The Hekamon (55 page)

"Some financial recompense you mean?"

"Yes,"
amongst other
things,
"We
can inform them that there was a Coralainian attacking Demedelites
and we arrested suspects. They will tell us it was a rogue, an
absconding thief. We can tell them, that, if they compensate us
appropriately, the prisoners can be released and the matter closed."

"Yes. Do you think they were in any way involved in
the assault on Croneygee?"

"I think not, most likely it was this Hayden fellow
who was responsible. It seems he was looting valuable items to fund a
passage north, from what information I have been able gather. Coralai
wanted him, we wanted him and it looks like the Fennreans have him."

"No outcome would have been good for the thief but
that was probably the worst of the lot," Jephson laughed, "It
would seem that, not only has justice been done, it's been more than
done. Which is my favorite kind of justice."

"I think we can consider the fugitive apprehended."

"So it would seem nobody got away this time then,
eh, Tregarron," Jephson said, with a knowing smile.

Tregarron didn't respond, and certainly didn't return
the smile. Jephson wasn't just his senior officer now, he had always
been that.

It wasn't Jephson's competence or leadership that
commanded the loyalty of his men, it was the things he knew.
Tregarron felt his fury rising at the sight of the man's smirk and
let some of his anger show, to indicate he thought it no laughing
matter.

"So," Jephson continued, clearing his throat
and moving on from the sensitive subject, "What of Croneygee's
apprentice, was he an accomplice?"

"I did think at one time that the boy may have been
involved," he said calmly, "but I now suspect he made the
mistake of doing some under the counter work for this Hayden fellow.
Repairing the stolen Fennrean necklace without Croneygee's knowledge
when he should have been doing other things. When I took the
necklace, it stopped his game. Then, when he heard Croneygee had been
hurt by the man he had conspired with to undercut his boss, he might
have realized he could be in trouble and panicked."

"Where is he now?"

"I don't know. He's likely going to try and lay low
for a while. I will place guards on his lodgings for a few day and
see if he shows up."

"Might he have come to harm do you think? This
Hayden sounds dangerous."

"The innkeeper said he left before Hayden, and at
that point it seems he was unarmed, but Hayden did not then go south
has expected. It's not impossible he met up with Galvyn again. Their
leaving separately may have been a ruse, too, along with his claim of
heading to the pass. I suspect that it's unfortunate for Galvyn if
they did cross paths again."

"Unfortunate? It would serve him right. Croneygee
takes him under his wing and that's how he repays him? I'm pleased
with how you dealt with this matter, Captain, and I know you've
wanted more assistance with your duties here, so I will consider
making the extra manpower I'm bringing in a more permanent
arrangement." Jephson said, returning to look for the necklace
in the drawers he had already searched.

"I would appreciate it."

"It has been some time since I last spoke with
Vondern, I will have to arrange a meeting, if the necklace is
valuable, I will return it to him, for the right recompense of
course."

"Yes, that might work. We will have to see if they have anything they can give us in return."

"Yes, good point, there is little of value in the
swamp."

"I'm sure they will have a few things we can take
off their hands, I have something in mind. Of course, he might
suggest you destroy it."

"You mean like last time?"

Tregarron thought of the symbols on the pendant, and of
burning and screaming, "Yes."

"If I can find it, that is. Are
you sure you don't have it?"

"Quite sure."

"Where could it be? In the morning, I'll ask
Brigantia if she's seen it."

Bree couldn't be sure whether it was a lock of hair, or
a tassel of fine, golden silk. Studying it more closely, she noticed
how a few of the threads had been wrapped around the main strands,
giving the appearance of a tiny sheaf of wheat. Is that what it was
meant to be? Whatever it was, Bree thought that it must be important
to have been placed inside, so returned the tiny golden sheaf to the
locket and closed it again.

Seated on a velvet stool and looking into the mirror
that rested on her dresser, Bree raised the necklace to see how it
would look on her. She thought it suited her. Her white silk night
dress and flame red hair needed something in between and the silver
locket and chain were perfect.

If only the chain wasn't broken, then
she could wear it properly, as it was, she would have to hold it like
this.

How could she ever hope to repair it without her father
becoming aware she had it in her possession? She could always try to
repair it herself, but it would be a pity if she had to. Such
a beautiful piece of jewelry needed the attention of a skilled
craftsman. Where could she find one of those?

The irony wasn't lost
on Bree, that some of Demedelei's finest metal smiths were within a
stones throw of where she lived, and yet she couldn't make use of
their talents.

While studying the chain more closely, and marveling at
its fine teardrop links, Bree decided not to do anything with it just
yet. She didn't want to risk damaging the necklace further by trying
to repair it herself, and anyway, it wasn't as though she be able to
wear it while walking around the fort, so it would be sensible for
her to bide her time.

It would become a project for her. Finding a
skilled jeweler, or chain maker, who could make the necklace compete
again.

It was a challenge she would set herself. It would mean
leaving the protection of the fort, and going to the dirty and noisy
streets of Serfacre. An idea that excited and repulsed her in equal
measure. But if the necklace was ever going to be repaired, there
seemed no alternative. The chances of finesmith coming to her seemed
unlikely.

As she admired her reflection in the mirror, there came
the sound of a door opening. Bree could identify every door in the
keep from the sound it made when opening. The only exception was when
the oiling of the hinges and greasing of the locks would her throw
her senses awry, for a few weeks, anyway. The door that had just
opened was one she was very familiar with, more so than any other,
since it was the door to her apartments.

When the creaking sound the door made was short and
sharp, it heralded the swift, near instant arrival of her father. A
slower, more respectful entrance meant that, as on this occasion, it
was Kate. Neither of them knocked, not on that door, anyway.

