The Pale Locksmith

PRELUDE: THE JOURNEY HOME

"Not a word, or you will regret it."

The hissing in Rance's ear, made him jump out of his daze. He turned to see who had spoken, then stiffened. Leaning in through the window of the stationary coach was a man, as dishevelled as he was foul-smelling. But it was not his appearance or aroma that brought anxiety to Rance's heart, but what he was holding; a curved, mottled knife, somehow more fearsome for its point being missing. It seemed that the tree blocking the path ahead of them had perhaps not fallen of its own accord.

Rance had felt the sting of a blade before, and had no desire to revisit the experience. The man must have sensed this fear, for he grinned triumphantly at Rance.

"There now... just give me your coins and then I'll be off."

Rance glanced around the coach, desperate to somehow find a way to escape. Of course there was none. There was the window on the opposite side, but that was unreachable with the other passengers in the way. Passengers who had, apparently, not even noticed what was happening. Some were sitting with their eyes closed as his wife was, while others were preoccupied in something trivial. At that moment, Rance was as good as alone. The knife was now closer to his face, as if to spur him to reach for his coinbag more urgently.

"Hey! What's happening here?"

Even before the coach guard could finish his sentence the robber was gone, vanished as though by witchcraft. Clearly a little disappointed at losing the opportunity to skewer someone with the sword he had drawn, the guard looked through the window to Rance. Rance smiled weakly back.

"Tree's gone. We'll be heading off now."

­

The man was as good as his word, for just a few moments later the coach began again with a judder. The steady motion of the wheels masked the pounding still filling Rance's chest. He rubbed the scar on his forehead which had begun to ache again, as if to remind him of a previous brush with danger. He forced himself to breathe more slowly. He knew the attempt at robbery had only lasted a few seconds, but it had felt as if it had been a whole lifetime. Perhaps it would have been for Rance, if the guard had not intervened. The robber had carried a wildness in his eyes, one that suggested unpredictability. He could easily have shown gratitude for the coinbag by slitting Rance's throat. The other passengers probably would still not have noticed; such was the way when travelling with strangers.

Would another Lawkeeper have frozen as he did? Or would they be expected to use their training to disarm the man, making themselves a hero to all? Rance now wished he had done something, anything. If Mullia had been conscious and had realised how useless he had been in that pock-marked face of danger...

He brooded on that for a while as he stared out of the little wooden window, watching as the sun gradually made its daily climb. He could spy it as it shone between the tall trees that serrated the clear morning sky, and see its reflection danced along the stream that ran parallel to the broad stone track. The coach was moving smoothly – the journey was definitely more comfortable than it had been when he had been young. Back in those days, you paid a couple of coins to anyone who was offering to take passengers to a different city and then hoped for the best. Many a traveller had left one place and simply had not appeared at another, unfortunate victims of unscrupulous coach drivers.

Fortunately, since the arrival of the Redjay coaches - instantly recognisable for the scarlet stripe that ran along each side - all the routes had improved considerably. The Redjays paid a small toll at each city which went directly to the maintenance of the road, that grey stone web that kept the islands going strong. The most important of these was the one they were currently using: the wide straight route between Cilia Town and Dejana. It was called The King's Way – although Rance had never heard of any King ever visiting the island from the mainland, let alone travelling by coach. Unseen royalty aside, passengers found their journeys were now easier, safer, and considerably less bumpy. A neat arrangement for everyone – except for the Redjays' former competitors of course.