By the time evening rolled around, I’d managed to calm down my neighbors. As soon as I’d thought of it, I’d sent runners to follow the first to explain that the situation had been averted. Even so, several nearby landholders appeared to help, armed to bear and ready for action.

Some of them were genuinely concerned for my well being. With these visitors, I could offer my sincere thanks and the good news that nothing of importance had been stolen or damaged. Naturally, I didn’t mention any of my family were threatened. Justice wouldn’t stand for it.

Others arrived looking for gossip. These wanted to hear the whole story and see the evidence. After all, a bandit attack so near to the Duke’s seat at Emberwell was unheard of. If I wasn’t careful, the whole story would be sensationalized, and I’d be answering questions until the end of time.

The last sort of visitors came looking for glory or vengeance. These often had prior experience dealing with banditry, lawlessness, or theft. One nearby baron in particular turned up with all of his sons in his vanguard, plus more armed men following behind him, as well as trained hunting hounds. In this case, I needed to do more than just send him home again.

“Squire Deft, I ask for your leave to track these villains across your lands!”

Even though he’d addressed me without even leaving his saddle on my own lands, status demanded that I kneel to his superior rank and status. He didn’t seem to notice while scanning around the property, looking for evidence of the attack. Regardless, I could hardly refuse without suspicion. “Baron Able, you have my full blessing - though I fear the culprits are long gone.”

“We’ll see. Indeed, we’ll see.” I could see his sons hardened faces behind him. Apparently, his whole household had a personal vendetta with bandits. A helpful man to have around - if he wasn’t so deadly serious about everything.

“Do you really think you can catch them?”

“My hounds can track a man across broad water. Unless they’ve left the borders of our Duchy, I’ll have them gutted soon enough. How many were there?”

“”Two hands, give or take. Though there may be more. There was an old man on a mule that they used as a spy. He was dressed as a friar, so you’ll need to be careful.”

“Indeed! Bandits often employ ruses such as that. Pilgrims, merchants, clergy - they’ll take any guise that lets them prey on those who are unfamiliar with their methods.”

“I’ll wish you luck then. Since I have a smaller household, I’ll be protecting my own home, otherwise, I’d ride with you.”

“What about your son? Grit, was it? Perhaps he’d like to learn how to hunt men.”

“Not today. He’s too angry to think clearly right now. He wouldn’t be able to comport himself well.”

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The baron smirked again. “An important lesson to learn, but I understand. Perhaps next time he can ride with me - when the culprits haven’t wronged him personally.”

“I’ll tell him. He’s still young though, give him a year or two.” At first glance, the baron’s suggestion seemed like a good offer. Grit could make contacts, form alliances, and even learn some tricks of the trade. However, I’d only want him to take on such tasks with a cool head. Justice and spite don’t mix.

“Indeed!” The baron seemed to be stuck on that word? “I imagine he’s never seen a true battle before. Though, this might be his first chance.”

“Another time, you’ll have to forgive me as his father and teacher.”

“Of course. Now then, can you set me on their trail? Better yet, did they drop anything to give the scent to my hounds?”

I took him to the rear of the house and pointed to the crushed grass and hoofprints that the horses had left. However, we didn’t find any evidence. Regardless, his hounds were busy sucking up air in their large noses from where the men had been standing a couple bells prior.

“Your dogs can really chase them down?”

“Indeed! Nothing can save you once my hounds have the scent. You can’t hide, you can’t swim, you can’t even burn your clothing. There’s no escape beyond distance. If these are experienced men, they’ll run and keep running. Even if they split up, we’ll still catch one of them, and he can lead us to the others.”

“But, how will they know which scent to follow? This is my house.”

“Don’t worry. It’ll be any moment now. Just be patient.”

As they searched the grass, the hounds seemed to find something. All of them gathered around one particular spot, putting their noses to the ground.

“What did they find?”

One of the baron’s men approached to inspect the area, kneeling down into the grass to look. “It looks like blood. Was one of them wounded?”

“Ahh… yes. My son managed to stab one of them.”

“You didn’t say there was an exchange of blows. This was Grit? I’m glad to hear it! Perhaps he’s not as young as you think?”

I could hardly explain that it was actually Eu who had done it, so I just nodded along. Saying nothing would raise Grit’s reputation unfairly, but the only alternative would be disastrous.

The baron turned to his men, “These are my blood hounds. Can they track using the blood?”

“No sir. The blood itself won’t help. However, the scent of the man who was bleeding? It looks like he rested here in the grass. It should be easy.”

“Indeed? Then, set the hounds to track. My men will follow close behind.”

When the man gave a signal to the dogs, they responded with a chorus of howls. It was terrifying. It was like the gates of doom had peeled open to loose the angry dead. No wonder then that hounds are often pictured as the tempter’s servants.

“Fare well, Squire Deft. I’ll mete out vengeance for your honor.”

I was still shaking from the wail of his hounds, but I bowed deeply. “My thanks, Baron Able. May the heavens grant you favor and your enemies justice.”

With that, he and his men were gone like a whirlwind. They swept across my back fields, following the path leading to the woods beyond. Horses would be slow to move though the terrain, which is probably why the mercenaries had fled in that direction.

Regardless, it wasn’t my problem now - although it may become so later. It wasn’t just or fair, but my fondest wish was that the mercenaries could escape without harm. Alternately, I hoped that they’d fight to the death rather than accept capture. Not only would death in battle be less cruel, the’d have no chance to report the full story of how close they’d come to success.