Ben Dover's Arc

Chapter 106 of 150

Ben came off the pass with the painted chest on his shoulder and the grey creature at his heel. The seal was in his coat. The witness was on the ground behind him. He had the proof. He still had no way to get it to Cage. Her hunters worked every road down from the mountains, and any rider who caught him on open ground would put a bolt in him before he could open the chest. He left the road at the first bend. The creature followed without a sound. He walked into the pines until he found what he wanted: a low stone ruin choked in vine, three narrow windows and a doorless mouth. Old. Watched-looking. No tracks in the dirt at the sill. He set the chest inside on a flat slab and sat on his heels. He needed a runner. Someone Cage's men would stop and listen to instead of shoot. Someone who would come back with word. He heard the boots before he saw the man. Tim Burr stepped through the vine at the door and stopped. His pale face was the same as in the trees where he had sewn Ben's coin into the lining. His yellow eyes went to the chest first. The painted eyes on the lid looked back at him. "That one is not mine," Tim said. He said it the way another man might name the weather. "I know." "Someone has been moving my marks in this wood. I came to see who." He looked at the grey creature. The creature looked at him. "That yours?" "For now." Ben opened the chest. He took out the folded seal and held it flat so Tim could see the stamp and the eleven names and the twelfth struck through. He closed the chest again and tapped the lid. "Cage's people are on every road down," Ben said. "I need a man they will not chase. Carry this chest and the paper to the mill at Wet Ford. Show the seal at the gate. Let them look at what came out with it. Then walk away. They will not follow you once they read the list." Tim watched the painted eyes. "Why not you." "Because they know my face. They will kill me before I unlatch it." "Pay." "Six coins now. Six when you come back and tell me they read it." Tim thought. He touched the underside of the chest with one finger, feeling for a notch that was not there. "I will mark it," he said. "So I know if it comes back through my wood." "Mark it." Tim scratched a small line under the iron band. He lifted the chest onto his shoulder as if it weighed nothing. The grey creature stood and walked to his heel without being called. "Wait here," Tim said, and went out through the vine. Ben sat down against the stone and listened to the boots fade. The proof was moving. He was not.