The Hekamon (31 page)

"We'll wait here and trust Alyssa to be sensible in
how she's searching. Hopefully she'll keep well out of trouble and
come back before long. If she's not back by sundown, we'll go looking
for her using the cover of darkness."

The rest of the patrol accepted this decision and began
making plans for how they would wait.

"Can I take the crow's nest?" Kormak asked, "I
haven't slept since yesterday and find it easier to rest there."

"Yes, you and Palfrey go to the crow's nest, the
twins and I will go to the den," Tolle said, as the group split
into two.

Kormak and Palfrey moved off the path and toward a large
ash tree that stood sentinel at the fork in the road where the
Fennelbek Way and Ochre Way met. Behind the tree, and nailed to its
bark, was a ladder.

Kormak could never decide whether the ladder had been
skillfully camouflaged to blend with the tree, or had just become
rotten and rickety over the years, like everything else in Fennelbek.

Palfrey climbed the ladder, and Kormak followed him up. He knew that
one day a rung would break, but not today it seemed. Not on the way
up anyway, as he and Palfrey reached the top.

The crow's nest was a small ramshackle tree-house fifty
feet off the ground. It was constructed in a natural confluence of
some large branches and made use of some lashed together logs and
timbers to create a hide. The tree it resided in was one of the few
still living. The river bank rose higher here and was less prone to
crumbling away than elsewhere.

The nest gave a good view of the road junction below and
the bridge. It also gave a clear sight along all three roads as they
converged, with the gaps in the sides of the structure making for
useful spy holes to observe passing travelers. From this vantage
point, Kormak could see the other three ferguths climbing into the
den.

The fox's den was a hollow in the bank of the river, a
dozen yards east of the bridge just off the Ochre Way. It had more
likely started out as an abandoned badgers set, in the Fennelbek's
pre-wetland days, before being enlarged and strengthened with wooden
posts and beams. It made for an effective ambush point and could
house ten or more for a short time.

It wasn't that big though. Kormak
wouldn't want to share the space with more than two or three people
for very long. The walls had been covered in clay to waterproof it,
but it still got damp in there. It sat above the water level, but only
just. It was accessible from a sod covered hatchway, which he could
see Tolle closing behind him, as he and the twins disappeared below
ground.

The trio inside might be out of view, but Kormak knew
that they could see out perfectly well. The river-facing side of the
den was open and gave a clear view of the bridge and far river bank.
The occupants inside were well hidden by the reeds and bracken that
grew in the shallows and margins of the river.

Seeing everyone was in position, Kormak started to make
himself comfortable. There were some old and worn blankets kept in a
corner, they were for night watches but he made use of them now.
Laying on, rather than under them, cushioning himself from the
uncomfortable timber floor.

"Wake me if you see anything," he said to
Palfrey, curling up himself up into a ball, both for warmth and out
of necessity, since the tree-house measured less than six feet
square.

"Will do," his friend replied, leaning into
the corner that gave the clearest view of the bridge.

Resting his head on his arm Kormak, managed to get
comfortable enough to sleep.

His tiredness crept up on him. The swaying of the tree
in the gentle breeze and tranquil sounds of the marshes brought his
mind to a sleeping state quickly.

As he drifted off, Kormak thought
he heard the sound of a falling tree, but the image that came to mind
was of something else. Not something crashing down, dead and
defeated, but rising up. Not falling into the earth but emerging from
it. A staff of wood, or something like it, driven out of the ground
and skywards, by a hand clad in leather and steel.

Tregarron and Teague emerged from the forest and onto
the highway, several hundred yards down from where the trading posts
were located. From there, they continued down to the Burntoak
crossroads, before turning left, and then right into Serfacre.

Tregarron lead the way through the narrow streets toward
Croneygee's place. Most of the side streets were just compacted earth
and coal dust, held together with a few cobblestones. While
the main streets were paved with hard wearing flagstones, mined from
inside the foothills, or maybe even the mountains themselves.

Moving through the streets, Tregarron could see the whole area
was a hive of activity, and he found himself having to make some evasive
maneuvers around the apprentices and workmen heaving sacks of coal and pulling
carts. While around him the workshops whirred with noise and
industry.

The foundries and forges here produced a variety of
metal equipment. Plowshares, scythes, spades, chains, nails,
horseshoes, axes, hammers, a thousand different things it was
claimed. Tregarron could well believe it, but he much preferred it
when they focused on the only product that really mattered,
weapons. The one that protected all of the others.

He was now heading to the workshop of one of Serfacre's
finest weaponsmiths, even if he had now turned his hand towards
making armor.

Striding up to the door in the south east corner of the
armory, Tregarron immediately had his suspicions. On dry and calm
days like this one, he would normally expect to see the door of the
armory wedged open, just like with most of the workshops.

The owners did so, not only to make them more welcoming
to passing customers, but to keep the building cool. Many had hearths
and furnaces burning all day long, and in some cases, all night long,
too.

It was common practice for the craftsmen to work in the front of
the shop, while keeping stock in the back. Forging new items, while
manning the store and selling their wares at the same time.
Croneygee's was no exception, and when he'd stopped by the armory earlier, the door had been open but now it was closed.

He walked up to the door and banged on it but didn't
wait for a reply, instead he started walking around the side of the
building, while signaling to Teague to remain at the front.

From what
he could see through the window, the workshop was empty, so he began
circling the building. There were no other doors and only a small
window at the rear, too dirty to see through. He continued around and
returned to the front door again.

"Anything?" Teague asked him.

He shook his head and banged on the door again, before
looking through the window once more. His view into the building was
not particularly obscured, apart from some bars that he could easily
look past when this close. There was no sign of disturbance and
nothing seemed out of place, except for a hammer, resting
incongruously against a wall.

