“I’M GOING TO HAVE TO GIVE THEM A REAL REST SOON,” MADDIE muttered to herself.
She’d just called a ten-minute break, and the children sank wearily and gratefully to the ground on the side of the road. Maddie helped Rob down from the saddle. He thanked her and limped to the roadside, sitting down carefully to avoid jolting his throbbing leg.
Even he was exhausted and he’d been riding the entire time. The others were silent, almost catatonic. For hours, they’d concentrated on placing one foot in front of another, until it seemed there was nothing else in their lives.
Maddie went to unhook the water skin from Bumper’s saddle. Suddenly, the effort seemed too much for her and she leaned her head against the black-and-white coat for a few precious seconds. Her legs ached. Her feet were sore. There was a blister forming on her right heel, and for the moment, she could go no further.
Why don’t you ride for a while?
She looked up. Bumper had turned his head to look at her. His big brown eye was full of sympathy and concern for her well-being. She shook her head.
Can’t. I have to keep going or they’ll think they can stop.
Bumper trembled the skin and muscles of his shoulder, as horses do. To Maddie, it looked suspiciously like a shrug—and she knew horses couldn’t shrug. Once again, she reached up for the water skin. It was less than half full by now, even though she had been doling it out as sparingly as she could manage since they’d been on the road. There was another skin hanging from Tug’s saddle, but she’d used that first and it was virtually empty.
She took a swig of the lukewarm, leather-flavored water, then slung the skin over her shoulder and began moving among the exhausted children, passing the skin to them, making sure that nobody took more than his or her fair share.
She’d just taken the skin back from one of the youngest girls when Tim Stoker, who was standing in the middle of the road, at its highest point, called softly to her.
“Maddie. Someone’s coming.”
Her heart missed a beat and she hurried to stand beside him. He was shading his eyes with his right hand, peering away to the south, and she began searching in the same direction.
There was a figure just cresting the horizon. That would be the direction she could expect Ruhl and his gang to come from—if they had given up the chase after Will.
It would also be the direction from which she might expect Will. But she was conscious of his teaching— always expect the worst and you won’t be disappointed.
She looked at the children. None of them, aside from Tim, showed any interest in the distant figure. They sat on the roadside, heads down, elbows cradled on knees.
They were at the end of their tether, she knew. If that figure in the distance was a forward scout, if Ruhl’s men were just over the horizon, she would never get them moving fast enough to avoid recapture.
She scanned the horizon again. There was no sign of any other men following the first and hope began to grow in her heart. Nevertheless, she unslung her bow and eased the string in and out a few times to stretch her muscles. And she pushed back the flap in her cape that protected her arrows from bad weather.
“Who is it?” Tim asked.
She squinted, trying to see the figure more clearly. He was bare headed, she saw, and that wasn’t a good sign. Will would normally have the cowl of his cloak up. Her hand moved in an automatic gesture and selected an arrow from her quiver, nocking it to the string of her bow with practiced ease.
“I don’t know,” she said. But as the figure came closer, she could make out more detail. He was carrying a massive longbow and she could see the fletching of a sheaf of arrows visible above his right shoulder. The knot that had formed in her stomach began to unravel, and as the figure stopped and
waved, holding the longbow above his head, she started to laugh.
“It’s Will,” she said, with a huge sense of relief. She called to the children. “It’s Will Treaty. He’s here to take you home!”
Most of them were too exhausted to show any reaction. One or two looked up at the word home. But Tim was grinning at her, the relief obvious on his face. He alone had been aware of her fear that they might be followed by the kidnappers, and he shared her sense of relief as she recognized the figure striding toward them.
Maddie moved closer to Tim and put her arm around his thin shoulders.
She shook her head and laughed again. Will was here and now everything was going to be all right.
• • •
“You’ve done well to get them this far,” Will told her approvingly.
She shrugged. “I didn’t think so. We’ve still got a long way to go.”
They had agreed to give the former captives a long rest, to help them regain some energy. They made a simple meal of flat bread, smoked meat and dried fruit, sharing it out among the hungry children and using up all their supplies in the process.
“We can always get more at Ambleton,” Will said.
Maddie sighed happily. She was delighted to be free of the responsibility of guiding the children to safety. Will was so capable, so experienced.
Everything was all right now that he was here. She felt a huge burden lift from her shoulders as she turned the responsibility over to him.
“Are you sure Ruhl and his men aren’t around?” she asked.
He shook his head. “They’re miles away. I doubled back on them just before daylight and cut across country to catch up to you. Last I saw of them, they were still chasing their tails and heading south.”
He bit off a tough piece of smoked meat and chewed it thoughtfully to soften it.
“Unless one of them’s a tracker,” he added. “But the way they were blundering around all night, I doubt there’s anyone among them who could follow a trail. I had to keep showing myself to let them know where I was.”
Maddie settled back, the last trace of doubt wiped away by his confident statement.
“So we can take it easy?” she said. He regarded her for a few moments.
“We can take it a little easier,” he corrected her. “It never pays to take too much for granted. We’ll let the children rest for another hour, then get them moving again.”
• • •
“Jefe! Here! Here is where he doubled back!”
The Iberian was on one knee, studying the ground. He pointed to a line of almost invisible depressions in the long grass. Already the stalks were beginning to recover and stand upright once more. Ruhl could barely see the difference that the tracker’s experienced eye had recognized. The Iberian reached forward to a scrubby bush, where a gray thread of cloth was snagged on a branch. In the dark, and confident that his departure had gone unnoticed, Will had been a little careless.
