so, "but I found this."

  "Where was it?" he asked, his interest aroused.

  "It was hidden under the floor. When I felt the lose tile, I thought we might be in luck, but its only Fennrean balms and ointments," Aegis said, opening the rabbit skin pouch and revealing several small clay vials.

  Gregario moved around the counter and examined the secret compartment in the floor, but saw it was too small for anything much bigger than the pouch on the counter. It was probably where Tansley hid his purse or moneybag for safe keeping. Nothing of any real size would fit there.

  He then turned his attention to the contents of the small gray bag. The writing inscribed into the clay of the vials was a clue to their origin but the odor was a dead giveaway. He agreed with Aegis's assessment.

  "He's been dealing with Fennreans, that's for sure," he said, placing the vial he was inspecting back in the pouch, rolling it up and placing it inside his tunic. He knew these balms, ointments and essences could be valuable. Some with medicinal purposes some, supposedly, aided in conversing with the spirits. Highly in demand in certain quarters.

  Aegis watched him pocket the fur bag, "So far we've broken in and stolen something, yet we're no closer to finding what we're looking for." The young man said, looking at him disapprovingly.

  "Let's search upstairs," he said, heading into the hall, but he was beginning to suspect Tansley had gone and taken the Eagle Standard with him. If so, the onus was going to be on Decarius to recover it.

  27

  The Regis Highway swept down through the hills, with tree lined banks either side. The golden leaves remaining on the higher branches above Decarius, catching the midday sunlight. Scattered about his feet, the fallen ones, yellow and burnt orange, rustling under each step he took.

  The man he was following had traveled far enough along the road that he too was out of the shadow of the mountains. The white sack he carried, distinctive against his blue jacket and highlighted by the sun, bouncing with each step, like the buff tail of a scampering rabbit.

  Decarius had allowed the man to gain some distance again. And while the shaded woods were providing good concealment for now, within moments he too would be bathed in sunlight and far more visible, should the tradesman look back.

  He slowed down even more, giving the man enough space. He was almost certainly heading to Tivitay Village and it was unnecessary to be so close to him. The straight row of shops and houses that made up the village would make it easy to see which building was Tansley's destination. Once that had been established, he could plan his next move.

  Then, at the Burntoak crossroads, Tansley turned left.

  With the sudden change of tack, Decarius found himself on the wrong side of the highway. Not only that, the highway was busier with pedestrians, too.

  Ten or twelve people were making their way along the road between the village, the town and the workshops of Serfacre that lay in between. While it wouldn't be a problem to be seen by any of these people, Decarius knew that his furtive behavior might draw attention more than anything. At least he couldn't see any guards. From what he knew of their movements, they remained in and around the fort and the town, but his experience here was limited.

  He was reluctant to simply walk out of the forest and into plain sight, in a manner that might draw suspicious glances, so he waited for a moment of calm. Once the way was clear, he darted out and across the road, before rounding the corner and onto the Demedelei Road. His desire to stay hidden had slowed him down and Tansley was even further away now.

  Looking ahead he could see his man, one hundred yards away. While several hundred yards further on, the road climbed up to the gatehouse of the Demedelei Fort. The fort itself was clearly visible, standing high on a rocky hill overlooking the area.

  He tried to work out where the merchant was heading. If it was to the town why not take the earlier turning? Was it possible he was going to the fort? He had assumed the point of the trading posts was that they operated outside the jurisdiction of Lord Jephson. They lay east of the Regis Highway, the border line of Demedelei territory, and did so for that very reason. Were there arrangements that he didn't know about?

  If the gauntlets where taken to the fort, their extraction would become impossible and their permanent loss would ruin everything. To lose the Eagle Standard was one thing but to have it fall into the hands of Jephson and his ilk would be a scandal. It must not reach the fort.

  His heart pounding, Decarius began to close the distance between himself and the tradesman ahead. Moving quickly now, he saw there were four people between himself and Tansley, he positioned himself so they gave him some cover should the man look back.

  Walking briskly, he passed one, then two of those ahead. He would be less obscured should Tansley have his wit's about him but this was becoming less of a consideration. If the merchant was indeed going to the fort, then he would have to close in and intercept him anyway. But how? Robbing him in front of witnesses, and in view of the manned gatehouse, was surely out of the question.