It was not working hammer but a long
handled military one and it had not been there when he had spoken
with the apprentice earlier. Had it been, he would have tripped over
it.

Tregarron turned and looked at the nearby workshops. The
owner of the neighboring building was working some metal and looked
away quickly when their eyes met. That was all he needed. He walked
across the side street that separated the two buildings and into
Turner's workshop.

"What have you seen?" He asked the man
abruptly.

"I ain't seen Croneygee if that's who yow'r lookin
for, not since this morning," Turner said.

The man was long establish in Serfacre and Tregarron
knew that his accent was unintelligible to all but his nearest
family. Turner only made an effort to be understood when he was
talking to customers, but he made a special exception with the
captain of the guard. Tregarron had long ago made it clear this would
be advisable.

How did he know he was speaking the truth if he couldn't
understand what he was saying? He might be lying, and if so, this
would need to be determined at the fort. So Turner put the vowels
back into the right places, or at least his approximation to vowels,
and took away a few extraneous R's and added some missing H's,
sometimes when they weren't needed.

"I asked what you had seen, not what you hadn't
seen."

"Well, I saw young Galvyn lock up un leave abarra
han arf an owar ragoo. He was with another gentleman, a customer I
presumed, southern looking, gooin' on his garb."

"You mean by his clothes? He was with a
Coralainian?"

"Looked to be, but I day pay tay much attention."

Tregarron let the mangled words go as he ordered his own
thoughts, "When was this?"

Turner paused, and his face took on a look of intense concentration, "About, an half, an hour,
agoo, I mean, ago," he said.

"Did Galvyn go by his own free will?"

"Seemed tow, yeah."

"Which way did they go?"

Turner looked along the street and pointed, "Tow
the road and left t'ward Tiv'tay."

Tregarron was briefly distracted by an apprentice
standing just outside the doorway. His gray hood was pulled up and
the boy had his back to him. Tregarron could normally recognize
everyone, front and back, either by their hair, clothes or even just
their stance, but this apprentice was new. Normally he would take the
time to speak with him, find out who he was and where he was from but
he had more pressing matters.

"Has there been any trouble today, with customers I
mean, any problems you've heard of?" he asked.

"Not that I'm aware of, sir, no. Why d'yow ask?"

Tregarron thought for a moment, due to the lack of men
under his command he was going to need some help, more eyes and ears.
He would put the word out and see if it brought him any more
information.

"Mr. Croneygee was attacked earlier, hit about the
head. Robbery maybe, or an argument with a disgruntled customer."

"Is he alright, Captain?"

"No, I've had him taken to the pryor, he's in a bad
way. I need people to be vigilant and report anything suspicious."

"I'll put the word out."

"I know you will, Turner," Tregarron said,
leaving the man's workshop.

He was preoccupied and remained deep in thought, as he
and Teague walked towards the Demedelei Road.

"Do you think the lad might be in danger, sir?"
Teague asked.

"It's certainly possible," he replied, "It's
also possible he is involved himself in some way. What do you know
about him Teague?"

"Can't say I know anything about him, but If he
lodges in Tivitay, Phelan might know something."

"Yes, I was thinking the same thing."

Phelan was his man in Tivitay. The man had resided there
for a while before joining the guard. At Tregarron's behest, the man
took lunch at the inn a couple of time a week, out of uniform,
keeping in touch with a few people there and making a note of the
comings and goings.

Phelan was one of the guards he'd sent to search the
dried out moat and mines. He should still be in that area now. It
might be worth seeing how that search was going and if the other men
were back. Assuming there were no problems, they should be returning
to the fort with the three bound and unconscious men from the trading
post.

Tregarron suspected that, between them, those three men
would hold most of the clues as to what was going on. He wanted to be
sure they were securely at the fort and to see if any of them had
regained consciousness.

By the time they had reached the Demedelei road he had
made his decision.

"Let's head to the fort and see if everyone is
back. I'll speak with Phelan and see what he knows about Galvyn, and
then we'll go to Tivitay. I can't be sure we're only dealing with two
suspects, when we go, we'll go mob handed."

Teague nodded his agreement and the pair moved off, in
the direction of the fort.

Mingling amid the tradesmen and the apprentices, Alyssa
attempted to make herself look inconspicuous. The streets were
bustling here, with boys carrying bags of coal and pushing rickety
wooden carts with ingots of iron and copper. But by trying to make
herself look busy, she only got in the way. Attracting some shouts of
irritation, some quizzical looks and some downright leers.

She had
been confident in her disguise, certain that she looked like any
other of the apprentices, but she was far less sure now.

"Out of the way, missy," a burly, coal
dust covered foundry man said, as he hurried by with a handcart.

Alyssa pulled the hood of her jacket a little tighter
around her face and decided to make her way out of the Serfacre by
the same route as Tregarron. Still following and watching the man
intently, just as she had all the way down the highway. Observing his
mannerisms and gait, stalking him as though he were a stag.

Following the captain and his fellow guard, had brought
Alyssa two valuable pieces of information. The name of the
apprentice, to whom Tansley would take items to be repaired, and his
presumed destination, the village of Tivitay.

Should she continue to
follow the two guards? Was there more to be gleaned from them, or
should she head for the village?

For now she held back, staying out
of sight while weighing up her options.

She paused, as the two men stopped at the end of the
street that lead out of Serfacre, and she watched them as they briefly
engaged in conversation.

After a moments deliberation, the guards
unexpectedly turned right and walked off, away from Tivitay and in
the direction of the fort. She blinked away her surprise at this
development.

Alyssa had overheard what the man called Turner had said
to Tregarron, and the act of doing so had required her to take some
risks. The guards had entered the man's workshop, which meant
she'd needed to stand in the doorway to listen in.