“OH! Poor Beth!” exclaimed Rachel. “No, that can’t be true: surely no-one in their right mind could possibly assault and rob a harmless old lady like that!” But Luke shook his head, saying “But he did. I couldn’t stop him.”

“Do you know how she is? She was so kind to us.” Rachel wisely chose to say nothing about the way Beth had cheated them, nor the fact that some of the money Simon stole was undoubtedly Michael’s.

“Give me time, I’ll answer you,” continued Luke. “We rode out of the village at a gallop, and continued for about a mile; then we stopped. All of us, except Simon, were visibly shocked. I made up some sort of excuse to go back for something I’d dropped; Simon tried to stop me but the others didn’t, and after an argument I left them. I doubled back as quickly as I could to Beth’s cottage, where I found the door still open and she was still lying on the floor, moaning and bleeding. I picked her up gently and sat her in a chair, wiped down her face and put a bandage on the cut she’d suffered, but apart from that and some bruises, she seemed to be all right. She recovered a bit when I gave her some wine: the strongest drink I could find in the house; I hunted around for brandy but there wasn’t any. I was still quite a bit worried about her, so I went to the shopkeeper and spun a tale: said she’d suffered ‘a bit of a fall’. He promised to go and see her and send for a doctor, and I gave him the money for a small bottle of brandy and asked him to take it to her. So then I rode back towards my companions. They’d started to come after me, wondering what had taken me so long, but I managed to bluff my way out of suspicion—I think.

“So we rode on. Eventually we reached another, larger village where the innkeeper remembered putting you up for a couple of nights: he also mentioned that you’d shown interest in and copied a map he had on the wall. This set us thinking, you might well be seeking a remote village or farmstead to lie up for the winter.

“But the winter was indeed rapidly advancing and it was getting too cold, especially for our camping stops. So, once again not without some argument, I tried to persuade Simon and his companions to return home with me and set out on the search again once the weather got warmer. We nearly came to blows, but eventually both Barney and Lee saw the sense in this and talked him round. So we returned: I to my mother’s house, Simon to the farm where he was working, and the others to their homes.

“We found that Waknuk and the surrounding districts were in quite a stir now. Everyone seemed to know, by now, more about the disaster of the ‘Fringes battle’: that nearly a hundred of our best men had been killed, including Joseph Strorm—and my father, as I believe. For a long time everyone had been too afraid to re-visit the battlefield to try and recover the bodies. But after some months, a couple of the braver men had risked the journey: but they found only skeletons, of both men and horses. Plus a whole lot of lengths of what looked like an odd sort of twine, which they couldn’t account for: nothing they’d seen before. They brought back some pieces but no-one in Waknuk—nor even in Kentak, could figure out what they were made of or what their purpose was. But perhaps you know?

“Later on the Police turned up. The ‘Mounties’, as they call themselves. We’ve never had police anywhere near Waknuk before, have we? I assumed they’d been sent from Rigo to investigate the battle, too—but I was wrong: they seemed more interested in the torturing and murdering of those two girls. They interviewed me and my mother, and presumably Simon too, but we had to tell them we knew nothing about it, and they believed us. They did pick up some men, though: I don’t know what happened to them.”

Michael and Rachel had been listening attentively to Luke’s story, and felt happy that so many points fitted in neatly with their own experiences—surely Luke could not be lying! It seemed that he was indeed trustworthy—though they had to be careful with him: there were things he might still be hiding from them. They asked him to continue. What happened when spring came?

“As it happened, the snows melted earlier than usual this year, but I expect you already know that. So we were able to set out once again, with fresh horses, not long after our return. First thing we did was return to the inn with the map, and we made a copy, just as you had. The idea was to sound out all the towns and villages marked on the map, to see if we could pick up any trace of you. I went along with that, because I felt sure the trail must have gone cold by now—but Simon was still governed by his obsession that you would be ‘found and dealt with’.

“So we worked our way through dozens of houses and farmsteads, each time drawing a blank. Although both Simon and I did get suspicious of one of the villages we searched: name of ‘Ragnarok’.” Michael and Rachel exchanged surreptitious smiles at this—and silently thanked Peter and Justin for their diligence. “I thought I’d picked up a few thought-shapes in the neighbourhood—although I didn’t say anything about this. I don’t know what aroused Simon’s suspicions—but it wasn’t thought-shapes, I’m sure of that.

“But we turned nothing up, neither there nor at any of the other places we tried. In the end even Simon was persuaded to give up the search, and we decided to press on for Rigo. After all, as Lee remarked, that’s where most fugitives head for: it’s easier to lose oneself in the metropolis.

“But I need to tell you of another incident before we reached Rigo. Simon’s horse had gone lame, so we were looking around for another. As luck would have it, we fell in with an old man on horseback. Simon hailed him, and bluntly made an offer for his horse. Not surprisingly the old man refused point-blank. Then Simon got in a rage again, he dismounted and shouted that if the old man wouldn’t sell, they’d take the horse by force.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“Something in Simon’s manner must have frightened the old man’s poor beast, because it reared up, throwing him violently to the ground, and then bolted…”

“Uncle Axel!” burst in Rachel and Michael, together.

