The Hekamon (32 page)

From what she'd
heard, the apprentice, and a man he was with, had left Serfacre in
the direction of Tivitay. So why had Tregarron walked the other way?

Either he thought the pair weren't worth pursuing or he had gone for
reinforcements. Alyssa hoped for the former but suspected the latter.
Not that she was complaining, this gave her a chance to get to
Tivitay first. She would need to move quickly though, the fort was
close by, reinforcements could be brought in no time.

There was one further detail that Alyssa had overheard
and knew she needed to be aware of. It seemed that this Galvyn fellow
was in the company of man from the south, a Coralainian. Could that
man be looking for the iron grippers, too? She had to assume that he
was. If so, she knew what she would do to him, feeling the hilt of
her dagger through the fabric of the jacket. She would deal with him
like she had the other two.

She started walking again, and as she did, an idea came
to her. Might she be able to make use of the Coralainian?

The captain
may not know it yet, but since he was investigating what had happened
at the trading post, she was the person he was looking for. Might
there be a way for her to use the man who had left the armory as a
decoy? Let him take the blame for what happened at Tansley's hut?

Tregarron had unwittingly helped her by showing her the way to the
apprentice. Maybe he could help further, by apprehending another of
the Coralainians searching for the grippers. Protecting her brother
from their inquisition in the process.

It might be possible, yet the idea of safe guarding the
the marshes didn't excite her as much as it normally would. What
excited her was the thought that there was a person close by who had
something of hers, something he was going to return.

Moving through the streets of Serfacre, Alyssa could
feel herself growing bolder. Her blood running hot like the rivers of
molten iron in the foundries around her. Fired by a feeling that was
becoming more tangible by the moment. Her necklace was not lost, it
never really had been, it was stolen.

Tregarron reached the Briddlesford Bridge but didn't
cross it. Instead he stepped off the Demedelei Road and onto a narrow
dirt track that ran down the bankside toward the Old Moat Road.
Following the path that snaked through the trees and bushes, he and
Teague weaved their way through and towards the mine entrances that
emerged from further along the bank.

Halfway down he realized something and stopped so
suddenly, Teague almost collided with him.

"What is it?" Teague asked.

He didn't reply. Instead he looked at the grassy expanse
of the dry lake bed. He looked at the long grass, and at the bushes
and trees strewn everywhere and the excellent concealment they
provided. He looked at the fort and at the door of the east gate,
just visible above the foliage that grew along the far bank. The
place where Croneygee was attacked.

He started scanning the whole area. And as he did, his eyes
were drawn to movement in the trees north of the fort and the two
guards he had sent searching there. The men had traveled a good
distance along, and he had to whistle loudly to get their attention,
before waving them towards him. Next to him, Teague spoke again.

"Is something wrong, Captain?"

This time he did reply, "Teague, go to the fort and
see if the men have returned from the highway. If they have, take
them to Tivitay and do it quickly, I'll see you there," he said.

Watching as Teague started to run up the bank and onto the bridge
before heading toward the main gate of the fort.

With the guard fetching reinforcements, Tregarron ran
down the bank toward the first entrance. He'd sent three men
searching this side of the road and he fully expected them to be
inside the mine, just as he had instructed. Now he sought to join
them, too, and quickly, time was of the essence.

Whoever had attacked Croneygee, would only have needed to
cross the road and enter the mine to be almost immediately out of
sight. Having done so they would then need to exit the mine
somewhere, and since Croneygee was the person they'd been interested
in, then his workshop would be their most likely destination.

He
hadn't been wrong to pursue Tansley. The man was the last person to
be seen with Croneygee and a potential witness. Not only that, the
merchant
was
connected somehow, since he'd been attacked, too.

Yet establishing
that connection had detoured him. The man he was looking for, the
prime suspect and the perpetrator of the violent assault, had
entered the mines. Of this he was certain. He was equally sure the
man had exited again.

Tregarron continued briskly along the path until he
reached the first of the adits. He paused, looking back and
across the dry moat at the two running guards he had called over.
They would be another minute at least. He couldn't wait that long. So
he signaled to them again, gesturing that they should follow him into
the mine, before going inside himself.

Tregarron made his way along the tunnel and entered into
the excavated seam. In his mind, he was making some calculations, how
many men did he have at his disposal and how quickly could they get
to Tivitay?

By his reckoning, half-a-dozen, and ten minutes.

Turning left at the Burntoak crossroads, Alyssa
continued down Tivitay Street.

Before long, the trees that lined the cobblestone road,
gave way to the half-timbered buildings of the village, with their
black tarred wooden frames, contrasting sharply with the white
limewashed walls. A few one and two story, timber-framed houses and
shops, along with two more substantial buildings with brick chimneys.

Awnings brought some color to the otherwise monochrome
village. A torn and battered red and white striped fabric, fluttered
over the window of a butcher's shop. Where strings of sausages and
joints of meat hung from hooks on display. While a larger green and
gold awning leaned protectively over the front of a grocer's stall,
with its crates of colorful produce.

Alyssa had been to Tivitay before, her mother had
brought her when she was younger. There was nothing stopping
Fennreans visiting the village but their lack of currency didn't
endear them to the shopkeepers here, who moved them on quickly and
not always politely.

Not that it mattered much, there was very little
by way of food and clothes that they couldn't make themselves, or at
least, acquire by other means. They avoided the place whenever
possible, and from what Alyssa could see, it hadn't changed much
since she had last walked through. If anything, it seemed smaller.

Despite her best efforts, her boots clattered noisily on
the cobblestones, sounding her arrival, but the handful of people in
the village took no notice.

She
did
take notice of them though, and
one thing became immediately apparent. If one of the men she was
looking for was a Coralainian, then she couldn't see anyone matching
that description.

