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Marcus had to agree with him. He was weary as well. So tired, in fact, that it was difficult to stay upright in the saddle. The work of late had involved long, arduous hours, and the strain was starting to show on all of the men from the Star Elite.

“What the hell?” he growled as he frowned off into the distance, and tried to remember when he had last slept.

“What’s that?” Joe asked, tugging the hood of his cloak over his head to protect himself from the rain that had started to fall around them.

“I am just trying to remember when I last had a good night’s sleep.” He stared into space as he counted the number of nights it had been since had been at Jeb’s father’s house. “I can’t remember.”

“Neither can I,” Joe sighed.

“What do we do?” Marcus whispered.

The man, now several feet away, took a bend in the path that led to the village.

“It appears that our boy is heading home,” Joe murmured softly.

“Or he is going for a change of horses?” Marcus replied.

He wished he could ride up ahead, get the man off his horse, hand him over to the magistrate, and then go to sleep for a while.

“Smothey,” Joe murmured, nodding toward the small road sign nestled in the undergrowth beside them.

Marcus barely gave it a second look. His gaze remained on the man who had just turned into the yard of a small inn up ahead.

The village was deathly quiet. The only sound they could hear was the soft snicker of a horse in the stable yard. Was the thief wait

ing for them to ride past? Did he plan to try to ambush them?

Marcus checked his gun, and flicked his cloak back so that it was accessible should he need it. With a nod to Joe, they quickly dismounted and hurried on foot toward the tavern. Thankfully, the gates had been left open, which afforded them a good view of the interior without venturing too close.

Either the villagers are extremely trusting, or the tavern owner is expecting someone to arrive in the middle of the night, Marcus noted thoughtfully.

He crossed the quiet street and buried himself in the shadows as close to the tavern entrance as he could get. His annoyance grew when he took a look inside the cobbled courtyard and found it empty.

“For the love of -” He listened for the sound of footsteps, but there were none.

Wondering if the man had decided to spend the night in a stable, Marcus swiftly crossed the road again. Before he got half way across, he caught sight of the flurry of movement at the far end of the street.

The man stopped still in the middle of the road and stared at him. Marcus wondered if he was taunting him. Before he could move, the man spun around and disappeared down a side street. Joe immediately left the shadows further down the road and went after him.

Marcus stopped only long enough to check the stables. As soon as he saw that the tavern yard was empty, and only horses lurked in the stables, he hurried after Joe.

It was a good half hour by the time he caught up with him, bent over at the waist, panting heavily on the far edge of the village. He knew from the look on his face that Joe had lost the man in the dense woods on the other side of the stream.

Without searching the undergrowth, there was nothing they could do unless they waited and hoped the man would reappear. He could, of course, go through the woods and come out on the other side. Neither man wanted to admit it, but they had effectively lost their target.

“I have no idea where we are,” Joe whispered. “I don’t know this area at all.”

“Neither do I. However, our man does. He knew these woods were here. He knew what would be at the end of this road, and it would give him the best place to hide.”

Joe had to agree with Marcus’ reasoning. If he had been in the man’s position, he would have done the same thing. Marcus would too, he knew it.

“Was there anyone out and about at the tavern?” Joe asked.

Marcus shook his head. “No. The entire village is as quiet as the graveyard.”

As if to prove his point, absolute silence settled about them.

“Someone is watching us,” Marcus whispered.

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