Ruhl smiled. It was not a pleasant sight.
“Well done, Enrico,” he said. “Keep us after him and there’ll be gold for you when we catch him.”
Enrico smiled in return, his teeth white against his olive skin. “Sí, Jefe, ”
he said. “Enrico will find him. Just follow me.”
Ruhl waved an arm and his men fell into line behind him. Enrico quartered ahead of them like a hunting dog, bent double, studying the ground, following the almost invisible traces that their quarry had left behind. The man had made no attempt to cover his tracks, the perseguidor thought.
Although in long grass like this, there was little he could have done. And only an expert tracker would have noticed the slight traces that he left.
For a moment, he lost the trail. Then he picked it up again. The man had angled off to the left. He waved to Ruhl.
“This way, Jefe. I have him!”
• • •
“Time to get them moving again,” Will said. They had rested by the side of the road for over an hour, eating and drinking. Maddie and Tim had refilled the water skins in a small stream that cut under the road through a culvert, and there was no need to ration the water any further.
If they stayed much longer, Will reasoned, with the heat of the day growing as the sun passed its zenith, they’d never get the children moving
As it was, there were grumbles and complaints as he and Maddie moved among them, rousing them and getting them back onto the road once more.
As before, the smallest children and Rob rode on Tug and Bumper.
While they were assembling on the road, a young boy who was riding on Tug called out to Will.
“Will Treaty, did you kill the Stealer?” he wanted to know.
Will glanced at Maddie, a question in his eyes.
She shrugged. “I told him you were going to. He’s a bloodthirsty little wretch and he wants details.”
Will turned to the boy, looking up at him where he sat on Bumper’s saddle, in front of Rob.
“Not yet,” he said and, seeing the boy’s disappointed face, added, “But I plan to. Any day now.”
“Can I watch?”
Again Will looked sidelong at Maddie.
“I told you. He’s a proper ghoul,” she said softly.
Will shook his head and looked back at the little boy. “I don’t think that would be appropriate. But I’ll tell you all about it.”
“Oh . . . all right then.” The boy looked properly crestfallen.
Will shook his head, then called to the group assembled on the road.
“Come on, let’s get moving! Pace it out there!”
Still dozy from napping in the warm sun, they began to shamble northward. Will strode to the head of the line, goosing the leaders with the tip of his bow.
“Come on! You can move faster than that! Shake it up! Get a move on!
Show a little speed!”
Maddie smiled to herself. They were the same exhortations he had used on her when she was running the obstacle course back at Redmont Fief. And he’d poked her backside with his bow more than once too. It was strangely pleasant to see other people suffering the same treatment.
But it was effective. The children gradually shook off their torpor and began to stride more purposefully down the road. Will moved along the line, repeating his demands for greater speed. There were still some who grumbled or complained. Predictably, Julia was the loudest.
“It’s not fair,” she whined. “My feet hurt. I’ve been walking all day and I’ve got a blister.”
She sniffed loudly and artfully wiped a tear away. But if she thought that Will would be more inclined to pity her because he was a male, she was mistaken.
“Dry your eyes, princess!” he stormed at her. “No time for tears here. Or do you want me to leave you behind?”
By chance, they happened to be passing an area where there were more hillocks and humps in the surrounding ground, similar to the one Maddie pointed out to her earlier. Julia took one look at them, went pale and accelerated, marching briskly to the head of the column and striding ahead of the leaders. Will was a little puzzled by her swift reaction. Maddie said nothing. She still felt guilty about the way she had frightened Julia, and she thought Will might think less of her for doing so.
As the afternoon wore on, their initial speed and enthusiasm gradually drained away, and Maddie and Will were kept busy urging them along, demanding greater speed.
“How long can we keep pushing them like this?” Maddie asked, as she and Will stood by the side of the road, watching the children file past. Once again, their heads were down and their shoulders were sagging. “They look just about done in.”
Will shook his head. “They’ve still got plenty in reserve,” he said.
“They’re all farm children and they’re used to hard work. Point is, they don’t feel any urgency anymore. There’s no threat so they’ll try to drag the chain to have an easier time of it.”
“Kids,” she said critically, shaking her head.
He looked at her, amused by her attitude. She was only a year older than the oldest of them, he thought. She was really not much more than a kid herself. Yet she was showing levels of stamina and resolve and responsibility that did her credit.
It didn’t occur to him that her behavior was also a testament to the way he’d trained her and to her respect for him.
“Come on!” he roared. “Get a move on, you lazy lot!”
Those nearest the two Rangers looked up sulkily. But the column began to move a little faster, led by Tim Stoker in the front rank. Will nodded toward him approvingly.
“He’s a good kid,” he said and Maddie agreed.
“He was a big help before you turned up,” she said. “He was the one who took on the Storyman when he caught up with us.”
She had told Will the bare facts of the confrontation with the Storyman but she hadn’t gone into detail. She didn’t want to dwell on the fact that she had killed him. Or on the savage pleasure she had felt at the time. Such feelings still made her vaguely uncomfortable.
“Maddie! Will Treaty!”
It was Rob, seated on Bumper. He had turned back when Will had yelled for greater speed. Now he was staring beyond the two Rangers, to the horizon in the south.
“What is it, Rob?” Maddie asked. But there had been a shrill note in his voice that made her fear the worst.
“Someone’s coming,” he said.
