THEY MOVED TO THE TABLE AND SAT SIDE BY SIDE AS WILL laid out the contents of the hidden strongbox.
The first item was a rough map of the area surrounding Castle Trelleth. It had been quickly sketched, presumably by Liam, and showed little in the way of geographical features. But there were three villages marked on the map, all some distance from the castle. Beside each, a person’s name was neatly written.
Maddie leaned forward, elbows on the table, and looked at the name nearest her.
“‘Boyletown, Peter Williscroft,’” she said, reading from the map. “Who’s Peter Williscroft and what does he have to do with Boyletown?”
Will shook his head. “And who’s Carrie Clover, and what is she doing in Danvers Crossing? And what does Maurice Spoker have to do with Esseldon?”
They looked at the map for several seconds, as if expecting the answer to become clearer.
“Maybe they’re the headmen of those villages?” Maddie suggested.
Will tapped the name on the second village they had mentioned. “Carrie Clover would be a woman,” he said.
Maddie grunted. She’d never heard of a village electing a head woman, although it was possible.
“Maybe she was his wife?” she suggested.
“Maybe.” Will didn’t sound convinced. Again they sat silently, considering the puzzle. Finally, Maddie spoke.
“What else was in the strongbox?”
There were two other sheets. Will unfolded the first and smoothed it out.
It was a list of the three villages marked on the maps, with details of the relative sizes of each.
“All about the same size,” he said. “Large villages. Not large enough to call a town. Or to have any elected law officers.”
As villages grew into towns, they became more organized. Sheriffs were appointed to keep the peace. And a town watch was usually recruited to carry out the sheriff’s orders. Smaller villages tended to do without such hierarchy.
“That might be significant,” Maddie said. “What’s that final sheet?”
Will unfolded the third piece of paper, and his eyebrows rose as he read its contents. He moved the list of villages aside to study the map once more, then sat back, thinking hard.
Maddie leaned over to study the final sheet of paper.
“These are the names of the people from the three villages,” she said.
“And they’re not headmen or councilors,” Will replied. “Look: Peter Williscroft, twelve, and a date that’s three weeks ago. Then Carrie Clover, fourteen, and another date. Five days after the one for Peter Williscroft.”
“And Maurice Spoker, four days after Carrie. He’s eleven,” Maddie said.
“What do the dates mean?” Will said.
“Maybe they’re birthdays,” Maddie suggested.
Will screwed up his lips, looking doubtful. “Maybe. If so, they were all born around the same time. But in different years.”
“Maybe something happened to these children,” Maddie suggested.
Will looked at her. “Like what?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe they died. Or went missing.
Something like that.”
“Possibly. It’s a dangerous world, after all. There are wolves in this part of the country. And you still see the occasional bear.”
“Let’s assume I’m right for a moment,” Maddie said, “and they’re dead or missing. Why hasn’t anyone seen a link between three children from three villages in the same fief who have gone missing in the space of two weeks?”
“They’re probably unaware of it. Look how widely separated they are.
The people in, say, Danvers Crossing are probably upset about Carrie Clover.
But they’d have no idea that two other children of similar ages have disappeared from two other villages. There’s not a lot of communication between villages like this.”
“How did Liam know?” Maddie asked.
Will shrugged. “It’s part of a Ranger’s job to know what’s going on in a fief. We travel round the villages, collecting news and information, looking for unusual events. He probably saw this pattern across the three villages.”
“And someone killed him before he could do anything about it,” Maddie said.
Will held up a cautioning hand. “That’s assuming that these three are missing, or dead, or that something bad has happened to them. There could be a lot of explanations for those dates.”
“Such as?”
“Such as I don’t know.”
“But think about it, Will. It must be something like that. After all, Liam went to the trouble of hiding those names and dates in his strongbox. So they must mean something important. And somebody killed him. He must have been asking questions about those three kids, and whoever took them found out about it—and arranged his accident.”
“It’s a reasonable hypothesis,” he admitted, “but that’s all it is.” Maddie had a vivid imagination and he needed to rein it in. All too often with a situation like this, there was a temptation to arrange the evidence to suit the theory, and ignore any that didn’t fit.
“Let’s not jump to any conclusions,” he continued. “I think it’s time we did a little investigating. I’ll need to get some equipment from the castle first thing.”
• • •
“A handcart?” Maddie said, looking at the shabby little vehicle that Will had brought from the castle. “What do we want with a handcart?”
“It’s to carry all our worldly belongings,” Will told her. “We’re posing as an itinerant worker and his daughter. I’ll be looking for work and you’ll be tagging along with me.” He paused, then reached into the cart and tossed a patched, ragged dress to her. “While I think of it, you’d better dress the part.”
Maddie regarded the tatty garment with distaste. “Do I have to wear this rag?” she asked.
Will nodded. “Bit of a giveaway if you’re wearing a Ranger cloak and carrying a bow,” he said. “We don’t want people to know who we are. All too often, country folk clam up when they see a Ranger. What we have to do
is go into these villages and nose around. Odds are you’ll have better luck with the local kids than I will with their parents. Kids tend to talk to other kids, while they’ll be more wary around adults.”
“What about our horses? What will we do with them?” Maddie asked.
“When we reach a village, we’ll hide them in the woods close by. A farmworker would hardly own one horse, let alone two. Mind you, Tug’s not going to be too pleased about all this. He’s going to have to pull the handcart for us and that may well be beneath his dignity.”
Indeed, Tug was incensed when he saw the small cart.
You expect me to pull that? I’m not a cart horse, you know.
“ And I’m not an itinerant farmworker,” Will told him. He’d glanced around to make sure that Maddie was out of earshot before he answered the horse. “But we’re undercover, and it’s an excellent disguise.”
I’m not letting people see me pulling this.
“You don’t have to. We’ll unharness you when we get close to the villages. You can wait for us in the woods.”
And who’ll pull the cart then? Tug wanted to know.
“I will. It’s a handcart, after all. And people will see me doing it.”
People will see you? Lots of people?
“ Dozens of them, I should think. I’ll even wear a big straw hat with a raggedy brim.”
That sounds fair to me.
As it turned out, Tug pulled the little cart easily. It was quite light and even with Will on his back, he wasn’t overburdened. His pride was another matter, however, and he snorted angrily at Will whenever they passed anyone on the road.
Danvers Crossing was the closest village, and Will selected it as their first destination. They stopped on the road about two kilometers before they reached the village. They found a small glade some ten meters in from the road with plenty of fresh grass and shade for the horses. Will unhitched Tug from the wagon. There was a large water skin hanging from the rear tray of the cart and he used it to fill a leather bucket for the two horses.
“I’ll come out to check on you tonight,” Will told the horses. “For now, stay silent.”
The last two words were a command taught to all Ranger horses. It ensured that Bumper and Tug would remain in hiding in the glade when people passed by, and make no sound. Both horses nodded their heads
several times, understanding the command. Then Will took hold of the cart’s two shafts and started out down the road to Danvers Crossing, Maddie tagging along beside him.
As he reached up to place an old straw hat with a ragged brim on his head, Will was convinced he could hear Tug sniggering.
