67: Hanrey

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Hanrey walked briskly along the cobbled street with the letter nestled in his shirt pocket, its weight prickling his skin. He breathed deeply, replacing the Notary's musty atmosphere with the bracing tang of salt-laden morning air. He had been away longer than he had expected, since Notary Bates was taken with the unusual seal.

To Hanrey, the blob of green wax merely kept him from Cissie's words. The old Notary desired a rubbing for his family crest collection. A curious hobby, Hanrey thought, but each to his own. He waited, a little impatiently, as the old man worked a charcoal stick over a paper atop the seal, and was amazed at the emerging detail.

The Notary agreed with him that the seal was likely to be a market whimsy, but he would check the heraldic archives all the same.

By the look of the sun peeking above the tiled rooftops, a good hour had passed and Hanrey was surprised that Taniel was not waiting in the street for her mother's letter.

Across from the tavern, Hanrey paused. Only days ago he could not wait to be free of the place and now that he must leave his home behind, he was suddenly nostalgic. He sighed. The tavern had served its purpose. Taniel deserved her own life.

He grimaced. He had been pressuring her into marrying Peter, trying to shrug off his responsibility, and now ... now he was all that stood between her and the wizards' citadel, between freedom and slavery.

Hanrey ducked around a stationary carriage, its horse leaning lazily against one shaft, hip relaxed.

Entering the yard through the side gate, he fingered his breast pocket, longing to rip the thick packet of papers open. In the kitchen, Jimbo kneaded dough at the table. Stew simmered on the stove.

"Has Taniel been in?"

"Nope." The cook shook his head. "No hurry, boss. I have things under control, so long as she does lunch."

"Right." Hanrey kept on to his office where he took out the letter and centred it on his desk. He stood in front of his chair, eyes devouring Cissie's handwriting. His heart raced.

Taniel had been nearly three when her mother had handed it to him, making him swear on their daughter's life to carry out her wishes. When Cissie held up a second packet of tied papers, he saw it was tied with their marriage ribbon. Even now, his gut clenched at the memory of that cut ribbon.

Hanrey groaned as he sat. No one would know if he read it. He could tinker with the seal, easily leaving the tampering undetected. Opening the lower draw, he pulled out his silver flask and set it before him on the desk.

He took up the letter, running a finger over her handwriting. He turned it over and studied the wax seal, wondering if the imprint meant more than whimsy. He sniffed the paper. Under the mustiness, naught lingered of his beloved. He laid it flat on the desk and smoothed the edges. He sat for an eternity with his fingers drumming on either side of the letter.

These words were not for him. He would not break his pledge.

He snatched the flask and shoved it away. He dare not let that devilment take him, not again. After Cissie had gone, it had taken a good while for Rita to bring him back from a half-dead existence. He must never let himself visit that dreadful place again.

Hanrey closed the drawer.

Rita rushed in, her face flushed. Her eyes skirted the room. "Tan is not with you, then," she said, wringing her hands. "She's not here, Hanrey. I've looked everywhere, and she's gone."

Hanrey stared. "What do you mean - gone?"

"Gone-gone. She's not inside, or the stables, she's not at the creek and the dragons are all out, so she won't be in the cave." Rita stopped to take a breath. "Most of her things are gone." Her eyes popped and she flapped her fingers. "Tan's gone."

"Something is wrong," she insisted.

His mind blanked in response to Rita's fear. "Wrong?" Cissie was happening again.

He knew this would happen as soon as Taniel told them that she could dragontalk. He knew she would leave him. Just like his wife.

"Hanrey?" Vaguely, he heard his sister speak his name.

His eyes fixed on Cissie's letter as he grappled with denials. Taniel would not go without saying goodbye. She would not, nor would she leave her mother's words unread.

"You're right," declared Hanrey. "Something is wrong."

Shouldering past Rita, he rushed along the hallways to Taniel's room, flung the door open, and scanned the room. Most drawers were not closed properly. The wardrobe door hung ajar. Hanrey eyed the clothing on the floor.

He pounced on the boots and waved them at Rita.

"She loves these boots. She wouldn't go without them."

"They're not hers." Rita shook her head, frowning. She pointed to the corner, by the washstand. "Those are Tan's boots."

They gaped at each other, and back at the boots in Hanrey's hands.

"Tan's new dragonrider," Rita said.

Hanrey tried to make sense of what could have happened while Rita moved about the room putting things to rights.

"What is this, Hanrey?"

"What?" He dropped the dragonrider's boots.

"Have you seen this before?" His sister handed him a silver ring. He turned the ring in his fingers, squinting at the small emerald-eyed dragons encircling it. More damned dragons.

"Oh, all the gods." Hanrey slapped a hand over his mouth. "It's a clan-ring."

Rita paled. "Cladlings?"

Hanrey nodded. "Maybe she found it. Perhaps it is not a real one."

"Do you really think that?"

"No." He slumped on to the bed, his head in his hands. "Let me think a minute." The sounds of the tavern drifted around the bedroom as Rita stood by the dressing table.

"Rita, you're right," he said, after some time. "Her leaving doesn't make sense. If it was a Cladling, he wouldn't leave the ring here." Hanrey waved towards the corner. "The boots are the key. If Taniel chose to go off somewhere with this new dragonrider of hers, she wouldn't leave them behind."

"There is no note, either," Rita said. "Tan's impulsive, but she is not irresponsible."

"The clan-ring?"

"We have to get rid of it," Hanrey said. "Before it brings the black dragons."

***

31 March 2017 - replaced with revised scene

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