The Hekamon (39 page)

He had spent the
last few hours walking around the muscle sapping hilly terrain of
Demedelei and its environs, he wasn't about to pass up a chance to
rest his feet.

"I was, at the time I thought it could wait but I
need to inform you of some of today's events."

"Yes, I think it's about time. I heard some
prisoners were brought in earlier and then Teague left with half of
the men, he said you would be updating me in due course, so let's hear
it."

"Before I do, I should say that Teague didn't
leave with half the men, we have everyone on it. The gate, and the
whole fort for that matter, bar the prison, is being manned by one
woman," he said, neither hiding his exasperation nor trying to
do so.

"Nonsense Tregarron, you do yourself a disservice,
you're a fine figure of a man," Jephson said, signing a few
papers and chuckling to himself.

"I meant Kate," he said dryly.

"I know you did," Jephson said, looking up
from his papers and waiting for him to join in on the joke, but he
didn't, fixing Jephson with a stare instead. He wanted the compliment
of men at the fort increased and he was going to make sure it
happened this time. If he had to border on insubordination, so be it.

"I hope you're not thinking of raising the issue of
the number of men under your command again, Captain?"

"No, sir?" he replied, and he wouldn't, not
directly anyway. He would let events speak for themselves. He had a
couple of aces up his sleeve this time, almost literally, and he knew
it would focus the lord's mind.

"Good, so what has been going on?" Jephson
said, dropping his pen on his desk and leaning back in his chair.

"Some assaults have taken place."

"Thuggery?"

"Yes."

"Nothing you and your men can't handle, I'm sure."
Jephson said, not looking unduly worried and picking up his pen
again.

"Croneygee is with the pryor, badly hurt and may
not survive."

"Croneygee?" Jephson said, frowning and
leaning forward. The armorer was Jephson's quartermaster and one of
his most trusted confidants. Already Tregarron could tell Jephson was
going to come around to his way of thinking. "Why has Croneygee
been assaulted and by whom?"

"I have all my men working on it," he replied
pointedly, "At the moment I'm going on the assumption that it's
the work of a Coralainian, one, possibly two."

"But captain, two Coralainians have been brought in
already and are being held in the prison. Your men have been quicker
to apprehend the culprits than you realize."

He shook his head, "Their involvement is still to
be established, I will question them shortly. There is at least one
other assailant, I'm sure of it. We found those two knocked out and
tied up at a merchant's trading post on the Regis Highway, the
merchant, too." He could see Jephson was deep in thought.

"What could they be wanting this side of the
mountains? You say that they have been attacked, and yet are carrying
out attacks?"

"It would seem so, maybe they are not Coralainian.
They look to be, but I will need to question them first. What's not in
doubt is that there are Fennreans involved." Tregarron reached
into his coat and brought out the rabbit skin pouch.

"When Fennreans leave their swamp they bring
nothing but trouble." Jephson said, inspecting the vials. "But
this could just be some of their traded wares. Not an unexpected
find, not on the highway."

"That's not all," Tregarron said, reaching
into is pocket and producing the silver necklace and its engraved
pendant. He placed it on the desk and slid it across, "The
Fennrean connection might remind you of someone."

Jephson stared at the necklace, his mouth open, and with
a look of disbelief. He slowly picked it up. "Tregarron, these
symbols," he said, in a whisper.

"I know. It's a disturbing discovery."

Jephson turned the pendant over in his hand, "Captain,
I know you don't believe in charms, curses and suchlike, but I find
this a portentous find. How did you come by it?"

"You say I don't believe in curses but I can tell
you this, I'm open to persuasion. Before I discovered that Mr.
Croneygee had been attacked, I found this necklace being repaired at
a serfacre workshop, a workshop belonging to none other than
Croneygee himself."

"Croneygee would not handle something like this.
He's an armorer not a jeweler, and he knows the swamp dwellers aren't
to be trusted."

