***
Hunor had a reasonable line of sight into the kitchen from behind the wooden shelves and bags of produce in the pantry. Jem had managed to squeeze Emelia into the dusty gap with barely a minute to spare. His distaste was evident as Hunor flicked away the cobwebs.
The door was thrust open with a crash and four armoured soldiers entered. They wore the black and silver insignia of the Enfarsons. Hunor recognised Captain Thrisk, one of the baron’s Azaguntan guards. He looked muddied and irritable. In his hand he carried a large scroll.
“Jaan,” one of the soldiers said.
“Captain Soron. You’re a fair way from the fort. What can we do for you?”
Soron looked about wearily. Two of the soldiers began searching.
“This is Captain Thrisk. He’s up from Blackstone, chasing some murderers. We’re looking through all the farmsteads.”
Captain Thrisk passed the scroll to Jaan and then leant over the cauldron on the fire pit. He made an exaggerated smelling noise then smiled at Loral.
“Big pot for just the three of you.”
Hunor tightened his grip on his sword.
“It’s to last the week, captain. You’re more than welcome to have some. Do they have stew in Azagunta?” Loral said.
Thrisk didn’t reply but moved from the fire pit. He placed his gloved hand on top of the child’s head.
“Terrible crime, it was, just horrific. Dozens dead and the baron the only survivor. Black magic as well. Dare say the culprits would bring down a curse on any who harboured them.”
At Hunor’s side Jem was moving his hands ready for a spell. The thief gauged the distance. They would need to get to the child before the Azaguntan could draw his sword.
Jaan looked pale as he watched Thrisk idly stroke the boy’s hair.
“Where’s your other lad?” Soron asked.
“Up the hill with the sheep. Captain, look, I’m not certain who you are after but…”
“Captain?” one of the soldiers called. Both Thrisk and Soron looked around. The soldier emerged from a bedroom and flipped a coin to Soron.
“I’ll take the two captains, Hunor, you get the other two,” Jem whispered.
Hunor shook his head, “Wait... let’s see how it pans out.”
Soron held the silver coin up, twisting it in his hand.
“Eerian. Where’d you get this from?” he asked.
The silence in the room was agonising. Hunor slowly slid his sword from its scabbard.
“It’s mine, sir,” the boy said.
The soldiers all stared in confusion at the child.
“A lady in big armour gave it me.”
Thrisk knelt by the boy, a false smile on his lips. He slowly drew a dagger and casually patted it on his palm.
“When was that, boy?”
“Three days past. Me and Hinfer saw some travelers down on the road. Foreigners, but nice. The lady gave me a coin when I told her the way to the mountains.”
The soldiers exchanged glances and Soron unfurled the scroll.
“Do you recognise any of these faces, boy?”
His eyes wide the boy nodded and pointed at the scroll. “The lady. That’s the lady, sir.”
Soron looked elated and indicated for the soldiers to move out. Thrisk took a last look about and nodded at Jaan before exiting.
The silence in the room lasted a whole minute before Loral burst into tears and hugged her son. Jaan sat back against the table looking faint.
Hunor breathed out in relief and slipped out from behind the shelves.
“Is she good to move?” he said to Jem.
“As good as she’ll get. If we don’t get to her to Master Ten soon then I fear we will lose her.”
The thief nodded grimly and moved across the kitchen, sword in hand. He peered through the crack in the door.
“All gone. Your lad tells a good tale, Jaan.”
Jaan rubbed his face and shuddered.
“Too much practice with his brother. Hunor, you need to go. Take the top trail. They’ll be heading in the other direction now.”
“Aye, they’ll be going to Evik’s Pass via the fort. If we take your way we’ll get to Giant’s Crag by tomorrow.”
“Giant’s Crag? Take care, my friend, there are worse things in those mountains than the baron,” Jaan said.
Thinking back to the night a week ago he had last seen the nobleman, Hunor sighed and said, “Not so sure about that, Jaan. Not so sure at all.”