The Hekamon (5 page)

"You're right," Aegis said, blinking away
tears, "I'm sorry. Let us recover my birth right, whatever the
cost or the difficulty. You men are here to help me do so, and I
appreciate that," he took a few deep breaths, while the wind,
gentler in this sheltered place, tussled his hair. "I have not
fully expressed my gratitude for your assistance. I won't question
the importance of our mission again." The young man said,
shaking and breathing heavily but his voice was holding firm.

Gregario looked from one to the other. Seeing that they
had regained their composure, he puffed out his cheeks, and spoke for
all three of them, "Let's get off this mountain."

The trio started to descend again. Mercifully the gale
had subsided and the going became a little easier. He let Gregario
take the lead position for the remainder of the journey down. And as
they traveled on, Decarius was lost in his own thoughts, at his need
to see the bigger picture and not to make any rash and impulsive
mistakes.

It was the civilized ways of Coralainians that set them
apart from the likes of the Fennreans and their festering existence
in the swamp. It was their civilization that was at stake, and to
secure it, the power needed to be held by those who could be trusted
to wield it. Within a few hours he would be in possession of the
relic and by tomorrow, the power.

Kormak had continued the decent, deeper into the forests
of the foothills, taking his sister with him. The fresh mountain
stream they had drunk from, and then followed for the last few
hundred yards, would be taking a different route. Meandering east and
merging with other streams before rejoining them again in the
marshes, in the form of the Rhavenbrook River. A large, slow moving
monster that they would need a bridge to cross.

After a couple of hours, their destination grew nearer.

"Not far now," he said, as the ground started
to level off.

"I know, I've been this far before."

"Well, since you know the way from here, you can
lead."

"I've been leading us for the last mile."

She had been, too. Falling into step behind his sister,
the pair continued through the forest, journeying on in silence,
though things were not so quiet around them. The lightening sky
bringing with it the chorus of birdsong.

With the silver birches giving way to elm, oak and the
occasional holly bushes, Kormak's thoughts drifted to how he
would explain his expensive purchase to his fellow ferguths. They
were expecting things from his trading mission, too. Yet he would
need to return empty handed at least three more times just to cover
the price of his iron grippers.

His desire to own them had been almost feverish, like
they had been calling to him. From the moment he saw them, he knew he
had to have them, no matter what the cost. If people were unhappy
with the price he'd paid, he would just have to make it up to them
later. He looked at his sister. He would cross that bridge when he
came to it.

"Look, the bridge, and before sunrise, too,"
Alyssa said, looking up at the early rays of sunlight as they
illuminated the wispy clouds against the blue sky above them, "Well,
nearly before sunrise."

"Close enough." He replied, slowing down now
the bridge was in view.

Their path joined with Tivitay Street a
short distance ahead and any travelers in these parts, and for many
miles around, would need to use this bridge if they
wanted to cross the river. If they were going to bump into any
thieves, or worse still, Demedelite guards, it would be now.

Kormak had been so busy looking at the way ahead for
sign of movement, he was oblivious to his sister's sudden distress.
Gradually, he became aware that she'd stopped walking and was
pulling at her jacket and shawl.

"It's gone! I've lost it!" She gasped.

"Lost
what?" He said, as nonchalantly as he could.
Could
she not have waited until we were home
.

"My necklace." She took off the shawl and
shook it, watching to see if anything fell from the folds, before
searching inside her jacket, where her leather belt pulled it tight
around her waist. Not finding anything, she started to look on the
ground and path just behind them.

"Are you sure you were wearing it?" Kormak
asked.

Alyssa looked at him angrily, "Of course, I wear it
always."

"I just thought, you might have left it at home for
safe keeping."

"Well I didn't, it keeps me safe—" she
trailed off, "I don't expect you to understand," She wiped
her eyes, the tears starting to well up, before starting back the way
they had come, looking at the ground.