Instead there were two ladies browsing a grocery stall,
an old man leaning against one of three lampposts in the village, and
two younger men, boys really, dirty from their labors.

Were they
apprentices? Almost certainly. But could she just ask them if one was
called Galvyn, or if they knew someone by that name. Alyssa worried
it might be too direct an approach. What if the answer was yes? She
hadn't given any thought to how she might extract the information, or
better still the necklace, from the boy she was looking for. She
decided to look around first, and started on the quieter left side of
the street, where only the old man was standing.

As she neared him, she could see he was the worse for
drink, shuffling and mumbling to himself. If the state he was in made
him forgetful and shortsighted, then he wouldn't be much use, but on
the other hand, he might forget he'd seen her, which would be
convenient. She decided to approach him and see if he could be
any help.

"I'm looking for a serfacre apprentice and I'm told
he lives here. Do you you know where I might find him?" she
asked, softening her accent as best she could and withholding the
name of the boy for now. The old man squinted at her.

"An apprentice? Well, there's Trindle's place and
Mrs. Willard's," he slurred, pointing at the two largest buildings
on the other side of the street, "and Bill sometimes puts them
up at his inn," he added, indicated to a building further along.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, young lady."

She pulled the hood closer to her face once more. Her
disguise was obviously only going to take her so far. From the side
and back, Alyssa was sure her appearance would be that of a boy or
young man, but up close and in conversation, her face and voice were
unmistakably those of a young woman.

Leaving the drunk, Alyssa began walking the length of
the village. Starting on the left, before crossing onto the right
where the lodge houses and inn were located. She decided to walk by
all of the buildings first, looking inside where possible, to see if
she could spot anything.

When she passed the grocers, the women there ignored
her, and it was good that they did. She was going to have to come
back again and wanted to be as inconspicuous as possible. While the
next building along was the inn, with only one more building beyond
that.

Just
as Alyssa reached the door of the inn, it opened and a young man
stepped out. She side-stepped what would have been a collision, and
as she did so, the two of them looked at each other.

They were the
same height and she guessed the same age, too. He was wearing brown,
knee length braccae and a white, coal dust smeared jacket. It was the
look of a serfacre apprentice. His auburn hair was the color of
burnished bronze and glowed in the last of the afternoon sunlight.
While his eyes were emerald green and flecked with gold.

They held
each other's stare, before she broke off as the two of them passed.

Could he be the one?

Alyssa took two more steps and then, on hearing a commotion behind
her, stopped to look around.

It seemed the apprentice had collided with a woman at
the grocer's, and in doing so, caused her to drop some of the
vegetables she had been inspecting.

"I'm so sorry," the boy said, picking up one
beet, before chasing after the other, which was rolling down the
street in Alyssa's direction. Angling her foot, she carefully stopped
the vegetable, which had been picking up speed, and in doing so,
saved the lad the ignominy of chasing after it.

When the auburn haired boy reached her, he knelt down in
front of her, and as he did, he paused, looking at her ankle and
the tattoo just visible above the boot.

Alyssa watched, as the boy's
eyes flickered, firstly with curiosity and then recognition.

"I've
seen—" he began to say, and then stopped. Looking up, his
eyes widened, and hers narrowed.
He's
seen the pattern before
.
He was the one she was looking for.

Standing up with the beet in hand, the boy turned and
handed it to the woman behind him, "I'll be more careful next
time."

"Just make sure you are," the woman replied,
with obvious irritation, before moving back to the stall.

The young man, though, he stayed where he was. Not
moving and no longer speaking. With the point of Alyssa's dagger held
in the small of his back.

Hayden entered his room, lifted a knapsack up off the
floor and placed it on the bed. He picked up his focale scarf from
the bedside table, and from a nearby chair, his cloak. He placed both
in the bag and looked around the room for anything else. Under the
bed were his caligae boots, they went in the bag, too, which he
fastened with a buckle.

He then sat on the chair and waited, so as to give
Galvyn more time to leave, while giving more thought to
his imminent journey through the marshes.

It was already getting late in the afternoon and it
would be dark soon. Night would fall before he was able to make it
out of Fennelbek but that couldn't be helped now. Waiting around
wasn't an option.

His predicament wouldn't be so bad if he'd been
able to buy a blade, just like he had intended. He wouldn't have
traded in his old one if he knew that he wouldn't be able to replace
it. As it was, completing his journey quickly would have to suffice,
that could be a form of security in itself. Getting where he needed
to be, and not hanging around in hostile territory, was his best course
of action now.

Deciding he'd given the boy enough time, Hayden stood,
threw the knapsack over his shoulder and went downstairs.

Reaching
the bar of the inn, he looked around. The table they'd been sitting
at was empty. He wasn't certain it would be. Galvyn had seemed
nervous about being left on his own. Perhaps he felt safer in the
village, if so he was probably right.

Hayden had been keeping
observant since leaving Serfacre and was confident they hadn't been
followed. There had been nobody he recognized from Coralai in the
streets of Serfacre either, so it looked like Decarius had been alone
after all.

With nothing else keeping him, Hayden started to leave,
but just as he was about to, he had an idea and walked over to the
innkeeper.

"Is there a back way out of here?" he asked.

The man looked at him quizzically, "Why?"

"The lad I was with, he was a beggar, he got a meal
out of me but he might be waiting outside. I don't want him bugging
me all the way to the pass," he said. Trying to put the
suggestion that he was going south into the innkeeper's mind.

"Yeah, there's a back way, follow me."

The man lead him down a short, oak paneled corridor and
past an open door with a stone staircase beyond it. Hayden guessed it
lead down to the cellar, and the smell of beer that wafted up on the
cool air seemed to confirm it. A few paces further on they approached
a sturdy outer door.