Chapter 16
“I did not kidnap you.” he stated quietly to the prince.
“Tell them that. Once they find my ring in your son’s pocket, they will -”
“You have a ring?” the man interrupted. “Where is it?”
“Peter has it,” Philip said coldly. “I showed it to him. I thought it would convince his feeble mind, and the dog never gave it back! If I had had it do you think I would have had such a hard time convincing those drunks that I was the prince?”
Michael wasn’t listening. Peter had the prince’s ring and if those soldiers caught him with it…
Philip, unaware of the advantage he was gaining, blurted out:
“I command thee! By your obedience to the king, do as I say!” His face was stern and his voice firm.
The hunter’s arm twitched. Michael glanced up at the dark sky and wiped the water from his shirt. Reaching into his sleeve, he pulled out a woolen cap and placed it over his sweaty brow.
“Does not the obligation to obey the king,” the father pointed out, “extend to his own son?”
A sullen silence followed while the two of them just stared; one watching the other, almost speaking without words. Michael wiped a drop rolling down his forehead. It was rain.
"Richard!" He shouted, quickly scrambling to his feet. Suddenly another name, far more familiar to him, was shouted from behind.
"Michael Hawkson!" A feminine voice cried out.
In response, the hunter turned, only to see a band of soldiers standing beside a peasant woman.
"That's Michael Hawkson there!" The young stranger pointed excitedly. But the soldiers were already heading towards him. Michael turned away and immediately fled - both in escape from the men and pursuit of the boy. But Philip was already gone.
"Halt, Hawkson!" A deep voice shouted. "In the name of the king!"
Michael paid the order no heed, save by quickening his pace. The horse too, excited by the commotion, began to bolt in the same direction as Michael.
"Halt, man!" The same soldier commanded. His voice was nearer.
The horse, dragging the wrecked carriage behind him, suddenly dashed in front of the hunter. Michael swerved to let him pass. Then came another shout - but angry.
"I said 'Halt!'"
Michael never saw the blow that struck him from behind. Upon his immediate collapse, the hunter was overtaken by the soldiers. All he could hear were orders issuing out, as several of the men bound his hands behind him. Struggling to maintain consciousness, the hunter raised his head from the ground. By now, the rain was a downpour. Slowly Michael's head fell again.
The darkness was taking him.
Through the fleeing horse's legs, Michael thought he could make out a boy in the distance... watching him. Perhaps sensing the hunter's gaze, the lad immediately disappeared. The hunter strained his eyes to see, but his vision was fading. His mind, still reeling from the blow, was slowly surrendering its consciousness. A clap of thunder shook him briefly to his senses. Michael was dimly aware of a strong rope being wrapped around his ankles.
“Blessed Mother!” Michael prayed, “Your prince is getting away.”
The soldiers yanked him to his feet. The unconscious prisoner could not stand and slowly crumpled towards the ground. A sturdy soldier caught him by the shoulder and slapped him across the face. Michael felt the blow but did not fully awaken. The soldier went to strike him again, when there was a loud noise. Michael heard only the thunder rolling through the air. The storm, however, was merely accompanying the shouts and sounds of a different clamor that was quickly approaching.
As if waking from a dream, Michael heard his own voice weakly murmur: "No, I did not take him!" And then with more strength, he said, "Stop! The prince is gone!" The dark figure before him, slowly becoming visible to the huntsman's eyes, leaned towards him. Despite his bonds, Michael shrank away, struggling to evade the stranger, who was now reaching forward. Unable to move, the hunter cried out.
"Stop! Please! I did not know who the boy was!"
Michael shook his head violently as two hands firmly took hold of it.
"Shh!" A voice whispered. "They will hear you! Wake up!"
Michael suddenly felt wet slap across his face. His eyes jerked open and he gasped in momentary shock.
“James?”
“Poor Michael,” the older man muttered, working on his bonds. The hunter shook away the heavy darkness that lingered.
“I have a knife in my belt,” he whispered, but his friend had already found it.
“Thank God that I found you! - ” breathed James.
“I already have,” interrupted the grateful hunter.
“- and I found your daughter,” James continued.
“Which one?”
“The little one with a birthday today.”
“You mean Catherine?” The hunter cried happily. His friend shushed him to be quiet. They were only a short distance away from the soldiers, in a wrecked house.
“George has her,” James told the elated father, who didn’t notice that his hands were now free.
“Is Peter with them?” Michael asked anxiously. The other man hesitated.
“Think, James!” the hunter pleaded. This waiting was like torture.
But at last, his friend just shook his head, “No, Michael. I don’t think he was.”
The father gave a weary sigh. Finding the last knot, James sliced its rope, unbinding his friend’s ankles.
“Hurry!”, James whispered when he’d finished. “We’ve got to get away from here.” The two of them sneaked quietly past the fighting men and went down another road.
“I guess those soldiers coming was not a complete loss,” James said cheerily, “Even if there is no prince.” His companion’s quick stride came to a sudden halt.
“Where is he?”
“Who?” asked James, somewhat surprised.
“That boy?” Michael said. “Have you seen him?” But his friend's face was blank.
“You remember, James,” Michael tried to revive his memory. “The one who knocked over your fruit stand.”
“Oh,” James frowned. “Yes, I do remember. I saw him go….” He squinted and peered around. “That way,” he pointed. “He was with someone.”
“With someone?” repeated the huntsman in surprise. “Who was it?”
“I don’t know Michael” James shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve never seen him before”.
The hunter glanced down the way his friend had pointed out. What trouble was that boy in now?
It was a hoard of pirates, who had inadvertently stumbled upon the group of military. Ironically, the brigands, seeing them bind a captive, assumed the prisoner to be one of their own men. With increased aggression, the pirates attacked the soldiers, seeking to free "their comrade." The soldiers, completely caught off guard, valiantly confronted the villains.
In the confrontation, Michael found himself suddenly dropped to the ground. His mind, still swirling with darkness, fought to see clearly the hazy figures around him. All about him, he could vaguely make out the loud shouts of the battle. Then he felt as if two hands had grasped him firmly and were dragging him by the shoulders. Still bound and barely conscious, Michael was incapable of seeing much less fighting his new captor. To him, it sounded as if the tumult was becoming more distant. With renewed energy, the hunter struggled to fight the blurry darkness that engulfed his mind.
