The boy didn’t have time to do more than stiffen before the drug did its work and he slumped into Ieuan’s arm. He held the cloth over his mouth for a moment longer to ensure that his prize would not wake up too early. He threw a sack over him, tied the neck up and slung the baggage across the saddle before mounting himself, arranging his burden in front of him. He could feel the little life coursing through the virginal body. A shame it was so long until the night, when they could be one.
The drugged cloth went back into his bag and then he kicked the horse into a fast walk that took him through the trees and around the village to the west. He was tempted by a roaring mental bravado to ride openly through the settlement but he would not take the tiniest risk, not now, not now. When his Power and Sight were at their strongest, later, then he would do whatever he wanted and no-one - no-one - could stop him. He would be their master and they would do his bidding.
For now, he rode silently through the quiet woods, around the village and on into the wilderness to the north. He would have his Power back before he reached the Wall and no-one would stop him.
*
A short while later we three rode into the village and I ordered a halt. The mist that had hindered us on higher ground lifted over it but still hung above us, as threatening as death. We asked if anyone had seen the Druid and, if so, when. No-one had.
“Have we lost him? Did he turn off the trail?” Godwin asked. I shook my head.
“His trail is very strong,” I replied. “He’s been here.”
“A Spell, then?”
“No. Nothing has affected these people.” I turned to the oldest of the group that clustered about us. “Are all the people in the village accounted for? Are they all here?” The answer was negative: some were in the fields, some tending the animals, some fishing. I ordered that everyone should be assembled immediately. There was some confusion and rumblings at the inconvenience. The heavy atmosphere had sucked away their normal openness and friendliness.
“This is the King’s business,” Godwin said loudly, “and you will do as you are told. No harm will come to you.” But he moved to his sword. I put my hand across to stay the threat.
“We’re in pursuit of a dangerous outlaw and we want to be sure he hasn’t taken anyone. Get everyone here, as soon as possible. Children too. I promise and give my word that no harm will come to you. My life on it.” The eldorman looked carefully at me and I looked straight back, holding his gaze. He nodded and told the villagers to do as they were told.
After an eternal fifteen minutes, it appeared that all who were coming were there. A small enough crowd, maybe three dozen. Three names were called out, two of which were answered and, in response to the third, confirmation from two others that he was on his way.
“Is everyone here? Everyone from the village?” The eldorman nodded and I felt relieved. I was about to thank them for their trouble and depart when a voice called out.
“Elfric! Where are you! Elfric, where’s my Elfric?” The voice belonged to a woman with a baby on her hip and a toddler hanging from her arm. She was looking around, curious rather than concerned. The crowd looked around themselves, under themselves, then to the further reaches of the settlement and finally to the fields beyond. There were no stragglers.
“Who is Elfric?” I asked urgently.
“Her son. Her third-born. A fine lad. Strong. He’ll be all right, probably hiding.”
“We must find him,” I said and dismounted. Godwin and Ethelred did so too and the crowd moved back. “We must look for him. Everyone must be accounted for.” Elfric’s mother was looking this way and that, becoming agitated.
“Elfric! Where are you? Come out here! No-one’ll hurt you! Come out from where you’re hiding! Come on now, Elfric!”
“He’s a wilful lad. He’ll have wandered off someplace,” the eldorman said.
“That’s what worries me,” I returned.
“Oh but, surely, no-one, not even an outlaw, not a lad? What are we worth? What can anyone hope for from him?”
“More than you could possibly imagine. We must find him, and quickly. Organise a search. We’ll help you.” I went over to the woman and calmed her. “We will find him. Where does he like to go?” She told me he liked to go to the pool just upriver from the village, and searchers were dispatched there, and the other two or three places she mentioned. “And where have you told him not to go?” She was calmer - with my gentle assistance - but concern was bubbling up again and it was with a shaking arm that she indicated the woods to the south of the village, on the hills above the fields. We headed there immediately after giving the eldorman and the remaining villagers instructions to search all houses and shelters - even the pig sties - and then fan out across the fields and nearby countryside.
We reined the horses in at the edge of the trees. I walked mine up and down the thick undergrowth that edged the fields and dismounted by a small, narrow track, no more than a dent in the surface, perhaps the run of a small animal.
“The boy’s been up here before.” I pushed in under the lowlying branches and stood again as they thinned in the gloom. Godwin and I walked into the woods no more than ten yards.
“Horse-tracks,” Godwin pointed to the soft ground.
“And droppings. He waited here a while.”
“Has he got him?” I closed my eyes and got a whiff of a numbing and consciousness-sapping drug. I felt the echo of the briefest of struggles and staggered into Godwin, almost overcome by my empathy with the recent events. I opened my eyes again sharply, shaking my head to clear it.
“Unless he left him lying here, drugged and unconscious, yes he has.” A quick search confirmed that there was no sleeping child there.
“How long ago?”
“Not long. Less than an hour. Not long before we got here.” Godwin’s breath hissed and he thumped his gloved fist against his chest. “No use crying over it. We must get on after him.”
“Which way?”
“He went off to the west, but I’ll wager he swung around to the north and headed for the Wall. The village fields are more up the valley than downriver.”
“Rough country downriver. Hard to cross.”
“Which may give us an advantage if we go the direct route.”
“Will you risk it? What if he went way east?”