"Alyssa, where are you going? We need to head home,
we'll look for it another time," he said, with exasperation in
his voice, but his sister ignored him and continued searching.

"Alyssa this is pointless," raising his voice,
as his sister drew further away from him. "Leave it for me to
find. I'll come back and look for it, I promise."

Should he keep up the pretense? Help his sister to
search even if it was in vain. Then, when the shock of losing her
necklace had worn off, persuade her to return home with him.

Or admit
he had pawned it to Tansley, and that he would get it back in a few weeks,
well months. He would tell her weeks if he told her at all.

He tried to visualize how angry she would be with him if
he told her the truth. She was mostly sweet-natured but life in the
marshes was tough. It gave them all ruthless streak and Alyssa was no
exception. She would demand they return to Tansley's and swap them
back again right away. Well, he wasn't going to do that, the iron
grippers were important and they belonged to him now.

Even so, his sister was taking the loss of her necklace
much worse than he'd anticipated. He couldn't recall seeing her so
upset and started walking after her. Alyssa rarely cried but now she
could hardly catch her breath.

"I have to find it," she gasped through her
tears, "I'm not leaving here without it."

"Alyssa we have to, we can't wait around. It will
be light soon and—"

"And what?" she demanded, suddenly composing
herself.

"You know." Kormak touched his face tattoo.
"If I'm seen here—"

"So what if you're seen here?" Her eyes bored
into him.

He found himself becoming more aggressive at her
insolence, "We have to leave."

In truth, it was hard for Kormak to be sure what would
happen if he was seen.

If any Demedelite guards in full uniform were caught in
the marshes they would be relieved of all their possessions, and
possibly an ear, or a finger, and sent away again. That's if they
were lucky. He knew a few Fennreans who would not be that charitable,
himself for one. By that measure, he'd always assumed the same fate
would befall any ferguth, either alone or few in number, caught on
the wrong side of the river. None had ever been so careless to find
out and Kormak wasn't about to start now.

"I'm not going back until I've found it,"
Alyssa insisted. "I had it at the trading post and can remember
the way, it must be somewhere along the route and I'll find it."
With that she turned and began searching again, walking back into the
woods.

Kormak watched her for a time.

If he thought the necklace was out there to be found,
then he would help her, for a time anyway, but he knew there was no
chance. Not only that, he'd invested too much in acquiring the
grippers to risk being caught and dispossessed of them. Kormak held
the eagle embroidered bag tightly.

"Alyssa, I'm going to Ochre," he shouted after
her, as loudly as he dared. His sister waved a hand dismissively in
reply, and he watched her disappear amongst the trees.

She can take care of herself, he thought, before turning
and heading over the Rhavenbrook Bridge, toward Ochre Hill, and home.

To Galvyn it sounded like thunder, three loud bangs
reverberating around his small room and waking him suddenly.

In his
sleepy state, his imagination wove the sounds into the remnants of a
dream. Was it thunder? Or was it huge rocks, hurled by one giant at
another. Crashing about him and forcing him to flee this way and that,
as the storm rained down around him.

Gradually the dream faded and he was awake.

The sound of knocking on his door, all he could recall with certainty, his
landlady letting him know it was time to get up. Climbing out of bed,
Galvyn pulled on some clothes, went to the washbasin and filled it
with some cold water from a jug.

He washed his face, more to wake himself up than get
clean. Before long he would be at Croneygee's workshop at Serfacre.
There, among the forges and small foundries, being clean was only a
brief state of appearance anyway.

Washed and dressed Galvyn left his room and went down
the two flights of stairs to what passed for a kitchen. A large oak
table in the center of the room and a wood burning stove to one side.
His landlady, Mrs. Willard, nodded at his appearance, "Good
morning Galvyn, do you want toast?"

"Yes, please," he replied, and was immediately
handed a wooden platter, with a few blackened wedges of burnt bread.

