Blaise nodded. The sleep and food had given her enough energy to go on, but it was the kindness that truly restored her. The farmers watched until Blaise was lost in the night. It was not half an hour later that a horse clopped up to the farm and the rider asked after his poor, lost daughter. The tracks led this way. Farmer Emlin, roused from his bed, showed the man his house and barn and together they found no girl. The farmer gave the man some hard bread and water and wished him luck finding his lost daughter. “Bear right at the fork,” he said. “That’s your best chance.” And when the man was far enough down the road and could no longer hear him, Emlin cursed him under his breath for a blackguard and a murderer.

  Blaise was freezing even under Souve’s woolen shawl. She had alternated walking and running, pacing herself for distance. The fork in the track took her south again. Emlin’s admonition to be easy to find seemed wrongheaded but she followed it anyway.

  Blaise felt a strange alertness building in her neck, not heat but...something. She turned to look behind. A lone rider stood back at the fork in the track. He’s still following me. There was no longer any question of whether to make herself visible. The man was tracking her. His face turned toward her and she knew he had seen her.

  Once again Blaise was running for the tree line while being pursued by a mounted rider, only now it was dark and wild and the land was unknown to her. Her ankle throbbed. The chances were good that she would fall, that he would catch her, that she would fail. She thought of Emlin and Souve and Downie and Stenn and something came together inside her, a determination and resolve to see this through or die trying. She ran like fire across the moonlit ground. The spirit of the deer ran with her. The rider was angling across the field to catch her just before she entered the woods but this time she had a bigger lead on him and his horse was tired. She dodged onto a narrow path just ahead of the horse’s nose and ran on, branches and leaves whipping at her face and body.

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  The path was too narrow for the horse so the man was running after her now, mail jingling with each pounding step. Blaise lost her footing and pitched forward, attempting to run her way out of a fall, and crashed straight into the strong arms of another man. The catcher spun her around to avoid falling and then held her in a firm grip. There were more men and women here too, and with a leaden heart she realized they were soldiers just like the one pursuing her. All that for nothing! She tried to bite her captor but he was too strong to let her reach his arms and her teeth closed on nothing with a snap.

  The pursuing soldier burst into the circle of soldiers, sword drawn, and skidded. He heaved over to gulp in air. A figure on the far side of the circle turned to face them. Blaise thought she saw blood on him as he advanced but the moonlight leeched most colours and she could have been wrong. His face held neither pity nor mercy. Addressing the soldier, he said, “Well come, Baldrion. What have you brought us today?”