"I don't know how much Croneygee knew of it. It was
in the possession of his apprentice who was trying to conceal it when
I entered and was less than forthcoming about who gave it to him."

"Then bring him in man, get the truth out of him."

"By the time I had found out Croneygee had been
attacked and that things had taken a more serious turn, he had
disappeared."

"A conspirator?"

"A neighboring workshop owner reported that the boy
appeared to leave the workshop willingly, and was with a Coralainian
when he did so."

"Damn it Tregarron, a conspirator. Find him."

"We're looking for him, it seems he parted company
with the Coralainian at Tivitay."

"I said find him, not look for him."

"I have guards stationed at his lodgings in case he
returns there, I've sent men to the Rhavenbrook Bridge and the pass.
My resources are…fully deployed in the endeavor," he
said. Deciding not to say limited or scarce, there was no need to
overplay a winning hand.

Jephson dropped the necklace on his desk and stood up
slowly, as he did, his attention was caught by some movement
outside the door, "Bree?"

"Father?" Brigantia said, after a hesitant
pause, stepping into the chancery.

"These matters are none of your concern."
Jephson said, recovering some of his composure and walking across the
room toward the door. Tregarron turned to look at the young woman in
the doorway, she was looking past him to her fathers desk. "Leave
the captain and I to discuss this, please."

"Yes, Father," she said, turning away.

While Jephson closed the door behind her and walked back
to his desk, Tregarron turned and looked at what the young woman had
been gazing at. The silver necklace, on the desk in plain view.

Jephson must have noticed her interest in it as well, because he
opened a drawer and placed it there, out of sight. Or maybe it was his
own eyes he was hiding it from. Tregarron smiled to himself, the
necklace had unnerved Jephson more than he'd expected, not necessarily
a bad thing.

"To be forewarned is to be forearmed," the
lord said, looking into the drawer and then at Tregarron, "We
should consider this a warning," closing the drawer and
continuing, "I'm going to call in guards from the villages and
put our reservists on notice, we can't be short handed dealing with
this, Captain."

"My thoughts exactly, Lord Jephson."

"Have your men report back to you and interrogate
the prisoners. I want to know what more you have found out by this
evening. Who this necklace belongs to is as much a priority as who
injured Croneygee. I consider both culprits to be equally dangerous.
That's assuming it's not the same person."

"I'm working on it your lordship, the extra guards
will be useful in this regard, I'm grateful for your understanding."
Tregarron said, bowing his head as slightly as could be considered
permissible, before letting himself out of the chancery.

As he walked into the great hall, he saw movement in the
stairway of the west tower, Brigantia, making herself scarce. But
presumably, not until she'd overheard the remainder of their
conversation, or at least, what she could make out through the door.

Tregarron left the keep and crossed the courtyard. Walking toward the
east tower, and the steps that lead down to the prison below.

If
Brigantia knows what's good for her, Tregarron thought to himself,
she will not concern herself with this business.

He may not believe in the visions of oracles, or the
ramblings of soothsayers. Nor did he pay much attention to the
premonitions of seers, with their warnings of a tattooed woman
bringing a curse, but her father does. It has lead him to kill before
and he would do so again.

At the sound of the footsteps, and with no time for them
to get back into their positions, Kormak realized that he and his
fellow ferguths had no choice, they had to confront whoever was
approaching.

Within seconds, the man who had passed by a moment
earlier came back into view. He seemed lost in his thoughts and
continued on for several more paces, before seeing them and stopping
abruptly.

Startled by their presence, the man remained standing in
the middle of the junction for a number of seconds, before deciding
to carry on back to the bridge. He would have done so too, but Tolle
had different ideas.

"What's your business here?" Tolle demanded,
giving the signal and leading the patrol of young ferguths over and
positioning them between the man and the bridge. Kormak looked on,
leaving Tolle do the talking while he listened with interest.

"Just passing through," the man replied
calmly. His accent had a certain melodic lilt to it. He was from the
south without a doubt.

"You
were
passing though, now you are loitering, what's your business here?"

