“Then stay behind me. Just in case—”
She did, once more clutching the back of his cotte. As soon as they went up the path, Alan knew Evan would not be inside—the roof of the place had fallen in. He let out a great whoosh of breath.
“There—" Annista said and indicated a small shed behind the cottage, overgrown by trees. The door hung crookedly but stood shut.
Alan did not like the look of the place. It felt—well, the wordsinistercame to mind.
“Stay here,” he instructed Annista once more. “Please. Let me check inside.”
“But—”
“Annista, I beg ye.”
To his surprise, she acceded. Alan left her at the corner of the cottage and made his way back.
The bottom of the door scraped the ground when he drew it open. Darkness inside, and as he saw when he peered in, an assortment of cast-off barrels and ancient iron implements.
No vicious, red-haired figure leaping at him.
“Alan?” Annista called.
“’Tis well. He is no’ here.”
“Then come awa’,” she beseeched. “Please come awa’. I do no’ like this place.”
“Nay, nor do I.”
It went that way for most the morning as they moved from spot to spot, one corner of the estate to the other, and Alan began to understand Father’s discomposure when he’d got home.
Annista uttered no complaint, though at length she must be as weary and hungry as he.
At last she said, “Nary a sight o’ him.”
“Nay.”
“The thing is—even if he circles around fro’ place to place, ye’d think we’d catch sight o’ him. Or ha’ word from someone else who has.” For they’d questioned everyone they met. And anyone living upon the estate understood the danger.
He said, “Let us go home.”
Even Chieftain was weary when they turned for the manor. Not till they entered the yard did the sense of wrongness impress itself upon Alan. Despite the midday sunlight pouring in from a now-clear sky, somewhat was very much amiss.
“Master Alan, Master Alan!” One of the stable boys ran up and seized Chieftain’s bridle, his eyes large. “He was here!”
Alan’s heart fell violently. “When?”
“No’ an hour since.”
Billy came limping out from the stable. Alan dismounted and hurried to him.
“Billy, wha’ is this I hear?” His gaze dropped. “Are ye hurt?”
“’Tis naught,” the old man claimed. “Master Evan was here. Lookin’ for—well, to be truthful I canna say. There was a tussle.”
“Wi’ ye?” Alan asked with concern. He had a fondness for the old man.
“Yer father came out to meet him. They argued, and when Master Evan knocked the master down, I got in the middle o’ it. He knocked me down also.”
“My father—”
