The Hekamon (11 page)

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.

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.

"Kormak, 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."

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."

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 bewailing 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."

"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.