"I've forgotten something and I'm going back to
Tivitay," he said, looking at each of them in turn.

He
knows and is weighing up his chances
.

"What did you forget?" Tolle said, less
stridently this time. This was no concern of his, the man was free to
say as much, but he co-operated, sort of.

"I'd forgotten the lateness of the hour. I'll set
off again in the morning," he said, starting to move around
their group.

"What's in the bag?" Palfrey asked, moving,
too, forcing the man to brush him to one side.

Kormak recognized the
opening gambit. Each of them had their well rehearsed moves and the
game started to unfold. Some distraction, some misdirection, a
gradual escalation of the contact. Tolle could break things off at
anytime but let it run.

"Be more careful," Tolle said pushing the man
back, seemingly in defense of Palfrey, "We don't want any
trouble."

"Nor do I, so if you let me by, there won't be
any." The Coralainian said, standing his ground, unmoved by the
shove.

It seemed to Kormak, that the traveler knew the game,
too. He would be outnumbered and lose the fight, but he could take
one down with him, and that one would be Tolle. His look made that
clear. If this was his intention, it worked.

"We need to ask you a few questions first,"
Tolle said, in a formal tone that suggested he was prepared to be
reasonable.

"This road is an agreed right of way, I have the
freedom to walk here."

"You did until you started loitering, now you can
answer a few questions and then you can be on your way." Tolle
said, sounding fair but the five of them had the man surrounded
now. He was stronger than any of them but he would be no match for
them all, so he relented.

"Where are you headed?" Tolle asked

"North."

"North's a big place."

"Yes it is."

"How long for?"

The man paused, "A couple of days."

"What are you carrying?"

"Just some clothes and personal belongings."

"That's a lot of stuff for a couple of days."

"I'm taking what I need."

Kormak guessed his talk of a short visit to be a lie,
the man hadn't wanted to say he wouldn't be missed for weeks or
longer. People know where I am and will come looking for me, that was
what he wanted them to believe. Tolle looked at the man and smiled.

"Well, once we've seen that's all you're carrying
you can go."

"This shouldn't be necessary," the man said,
looking at them in turn, before sliding his bag off his shoulder.
"Fine," he said wearily.

This was the moment Kormak was waiting for. If the man
had something valuable in the bag, he would likely swing it at a
couple of them to break the circle and make a run for it. If the bag
really was just full of clothes and his valuables were on his
person, he would drop the bag, let them open it and back away, before
making his escape.

When done right, they never needed to steal anything,
people would just run and leave things behind. They got quite a few
things that way. Those that believed the stories of the swamp
dwellers and their uncivilized ways were the ones most likely to
offer up some goods. If they respected them, they would be treated
likewise. So it was all fair in Kormak's eyes.

This one neither took a swing, nor gave the impression
he was going to. Instead he unbuckled the bag and showed them the
contents. Palfrey and Moxley were on bag duty and started to rummage
inside, while he and Tolle kept a close watch for sudden movements,
and Loccsleah kept a lookout.

The Coralainian watched, as the pair searched his bag,
but said nothing.

It troubled Kormak that the man had come back. Was he
scouting the marshes? This seemed the most likely explanation.

If the
grippers really were stolen from Coralai, and they'd found out from
Tansley he had them, this might be how they would go about getting
them back.

First, a traveler goes into the marshes, scouts around and
returns with information about what he had seen. Then a larger,
better armed group could come in and make some searches of their own.

"It's like he said, just clothes," Palfrey
said, standing up.

"So I guess that means I can go?" The traveler
said, buckling the bag.

Tolle gave Kormak a look which suggested he was going to
say yes, unless he had any objections or questions of his own. He had
plenty but it was impossible to ask any. Not without at least hinting
he knew that the man was looking for something, that he was
conducting a search and being a traveler was just a cover story. It
would only serve to confirm that the grippers were here and in his
possession. They would have to let the man go, and he gave Tolle a
look that said as much.