The hunter watched George ride off and then hurried in pursuit of the boy. Whether he was really the prince or not, was a conclusion that Michael’s mind was not yet certain of. At the moment, the hunter’s only concern was the boy’s safety which, presently, was at great risk. Knowing which way he had gone was impossible. So, with a quick prayer, the hunter followed his best judgment and scurried in and out of back roads. At length, he found himself in the empty marketplace. Not completely empty though, for something caught the tall man’s eye and he bent to pick it up. A rose. Catherine’s flower.

“Please God, my Father” he begged aloud. “Help me, Thy poor son, who has lost his children. You know that they are truly Yours first. Watch them and protect them, since their anxious father is helpless to defend them. Dear Mary, show me thy Son’s will and give me His strength. I know not where to turn.”

There was a heavy commotion to the right of the kneeling man. Several masculine voices were heard around the corner of the bakery. As Michael rose immediately to face the pillaging pirates, his Angel Guardian told him to hide instead. Hearing this as only a thought in his head, he obediently entered another building. Just inside the door, Michael watched an assembly of ten soldiers march past his position. He breathed a thankful prayer to his heavenly protector. Once he was certain that they were a safe distance away, the tall man cautiously left the house, and hurried in the other direction.

Following what he hoped were God’s inspirations, Michael headed for the edge of the village. He didn’t see many people, and he assumed that most had fled or were hiding. Several times, he found a child wandering aimlessly in the streets. Gathering up each little child, he would quickly find a safe place or person to leave them with.

Once, following a nearby scream, he found a young girl carrying an infant out of a burning house. As he watched, a raider followed them out and was rapidly approaching the children. Michael immediately sprinted across the road and, having no weapons, tackled the man to the ground. He heard a knife unsheathe and quickly pinned the attacking arm behind the brigand’s back. The pirate’s free arm then swung back with a large stick, striking the hunter’s leg. Keeping his hold, the peasant snatched the wood and gave a hard blow to the buccaneer’s head. His struggling captive immediately collapsed. Michael slowly released his grasp and then pried the knife from the pirate’s clenched fingers. He slipped it into his belt and quickly hurried down the road.

Just as he wondered where he should go, he was stopped dead in his tracks. Retracing a few of his steps, the hunter peered intently down a street he’d just passed. There was apparently only one occupant, but it aroused his interest. It was a horse, fastened to a carriage, but rearing up in nervous excitement. It seemed strange to the hunter, since the animal was apparently alone. Then Michael saw the explanation for its queer behavior. A small boy came out from behind, trying to calm the defensive creature.

“Peter!”

There was no response.

“Catherine!”

It took all Michael's strength to battle the despair welling within him. His children were beyond his protection and sight. There he stood, alone and alive, without the slightest clue as to the safety of his own family. The sorrowful man dropped to his knees, then and there, still holding the wilted rose.

“It is his instinct that responds thus to thieves, Richard.” explained the hunter, as he drew near. Instantly, the boy spun around, his back to the horse. He was holding a knife. Michael smiled.

“You found your knife.” he said calmly. “Or did you steal that too?”

“Stay away,” the boy threatened.

“You really want to kill me?” Michael slowly approached him.

“No, but this should prevent you -” A clap of thunder shook the air and the youth’s nerves. The man stopped and glanced at the sky.

“Prevent me from what?” he asked.

“Stopping me,” responded the boy.

“From stealing?”

“From leaving,” he snapped, “to find my father.”

“Is that what this is all about?” the hunter said gently.

“It is what it has always been about!” the prince retorted.

“Is that why you ran away from home?” he asked.

The father’s words stung the boy like the point of a sword. “Ran away from home?” the accusation made Philip’s actions seem so selfish, so childish. Running away from home was something that rebellious brats did when they didn’t get their way. Philip was certain he was none of those things and he shouted back in anger.

“This is all Peter’s fault! He wouldn’t obey me! He was too stupid and trapped in his foolish ideals.”

“He believed you were the prince?” Michael asked.

“I am the prince!” The boy’s voice shook, but he dared not raise it. He stopped and looked at the carriage he had tried, but failed, to detach from the horse’s harness. His eyes turned and faced the tall, strong man before him, the one last and enduring threat to his liberty. And yet…

“There’s still a chance,” offered the prince. “Your family’s being held by my father’s soldiers, but you need only take me to him and I promise they will be released.” There was no deceit in his voice. His eager eyes were filled with hope that the hunter would help him.

“Why not take you to your soldiers and they will fulfill both our wishes?” the man reasoned. Philip frowned impatiently.

“They will take me back to the castle!” he yelled. Realizing this would only harm his cause, the prince quickly added, “Do it! For your own sake.”

“Even if you are who you claim to be, you cannot bribe me to help you. My family is already held captive,” Michael explained.

“But what good will it do your loved ones when you are hanged for kidnapping the king’s son!”