The Hekamon (19 page)

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Authors: Leo T Aire

BOOK: The Hekamon
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Decarius knew that if he was going to find the right
workshop, he would need to plan ahead. It would be easy to become
lost and disorientated here. He had only walked a few paces into the
mine, yet already darkness was closing in around him.

He pictured the ground above, and how when he had moved
away from the armory, he had gone in the direction of the fort and to
the edge of the bank of the old moat. It was from there he had seen
the two men emerged directly beneath him, from the very tunnel of the
mine he had just entered. With this in mind, Decarius considered the
way he would need to go.

If he were to walk forward fifty yards from
this point, and in the direction he was facing, that should take him
under the armory.

After thirty paces, some shapes appeared in the gloom
ahead of him. A large, mostly untouched wall of coal, with some steps
nearby, that lead up through the mass of ropes and timber that
supported the roof. He walked the remaining twenty yards and found
himself in a dimly lit and open stair well.

This had to be it.

Looking up, he could see almost no discernible features,
just blackness. Some light would be useful, and he contemplated
looking around for some discarded miners lamps, before thinking
better of it and starting up the stairs. They seemed study enough,
built as they were into the solidly constructed wooden structure that
held up the roof. And despite the darkness, he moved quickly, with a
handrail providing guidance.

After four flights he was now mostly feeling
his way along. The stairs ended at a wooden gantry, and after searching
around, he felt a ladder. Climbing the rungs, Decarius could now see
the faint outline of a door in the ceiling above him.

Reaching up
with one hand, while keeping a firm grip of the ladder with the other,
he tried pushing on the door and it start to lift. A little more
effort and it was open enough for him to see into the room it gave
way to. He could see it was a coal bunker. Coal dust covered the
floor and a pile of coal was over to one side.

On the wall in front of him there was a subtle shadow.
There must be a small window behind him, obscured from view by the
trapdoor above him. It must be the dust covered window he had seen at
the back of the workshop. If it was, then he could place where
in the building he was, and more importantly, it meant he was in the right
building.

He waited and listened. He could hear a murmur of
voices. Were they were coming from inside the workshop or from
outside? It was hard to be certain, since they were being drowned out
by the other sounds of Serfacre.

Hammering, drilling, metal bashing
and grinding, the rattle of carts and clanking of mechanisms whose
purpose he could only guess at. There came occasional shouts of men
too, hollering to make themselves heard over the noise. There was
certainly plenty of activity outside but this workshop seemed quiet.
He would have to investigate further to be sure.

Looking to his right, he could see the coal bunker door.
It was closed. The daylight streaming under it suggested that it lead
into the shop front with its south facing window.

This must be the
right place.

Certain of his location, and that he could get into this
room without being noticed, Decarius pushed the door open and started to climb out. As he did so, there was a thud.

The noise startled him, and he stepped back down a rung, before remaining completely still, trying to understand
what had caused it. The vibration of the trapdoor that accompanied
the sound, suggested he had caused it. Moving up again and twisting
his head, he could see that he'd struck a chain that hung down from
the ceiling. The chain now swung to and fro portentously, like a
hangman's noose swinging in a breeze.

He needed to make a decision, and quickly. He could
either go back down into the mine, or climb out and press on with his
search. He couldn't afford to be caught half-in and half-out of this
door.

He made his decision, and started back up the ladder.
Squeezed out through the partly open trapdoor, taking care not to
make any more noise and closed the door gently, before halting the
swinging chain above it.

Decarius moved silently but with increasing urgency, he
could hear something and it alarmed him.

There came the sound footsteps and creaking floorboards
coming just outside the door. From his crouching position in the
center of the room, he could see the light under the door dim a
little. He must have been heard and now someone was approaching.

He looked for the hinges to see which way the door would
swing and in two swift, silent strides maneuvered himself into the
shielded corner. Even as he was doing so, the handle started to turn
and he was barely in place before the door began to open. The door opened fully and remained like that for several
seconds.

From where he stood, Decarius could see shadow cast on the far side of the bunker was that of a
person standing in the doorway. The figure stepped forward and ceased
to be just a shadow.

It was the young apprentice.

From the boy's
clothes and hair, Decarius was certain it was the one he was looking for.
The one he'd seen earlier, the one who would have the answers he
sought.

The apprentice walked further into the coal bunker and
towards the trapdoor, bent down and began to open it. The boy hadn't
been followed in, nor had he spoken and there was no other shadow on
the wall. Was the young man alone?

Stepping out from behind the door, Decarius glanced
quickly through the doorway and into the next room. It was exactly as he'd
expected, the large south facing window, the workbench, the hearth,
all just as he had seen from the street outside. It was the final
confirmation he was looking for, and since the room was empty, the
way was now clear.

He turned his attention to the apprentice,
who had sensed movement behind him and was closing the trapdoor. The
boy was beginning to turn, but before he could, Decarius pounced.

He Lunged forwards, and was on the boy in an
instant. Grabbing him before he could react and putting him in a
headlock, with one hand over his mouth and the other around his neck.
Certain not to make the same mistake he had with old man. This
one wouldn't get the chance to cry for help.

Once he had him, he held
him, gauging his strength, or lack of it, until confident he was
firmly in his grasp.

The infiltration of the armory had gone smoothly.

Yet Decarius knew he had not been as thorough as he
might have been. The trapdoor had dropped a few inches, landing with
a thump. It was hardly noticeable among the noises of the workshops
nearby. If anything it fitted right in, silence was more likely to
draw attention than the thud of the door, but he couldn't be too
careful.

Keeping his captive held firmly, he backed out of the
room, so as to get a view of the whole of the shop front. Making sure
that it was indeed empty of customers. He didn't hang around. The
large window and open front door gave a good view inside for anyone
who might look in, and Decarius wanted the interrogation of the boy
to go unseen. Whether it was from people passing on the street
outside, or any customers who might walk in at this inopportune
moment.