Toast was the only breakfast Mrs. Willard made, and
since breakfast was included in the price of his rent, it was what
Galvyn ate everyday. The sound of movement upstairs indicated another
of the guests was up and about. His landlady heard it, too, and a few
more uneven slices of freshly cut bread were thrown into the stove in
response.

"Needs a little more wood I think," she said,
examining the stove's fire tray, before opening the kitchen door and
going out into the back yard. Galvyn looked at his charred toast.
Mrs. Willard was not someone who knowingly under-cooked anything, not
such a bad thing, though, with some of the gamey meat that was the
norm in these parts.

With the door open, the heat from the stove was negated
by the breezy, cool morning air. The sun, just beginning to rise,
filled the kitchen with an orange glow, but so far offered little
warmth.

"Looks like it's going to be a nice day," Mrs.
Willard said, returning with few pieces of wood and placing them
carefully in the stove, "Are you in the mine today, Galvyn?"
She asked, almost as an after thought.

"I don't think so, old Croneygee told me he is
expecting some things in for repair. I'll be in the workshop, I
suppose."

"That's Mr. Croneygee to you." She said,
giving him mock clip around the ear that mostly just ruffled his
hair.

"That's what I said," he replied innocently,
finishing off the last of his toast. "I'd better get going, I'll
see you this evening, Mrs Willard."

"Take care Galvyn, and tell Enyon I said hello."

"Will do," he said, going into the hallway and
putting on his boots and jacket and letting himself out.

Tivitay was quiet at this time of the morning and
wouldn't get much busier. It was home to a few shops, half a dozen
houses, a couple of guest houses and an inn. Half-timbered buildings
with brick chimneys mostly. It was little more than a village,
extending over a fifty yard stretch of the road that ran between
Demedelei Town and the Rhavenbrook Bridge to the north.

Galvyn knew that despite being a small village, it had
advantages over the larger town. It was cheaper to rent here and so
was popular with apprentices like himself, who practiced their trade
in the workshops nearby. Not only that, It was a stopping point for
any travelers passing through who wanted to avoid Demedelites as far
as possible. This was considered quite advantageous for many of those
journeying between the lands north of the river and those south of
the mountains. It ensured the village a certain amount of passing
trade, as well as a reputation for lawlessness.

He headed up Tivitay Street to the Demedelei Road, and
followed the road west, until he was heading toward the fort. A few
minutes later, the sound of the workshops became increasingly
noticeable, until a blackened hedgerow to his right gave way to the
sight of dozens of small workshops. The orange light on the rooftops
of the buildings was caused by the dawn light. But the deeper red
glow beneath came from the numerous hearths, forges and furnaces they
housed.

Some of the coal the furnaces were fired by, had been mined from
directly below the land on which the buildings stood. The thick coal
seem reached the surface here and the very land itself was black.

Galvyn weaved his way around some of the coal boys and
carters, ferrying raw materials into workshops and the finished goods
out. He took the chance to look at some of the wares on display as he
walked by. His own place of work was on the quieter, western edge of
Serfacre, and with good reason. It was there that they did some of
the finer metal, leather and detail work. His boss was in a
particular line of business. Enyon Croneygee was an armorer, and
Galvyn was his apprentice. An apprentice with a specialty in fine
chain mail.

As she and her brother had approached the Rhavenbrook
Bridge, she'd felt her pulse quicken and a feeling of apprehension
grow. On hearing the hoot of a tawny owl nearby, Alyssa had
instinctively reached for her necklace. Her thoughts seemed to order
themselves better when owls where near, not like crows and ravens,
whose presence caused her mind react strangely.

Even as she reached for it there was a sense foreboding.
Just the touch of the pendant against her skin was normally enough to
give her some connection, but when was the last time she'd felt that?
Hours ago at least. Her hand felt around her neck, only to confirm
what she already knew, it was gone.

She searched the ground around her and then checked her
jacket. Even if it had fallen from her neck it should've been inside
her clothing, but there was no sign of it there.