Chapter 8

[Kamares, Patrae-Vasíleio]

[11:00 AM]

Forty five minutes of silence accompany Lucas’s tireless pedalling from Drepano to the town of Kamares. He comes to a stop at the base of the hill upon which the houses stand. He locks the wheels with the bicycle parked at the mouth of the trail leading up to the summit plateau. In his mind, whole minutes of thought go by before he rises from the ground. He thinks about that conversation, if it can be called as much, between himself and Wren. He’s almost certain she experienced it as more of an interrogation. What’s more, the fact that she hasn’t asked him where they’re going since leaving Drepano causes the urge to apologize to build up inside of him. This fades when she breaks the silence herself.

“Why are we stopping in Kamares?”

Lucas gets up from kneeling in front of the bicycle’s wheel and turns towards the town. He neglects to look at her directly, for fear that the sound of distance in her voice reflects a similarly repressed look on her face.

“This is the nearest inhabited village east of Drepano. It’s a little more than fifteen and a half kilometers away, so if Homer stopped anywhere to let his horse rest or eat, it would be here.”

Partway through his response, Lucas works up the nerve to glance at her and finds that she appears to be immersed in thought rather than dejectedness. Her response conveys as much.

“You think he was running at full gallop most of the time?”

“Yeah, if not the whole way. He can’t run the risk of assuming he isn’t actively being followed.”

Lucas starts walking up the hill, followed by Wren, who continues with her reply. They continue to converse as they near the populated heart of the small town.

“Even if he did stop here, we don’t know who saw him and who didn’t. It would take too long to ask everyone.”

“We don’t need to question the whole town, and I’ll tell you why. Homer didn’t know anyone was on his tail until Agios, when Dalton ambushed him. Where do you think he would have gone if that hadn’t happened?”

“Well, I’d think he would have left the country entirely.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Right. But there’s a bridge just north of the capital that leads directly to Agrinio. So, why go east instead of north?”

“Maybe there’s something around here he needs before crossing the border?”

“Something he didn’t want to carry with him when he went to the capital, possibly because it’d draw attention. Carrying a satchel or backpack full of his belongings would make him look suspicious while entering and leaving the city.”

“So he left his belongings at a safe location that he could return to under normal circumstances.” Wren begins catching on to Lucas’s line of thinking.

“And what’s a more convenient place than—”

“His own home.” She nods in realization of his deduction. “Not bad.”

“I’m sure he’s already come and gone, but there may still be clues that can inform us on what he’s thinking and where exactly he’s going.”

“But this isn’t the last town before we reach the border. You can’t be certain that he lived here and not somewhere else.”

“There aren’t many places to check and it doesn’t take long to ask one or two people if they know him. In the worst case, we spend a collective fifteen minutes poking around a few places and get back on the main road. For the prospective information, I think it’s worth it.”

They arrive at the entrance of the town and see that there are many people walking about between the streets. Some are leading herds of goats and sheep, others are carrying baskets of animal feed. Lucas approaches a woman he finds relatively unoccupied.

“Excuse me, ma’am.”

“Yes?” She turns around and sees that she doesn’t recognize either of them. She also eyes the emblem on Wren’s sleeve and straightens up. “Ah, welcome to Kamares. What can I do for you?”

“We’re looking for a man named Homer Smith.”

“Homer? Yeah, he was here not too long ago.” She points deeper into town at a house with a small shed next to it. “You two look like you’re with the Court. If you’re looking for something he forged, his smithy is over that way.”

“Perfect.” Lucas begins moving in that direction and Wren reluctantly follows. She also does her best to keep the woman’s attention despite this. “How long ago did he leave?”

The woman, slightly put off by Lucas’s rush, follows them and answers. “Maybe twenty minutes ago, him, Faye, and Jessica.”

This is the last of what Lucas hears before he’s out of earshot. His quick pace gets him to the house and shed within a few seconds. Once there, he looks around at the other residents of the town to ensure that none are looking his way. He enters through the open front door and looks around the house. It consists of one floor and three rooms, all of which are relatively empty beyond average furniture. Lucas leaves the door the way he found it when he leaves.

The shed stands not far from the main house and it doesn’t take long for Lucas to find himself before its closed door with his hand on the doorknob. Just as he begins opening it, the voices of Wren and the woman they first talked to become audible.

“—Yeah, all on one horse. I mean, Jessica’s only about yay-big, so she hasn’t much weight to her.”

“And who are Faye and Jessica, exactly?” Wren asks in a conversational tone, one that conveys the atmosphere of a friendly chat rather than an investigative questioning. The woman’s response is just as nonchalant. Lucas barely has a moment to take in the sight of the room when the woman’s next few words pull away all of his attention.

“Oh, his wife and daughter, of course.”