"Bree?" The voice called from the other room.

"Yes?" She replied, placing the necklace in
the drawer of her dresser, closing it and picking up a hairbrush.

She listened to the sound of footsteps across the tiled floor of her
sitting room, and then came a knock on her bedroom door.

"Come in," she said, and began brushing her
hair.

Kate eased the door open and peered around it, "Your
father asked my to look in on you," she said, standing in the
doorway.

"That was thoughtful of him."

"And to to ensure your apartments are secured,"
her personal guard added, entering and closing the door behind her.
This was Kate's euphemistic way of telling her she would be locked
in.

"I'm not going anywhere, you know," she
sighed.

"There might be a good reason this time. There have
been a series of assaults today, one of them near the fort and the
victim was someone you're familiar with."

"Who?" She asked, ceasing her brushing and
turning to her personal guard.

"Enyon Croneygee, one of the serfacre armorers."

She did know him, or at least, she had seen him on
numerous occasions over the years. He and her father could often be
found deep in conversation about armament production, or supplies, or
some such matter.

"Is he badly hurt?"

"Yes, it's quite seriously from what I've been
told, but Pryor Jervay is aiding his recovery."

"Do you know who was responsible?"

"We have an idea yes, and he may be in the custody
of ferguths. So I think that danger has passed," Kate said,
staring to move away from the door, walking by her and across the
room.

"Then why the extra vigilance?" she asked,
brushing again.

"There are a few things we are still looking into.
The man in question is a thief and may have stolen some items of
value, including from the Fennreans, it might be why they apprehended
him. They might be very keen for its return."

This
caused her to pause the hairbrush mid-stroke, glancing at Kate's
reflection it the mirror. Her guard was not watching her back, but
rather surveying her room.
Looking for something?

"What is it they want returned?" She asked
nonchalantly, brushing again, with her focus on Kate. This time the
guard returned her look, via the mirror, "It's nothing for you
to worry about, we're just taking the necessary precautions,"
Kate said soothingly, walking back to the door.

"You'd better lock up then, just to be on the safe
side," she replied, unable to resist a smile. For the first time
in a long time, she might actually want the door locked, but she
dropped the smile quickly.

The fact that the necklace was missing
would not go unnoticed for very long and she was one of the few
people with an opportunity to take it. Fennreans? She wasn't worried
about them, they wouldn't get close to the fort. Her father though,
he was a different matter.

"I'm pleased that you understand our need to be
vigilant. Goodnight, Bree," her guard said, leaving and closing
the bedroom door behind her.

"Goodnight, Kate." She replied, listening to
the sound of the woman's footsteps, followed by the door to her
apartments being opened, closed and then locked.

She got up and quietly opened her bedroom door, just to
be certain the guard really had left. It would be unlike Kate to use
subterfuge, but Bree's own behavior had been out of character and it
had made her suspicious.

Certain her apartment was empty, she
returned to her dresser, opened the drawer and took out her necklace
once more. She didn't normally creep around and steal things. But did
it count as stealing?

Taking the lamp, she walked over to her bed and placed it
on the bedside table. She slid between the crisp white sheets,
shivering involuntary at their initial coldness, before pulling the
blankets tightly around her and resting her head on the pillow. She
rested the necklace on the pillow too, looking at it once again as it
shimmered in the candlelight.

So it was Fennrean and it was stolen, she had guessed as
much, on both counts. Perhaps this was why it had agitated her father
so much. No, she had heard him talk of a curse, he knew it was more
than that, and he was right.

In the short time she had possessed the necklace she had
already gleaned a great deal from it. Not least that it had been
stolen, but it had also been set free.

It seemed to give her an insight into the minds of
others, and not just other people, especially not people. Birds had
seemed particularly intriguing, their minds seemed especially
receptive.

How could it be possible? She was tempted to think that
she had just imagined it. Yet she'd learnt things from them she could not
possibly have discovered any other way. Seen places she had not visited and from a perspective
beyond her reach.

There
seemed to be one mind that was particularly strong.

It was not that
of a bird or a person, at least, not a living person, not as far as
she could tell anyway. The voice was calling to her and attempting to
make itself heard. The sentiment was clear, even if the words
themselves were not, and the message it conveyed was hard to make
sense of,
'Bring him
the key.'

Who? And which key? She didn't own any keys. It seemed as though she was expected to
understand.

Bree sat up and blew out the lamp, before laying back
and clearing her mind.

When she felt completely relaxed, she felt in
the darkness for the necklace and held it. She could sense her dreams
would be vivid and lucid, and even before she had fallen asleep, the
images started to come to her.

Then, as she drifted to the brink of sleep, she floated
to a state of heightened consciousness and, at the very moment her
imagination was at its most receptive, something reached in.

Bree had often that felt her dreams were important. That
they conveyed messages that had meaning and carried insights. Her
unconscious mind somehow unlocking a deeper knowledge, that her busy
and easily distracted waking mind could not. If that was so, then
this one would be no exception.

Immediately her senses were filled. The stars above,
brighter than she'd ever seen them, the crescent moon as bright as
if it was an eclipsed sun. The sound and feel of rushing air, the
view across the treetops, a sensation of flying that was palpable and
exhilarating.

It wasn't just a sensation of flying, she was flying.

Just above the trees, then into a glade, low past some
stones and into the forest beyond. Close to the ground and through
the trees, weaving among them, instinctively turning this way and
that. Would she still avoid them if she didn't? She couldn't be sure,
and didn't want to find out.

It was then she climbed sharply. It had not
been her doing. She was not in control but was a passenger. The
steep climb brought a rapid deceleration and a branch changed from a
fast approaching hazard, to a near stationary place to rest in the
blink of an eye.