With the boy firmly in his grip, he moved back into the
coal bunker and used an outstretched leg to swing the door closed
behind him. He was careful not to close it completely though, he could use some of the light, he wanted to see what he was doing.

"Make a sound or any sudden movement and I'll kill you,
understand?" He told his young captive.

The boy nodded that he understood, or as best he could,
considering the choke hold he was in.

"A merchant came here earlier, didn't he," he
hissed in the boy's ear, who nodded in response. Decarius could feel
him shaking and twitching. "He left something here, something
very valuable. Am I right?"

Another nod.

"Now you're going to tell me where I can find it," he whispered, "and you're going to do so quietly, or
it's the last thing you'll do." He moved his hand a little way
from the boy's mouth, ready to clamp it back on should he do anything
but whisper his reply.

"Captain Tregarron came in and took it. He took it
with him to the fort," the boy said quietly.

His mind raced at this revelation. It couldn't be true.
"Why would…? How…? You're lying," he hissed
through gritted teeth and tightened the grip around the boy's throat.

Decarius tried to make sense of the answer he had been
given. There was only one explanation, the boy was trying to get rid
of him, he was trying to send him in the direction of Tregarron. Did
he think him crazy? Did he expect him to go knocking on the main gate
of Demedelei Fort?

"You're going to start telling the truth, or I'm
going to kill you," he said, strangling the boy.

Yet
he felt a growing dread that the boy might be telling the truth.
Tregarron would covet the Plautius Gauntlets every bit as much he
did. If anything, even more so. Tregarron knew them by a different
name and would have thought them well beyond his reach. Should
that
Demedelite ever get
a chance to seize them for himself, he most certainly would.

Suddenly Decarius saw the flaw in his plans, and the
rage it induced, caused his fingers to tighten around the boy's
throat. He had assumed the merchant on the Regis Highway, would
neither guess that it was the Eagle Standard of Coralai, or have a
chance to sell it in the few hours that it was in his possession.
Since nobody travels the roads at night, no prospective buyers would
stop by.

His mission was a failure.

That he could blame it on Hayden, meant it stopped short
of being a disaster, but he took the loss personally. Only a few
people would know he was to blame, but they were the people who mattered.

The boy in his grip was struggling now, shaking move
violently and trying to prize his fingers off his throat. Decarius
would do to him what he had done to the armorer, it would be a
warning to Jephson and Tregarron of what they could expect. Their
acquisition of the gauntlets wouldn't be the end of the matter but
just the beginning.

The boy was flailing his arms now, and using what little
strength he had left in a futile attempt to free himself. Decarius
gripped even more tightly. He would show them what happened when the
Eagle Standard was disrespected, or when an enemy presumed to take
possession of it.

Suddenly, Decarius saw a light fill the room, and on the
far wall, a shadow.

40

Tregarron arrived back at the fort, walked through the
barbican and into the gatehouse beyond. And, without stopping or breaking
stride, he spoke to the guard on duty there.

"Any visitors while I was gone?"

"No, sir," Teague replied.

He had expected as much, the armorer would have entered
the fort through the east gate via the Old Moat Road. He would make
his way down and meet him there, but not yet. Not until he'd met with
the one person who would be even more interested in the silver
necklace than he was.

Moving across the courtyard, up the stone steps and into
the keep. Tregarron crossed the great hall to Lord Jephson's
chancery. As usual, the door was open but on this occasion, the
office was empty.

Hearing footsteps on the spiral staircase of the west
tower, he turned, half expecting to see Lord Jephson but instead saw
a young woman. Her slender figure moving gracefully down the spiral
steps, through the stone archway and into the high vaulted hall at
the heart of the keep.

"Brigantia, have you seen your father?"

"He was here earlier but that was over and hour
ago," she replied, "have you tried the dining hall or
kitchens?"

"I haven't," but conceded that Bree was likely
to be correct about her father's location. Jephson enjoyed his long
lunches and it was that time.

"I'm going that way, do you want me to tell him
that you would like to see him?"

"No,
it can wait, but thank you. I wouldn't want to disturb him."
Or
put him off his food
.
He could guess what the man's reaction was going to be when he the
symbol engraved pendant.

"You're not having lunch?" Brigantia asked,
gliding by in her full length, white dress. It was her normal attire
and contrasted strikingly with her long, red hair.

"No, I have a few things to attend to," he
said, following her out of the keep but turning right where she
continued on.

"Very well, Captain. Good day to you."

"Good day, Bree," he replied, walking toward
the east tower that overlooked the Old Moat Road.

Moving briskly, he
walked through a stone archway, along a corridor and into the east
tower, before descending the stone staircase to the torch-lit depths
below. The stone buildings gave way to rock foundations as Tregarron
moved deeper, before emerging through a wooden door and into a long
passageway carved out of the rock.

These deep tunnels of the fort had been made long before
it came into the possession of Jephson family. Their original purpose
unknown, if indeed they ever had any purpose.

Jephson said they were
just natural formations in the rock. It was possible, but Tregarron
thought unlikely. The size of the tunnels and the way they provided
ready access to different parts of the motte was too convenient to be
accidental. How ever it was they had come into being, they were now
used as a prison and had been for many years. Much useful information
had been extracted here during the bewailing wars.

Another doorway, another flight of stone steps and
Tregarron moved into a corridor that no longer needed torch light. An
iron grille at the end of the tunnel allowed light and fresh air in.
He was close but not there yet. Descending further flight of steps,
he was now walking through the deepest part of the network of
passageways, and halfway along the corridor, he found the room he was
looking for. The guard room.

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