“Ah, I guessed you might have known him. Oh dear, I’m very sorry, now I have to break this to you, but he didn’t survive. He must have broken his neck in the fall, anyway Lee (who has some medical knowledge) pronounced him dead at the scene. At least it was a quick end.”

“We already knew that he’d been killed,” said Rachel, “so don’t feel so bad about telling us.”

“Simon, meanwhile, had mounted my horse and galloped after the runaway horse. Eventually he caught it and brought it back to us. So we now had four fit horses. We couldn’t bury the old man or take his body with us, so we thought it best to leave him for someone else to discover. And we left the lame horse.

“So we came to Rigo. And, to be quite honest, that last fit of rage of Simon’s, which was directly responsible for an innocent man’s death, was the final straw as far as I’m concerned. I’m in your corner now, and Simon and his friends can go their own way. Though it’s quite possible that his friends—in particular Lee—won’t be his ‘friends’ for much longer…”

“ ‘Axel’s real name was Alex Stubbs, and yes he was a friend-of-a-friend, sort of,” said Michael. “He was Bill Morgan’s friend too,” glancing at Bill. “Yes, the body was found by the Mounties—the police. He was an old seafarer, and we’d been hoping to find him in Rigo, to ask his advice about getting a sea passage. We knew he’d be heading this way. But that’s all over now.”

All this time Bill had been sitting at the table, mute but paying deep attention to what was being said. But now it was his turn to speak.

“I was indeed a good friend of Alex, as Rachel and Michael already know. I have to say, any friend of Alex’s—even if they’re only a ‘friend-of-a-friend’—must surely be counted as one of my friends. I’d be delighted to help you out in any way I can—take Alex’s place, maybe.”

“Oh Bill! We’d be ever so grateful,” Rachel burst out.

“So,” said Bill, “this is what I propose. Luke, you go back to your brother and his friends: I presume you’ve arranged a place and time to meet up.” “Yes we have,” Luke cut in. “Meanwhile,” Bill continued, “Rachel and Michael will have to hide up here for a day or two. It won’t be comfortable, I’m afraid, I’ve no spare beds, but I can lend you a couple of blankets. And the rum will help keep you warm! Luke, you’ll have to play along with your brother; he’ll want to continue searching. Just make sure he doesn’t find this place.

“In the meantime, I’ll try and find out if there are any ships sailing in the next day or so. Doesn’t matter where to. What could be better, than convincing your pursuers that you’ve taken ship and are out of their reach? I think we might be able to fabricate a story.”

So Luke took his leave of them, after assuring Bill that he could find his way through the twisting streets, back to the waterfront. The remaining three looked at each other questioningly.

“Can we really trust this Luke—if that’s his real name?” said Rachel, breaking the silence. “He’s spun us a good tale, I agree—and it does seem as if he can read thought-shapes. I remember what your reaction was after we heard about Katherine…”

After another long pause Michael replied. “I think …. I think we just have no choice but to trust him. If he’s as good as his word he’d be a tremendous asset to us, putting off the pursuit. But that doesn’t mean we’re out of danger…”

“Indeed not,” remarked Bill. “You two stay here, that’s the safest. I’ll go out and find out what ships may be sailing. Oh, and Michael, Rachel, you have money on you, I believe. Give me some of it, then I can buy food for all three of us.” Without hesitation Michael passed some dollars to Bill. “Also, lock the door after I go out, and don’t open it to anyone but me. I’ll knock with a special signal: one loud tap, pause, three soft taps.”

“One loud; pause; three soft—got it. Does it mean anything?”

“Oh, it’s only what we call ‘Morse Code’ An ancient signalling system, really ancient: goes way back to the Old People I believe. We seafaring folk still use it sometimes: flashing the reflected sun’s rays from one ship to another or to shore. You can send a message miles, that way. What I’ve given you is the signal for the letter ‘B’. All right, my name’s really ‘William’ but ‘B’ for ‘Bill’ will do.”

With that, Bill went out, promising to be back before long.

Michael and Rachel could do little but sit and wait for him. Michael helped himself to another glass of rum-and-water, and insisted on pouring a glass for Rachel too. They downed them simultaneously: Michael was once again seized by a fit of coughing and spluttering, but, surprisingly, Rachel was able to swallow hers without any discomfort. Michael watched her in amazement, then he burst out laughing—the first time he’d laughed for a long while. Rachel joined in, and they both exploded in a fit of uncontrolled giggles, which ended in them locked together in a passionate embrace and kiss.

“Now?” whispered Michael.

“No, of course not! Don’t be silly! Bill could return at any time. And if anyone else comes prowling around, we’ll need our wits about us.” Michael could only agree, but he could not refrain from slipping a hand inside her blouse. He realised how much he wanted her, even in these anxious times…