“That’d be Koal.” The guard who had been holding his horse pointed straight ahead. “Just take the main road to the square, turn left, and go about a quarter mile till you hit Barker. Take that left and you’ll find Koal’s smithy on the right. Or is it on the left? No, it’s right.”
Ferrin waved his thanks and urged his horse into a trot. Hatch and his men were halfway to the gate. They were close enough to see the captain’s dark hair blowing in the wind. He didn’t look happy. Ferrin could hear him shouting but couldn’t tell what he was saying. He didn’t reckon it would have taken much of a guess.
Ferrin urged his horse to move faster. Once out of sight of the main gate, he kicked him into a full gallop. He hoped the overly incompetent guards kept Hatch and his men preoccupied long enough for him to make it to the square.
The streets were empty, which made traveling easier. He reached the heart of the city in short order, but instead of turning left as the guard had suggested, Ferrin directed his horse right instead. He hoped that the mislead would be enough to keep ol’ Goat Face tied up for a while.
A smithy would have been the preferable choice to help get the collar off his neck, but with that being the first place the Black Watch would undoubtedly search, Ferrin would have to do something else.
He stopped in front a small shop on the seedier side of town. The sign out front—painted yellow with faded green trim—had a pair of brown barrels on the front with the word cooper sketched over top. If there was one place other than a true smithy who would have the tools necessary for removing the unwanted contraption, it would be there.
Ferrin moved his horse around the side of the shop and tied it off in front of a small stone building. It was very similar to his own smithy back in Rhowynn. From the smoke rising out of the chimney at the back, he could see the cooper was still at work. With harvest season upon them, his services would be in high demand.
Ferrin knocked on the door and waited.
A man who looked to be in his mid-forties opened the door. He had a mallet in one hand and a chisel in the other. A long-stem pipe hung from his mouth, which seemed to be more for chewing than smoking, since the glow of its tobacco had died out.
“Can I help you?”
“I apologize for the late visit, but yours is the only light still on,” Ferrin lied. At least this one was half-believable. “I tried a few of the smithies, but they had already doused their kilns for the night.”
The man stared at him a moment and then finally opened the door. “Come on in, then.” He walked back into his shop. “And shut the door behind you. It’s cold out tonight, and my bones don’t take it like they used to.”
Ferrin hadn’t noticed the cold. The last thing on his mind was the temperature.
The cooper turned. “What seems to be the problem?” His eyes drifted to the metal collar.
“As you can see, I’ve managed to get this thing stuck on my neck and can’t figure out how to get it off. I was hoping to borrow a few tools to see if I could score it deep enough to crack.”
“Hmmm.” The cooper laid his hammer and chisel down to get a closer look. “Mighty fine piece of work. Yours?”
“Wish I could say that.” Ferrin smiled. “No, I traded it off a peddler for a couple sacks of winter grain, a good saddle, and a helping hand with one of his wagon wheels. The man said he purchased it off one of the ships coming back from the Blue Isles. He said it was a genuine native luck charm. They wear it around their necks to increase . . . fertility.” Ferrin lowered his head to appear embarrassed, not that what he was saying wasn’t enough to do that on its own. “The wife and I have been trying for some time, you see. And, well . . .”
The cooper raised his hand. “No need to explain.” He walked a full circle around Ferrin as he examined the collar. “I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t see an opening here. How did you say you got this thing on?”
“I’m not sure. It was the peddler who did it. Come to think of it, he did seem quite anxious to part ways as soon as he got it latched.”
The cooper just shook his head as if wondering what kind of simpleton would have let a peddler put this around his neck without telling him how to get it off.
“Bring it over here and let’s see what we can do.” The cooper offered his hand. “I’m Willard.”
Ferrin shook the man’s hand. “Ferrin.”
He followed Willard to a small anvil and watched as the man rifled through some of his chisels before deciding on one with a fine edge. He directed Ferrin to kneel down and place his neck over the center of the anvil. Ferrin felt like he was heading for the chopping block.
“All right, let’s see if I can score it like you said.” Willard angled the sharp end of the chisel away from Ferrin’s face and raised his mallet to make the first strike. Ferrin closed his eyes as the cooper started hammering away.
“Curious,” Willard said, dropping one chisel on the floor beside him to grab another, one with a more durable edge. He raised the mallet and struck again.
The echo of each clang was a welcome sound to Ferrin, a reminder of better days back home, but the frustrated grunts coming from the cooper were leaving him with a growing sense of dread. “How’s it looking?”
“I’ve never seen anything like it. I haven’t even managed to scratch it yet.” Willard leaned back and looked Ferrin in the eyes. “Who did you say gave this–”
The doors at the front of the shop erupted. Splintered pieces of the handle and lock flew across the floor.
Willard stumbled backward, his pipe flying from his mouth, giving Ferrin a clear view of the men in white standing just outside.
“I told you there’d be no escape!” Captain Hatch crowed, a proud smirk on his goat face as he walked inside.
Chapter 10
FERRIN WAS EVEN MORE stunned than the cooper. How had they found him so fast? It should have taken them hours to search out every blacksmith in Syrel. There was no way they could have tracked him there.
Ferrin’s legs were trembling as he stood. He had waited weeks for the right opportunity, and here it was slipping away right in front of him. He picked up the mallet Willard had dropped, along with a large hammer hanging from a nearby rack. The cooper crawled to the back of his shop, not wanting to get in the middle of whatever was going on.
“Having difficulty with your collar?” Goat Face asked.
Ferrin didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to give Hatch the satisfaction. He was too busy staring at the strange glow beneath the captain’s shirt.
“By now you must realize that it can’t be opened. Not without a key, that is.” The captain reached into the top of his tunic and withdrew a long gold chain. He held out the artifact dangling from its end for Ferrin to see. Whatever it was, its tip was glowing a pale blue.
It wasn’t a normal key, comprised of a stem and a set of ridges. More like a cylindrical rod with some kind of symbol etched into the end. On closer inspection, it was the symbol that was glowing and not the rod itself.
Hatch took a couple steps forward and the key brightened to the point that Ferrin couldn’t look directly at it.
“You see. There’s nowhere you can go that we can’t track you. This key is connected to the durma. All we had to do was follow the key’s glow, and it led us right to you.” Hatch smirked. “Nice attempt, though, sending us after that other smithy. It didn’t take us long to realize we were heading in the wrong direction.”
Ferrin sneered. This was what he got for asking the Creator for a favor. “I’m not going back.” He raised both mallets and slid one foot back. “Only one of us is leaving here alive.”