  Should he stop him and ask him what was in his bag? It was such an implausibly simple solution. He had planned to buy the gauntlets from merchant anyway, enabling the smooth the transition of the Standard into his possession with minimum fuss, and only modest expense.

  The problem was that he now suspected Tansley knew their true worth. Some very old armor would be cheap to buy, the Plautius Gauntlets were priceless. If he approached Tansley, and the man refused to co-operate and shouted for guards, the situation would become difficult. His own identity might be discovered.

  What would they make of an undercover militiaman? One operating secretly in Demedelei, and the most senior militiaman at that. He would spend time in the fort's prison without doubt, even if it was only to be interrogated, hardly a minor inconvenience. The captain of the guard here had a reputation that went before him. Decarius needed to ensure his own fate was not to end up in the fort, every bit as much as the gauntlets.

  If he did, the news would reach Coralai of his capture. It would be connected to the similar loss of the Eagle Standard. Not only his failure to recover it, but suffering a humiliating arrest in the process. The saceress would be sure to place the ignominious defeat at his door. He had no choice, he had to prevent Tansley reaching the fort, no matter the cost.

  Realizing this might be his last chance to do so, he started to move faster and was now less than fifty yards away, with just one traveler between them.

  Sweat was pouring from him, his options seemed to be diminishing, he was going to have to strike after all. He thought the last second change of plan on the highway earlier had been a blessing but it had been a curse. He faced all of the complications that attacking the tradesman would cause, only this time with the certainty of being seen, and maybe by guards, too. Decarius committed himself to the task, it had to be done, he would make the best of a bad situation.

  Just then Tansley turned.

  Not to look back, but to step off the road and into a street that lead off it. Decarius found himself almost unbalanced by the merchant's sudden change of direction. Staggering for a few steps, and drawing a quizzical look from the last pedestrian he was walking by, he returned a manic grin. It took all his willpower not to laugh with relief before his composure quickly returned.

  If not the fort, where?

  The area Tansley had gone into was still mostly hidden by bushes that lined the road but the smoke and sounds rising above revealed his destination, Serfacre.

  Decarius slowed and took a few deep breathes, this made more sense. The merchant would proba
bly have an acquaintance among the workshop owners, a way in to the legitimate trade among the Demedelites. A better class of buyer would most likely be found here, and a better price could be attained for the more finely crafted armor that came into his possession.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Decarius composed himself once more but he couldn't relax yet. Tansley would be heading for a workshop, the question now, which one?

  Chapter 5

  28

  The pick embedded a few inches into the coal face, and, with a little leverage, Galvyn plied some of the coal away. The precious earth crumbled to the ground around his feet, in a small and scarcely noticeable rockfall. Satisfied he had enough, Galvyn then swapped the pick for a shovel, scooped up the lumps and started to fill a large coal tub.

  It was dark in the mine but not pitch black, some light trickled in from the side of the seam and the entrances that connected the mine to the old moat road. It helped a little, but the obstructing mass of wooden pillars, beams, ladders and the tangled ropes that held it all together, meant he was mostly working by the shaft of light that came down from above.

  The light poured in from a trapdoor in the floor of Croneygee's workshop. Galvyn could have used a lamp for some extra illumination if he wanted, but the added risks of a naked flame among the coal dust wasn't worth it, besides, he could see well enough.

  Next to him was the large coal tub he'd filled. It was attached to a chain that hung down from a pulley forty feet above. The pulley itself was fixed to a main beam of the workshop. The tub's wheels and axles had been removed to reduce its weight. They were no longer needed. It only traveled vertically now.

  With the tub filled and ready for raising, Galvyn climbed, firstly the rickety wooden stairs that rose up to a gantry above, then onto the ladder that lead through the trapdoor into the coal bunker. Once inside it was just a matter of turning the winch, feeding the rope through the pulley and up, until the tub full of coal hung inside the bunker, ready for discharging.

  With a second rope, Galvyn pulled the tub to one side, activated a lever and emptied the coal onto the floor, from where it could be shoveled onto the growing pile. He'd had made a dozen such trips this morning and this would be his last. The amount he'd mined would suffice for a few weeks.