“She’s gone!” Melissa called down the stairs to the small group gathered there. They had been playing Flotsam when she went to check on Sammie. Those gathered around the Flotsam table abandoned their posts and raced up the stairs to the bedroom and confirmed the news with their own eyes. Gerald took her straw doll in his hands and turned it over gently, examining it for tears or stains which could be evidence of injury to Sammie. It was her favorite companion and he pocketed it before turning the rest of the room over looking for any indication as to where she may have gone.

The great beast of a dog emerged from under the bed and sniffed at the pocket which contained the doll. “Good,” Gerald said, “we may be able to smell them out. Lead the way, Harrod.”

The dog was off, down the stairs and out the door like an arrow shot from a bowstring. Gerald followed closely behind, mounting his horse as he passed and taking up his bow.

They traversed the moonlit wood and Harrod kept his nose to the ground, sniffing the scent of his ward. Owls hooted their interrogative as the trio passed, a man, horse, and dog. Gerald kept his eyes and ears at full alertness in the low light, hearing every rustle of leaves as the rodents dove for cover and scurried under the leaf litter. Harrod made his way, sniffing the ground back and forth until they came out into a clearing and he gave a great howl. Gerald started in the saddle and looked up into the distance to see a dark form silhouetted against the moonlight. The figure stopped to look back and began to run in the opposite direction.

Gerald kicked his horse and the powerful beast took off at a full run, quickly closing the gap between them. He saw that the figure carried Sammie, and so deferred to the use of his sabre as he rode. He slashed at the figure’s arm as he passed and they gave out a cry.

Gerald reigned his horse and jumped from the saddle. “She does not belong to you. Lay her down and surrender,” he said, presenting his sabre as he stood in the figure’s path. “You will go no further than this.”

Harrod came in behind them and growled ferociously, lowering himself down against the grass and baring his teeth. “I surrender,” came the reply, “I just wanted to be with my daughter.” He laid Sammie down in the grass and backed away a few steps.

“Dalt?” Gerald asked.

“Yes. It’s me,” he replied, taking his hood down as Harrod, assured of Sammie’s safety after his inspection, rushed Dalt and jumped on him, attempting to lick his face.

“What is the meaning of this?” Gerald asked, confused. He had been led to understand that Dalt had left his family behind, but by appearances, Melissa may have not told them the truth.