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“We’re just looking for a good time.” The man laughed, releasing my wrist.
“I thought you were looking for fugitives?” Remy replied.
“Can’t we take a break?” another man asked, lifting his glass to his mouth.
“Yeah,” the first man agreed.
“It is a hot day,” Remy said and put his arm around my shoulder, beginning to guide us past.
“Hey, hold up. We’re looking for a girl and an old man, aren’t we boys?” the first man said, standing and reaching for me again. Remy pulled me back.
“I ain’t that old boy, and you won’t want to put your hands on my daughter again,” he said, his hand on the shotgun stock.
“Rick, leave the girl alone. She’s too young for you,” a large man said as he stood from the table.
Rick held Remy’s unwavering stare for a few long moments.
“Rick!” the large man shouted.
“Yes, sir. I was just being friendly,” Rick replied.
“Too friendly,” Remy said.
“Sorry for my men’s behaviour. What’s your name?” the large man asked.
“I’m Peter, and this is my daughter Mona,” Remy answered without hesitation.
“I’m Captain Tristian. We are looking for an older man and girl, think they’d probably travel through here. You saw any other old man and girl around?” he asked mockingly.
“Can’t say I have,” Remy answered.
“You know a man by the name Remy?” Captain Tristian asked.
“Sure do; a miner, lived in these parts all his life. He’s who you’re looking for?” Remy asked. I did my best to stare at his back and not let my face show my fear. Were they playing a game with us? Had they recognised us immediately?
“Server!” Captain Tristian yelled loudly, and a young man ran out at his call.
“What can I do for you?” he asked nervously.
“Know this man and girl?” Captain Tristian asked, pointing his thumb in our direction. The young man looked up like a dear in headlights, swallowed visibly and nodded. That was it; we were done for.
“Peter, right?” The server asked nervously. Remy nodded.
“And who’s the girl?” Captain Tristian asked.
“His daughter, Desdemona,” The server answered again.
“You Cal’s boy?” Remy asked. The server nodded again.
“Be on your way,” Captain Tristian ordered, waving his hand at us.
I felt like I might throw up when he dismissed us, my stomach twisting painfully with nerves, but Remy’s arm around my shoulder kept me steady.
A few more streets and soon Remy was leading me along a large riverbank lined with tall, narrow trees.
“That was my nephew,” Remy told me, “Back at the pub. He’s a good boy, must have heard me use his father’s name and was quick enough to follow along.”
“Lucky for us,” I said, a bit out of breath. Since we had reached the riverbank, we had been walking fast.
