“They were your men,” accused Michael. At this, the knight grew curious. Valdigard sensed this curiosity and quickly retorted: “Can you prove that?” The soldiers’ attention now returned to the hunter. Michael bit his lip. He knew he could not.

Valdigard said curtly, “On the other hand, it is you who had the medallion.”

At the sight of the crestfallen hunter, Cunnel gleefully added, “And your son had the prince’s ring!”

Sir Reginald turned to the captain, an inquiring look in his eye. The soldier quickly produced the royal ring and pointed out the boy who had it. For the first time, the knight's full attention was drawn to the young boy, bound beside the captain. Peter could feel his gaze and slowly turned away. Sir Reginald watched him wince, but could not discern if it was from fear or pain.

Sir Reginald's eyes went from Peter to the Captain. He took the ring and thoughtfully turned it in his hand. None could deny it was Prince Philip’s. And yet… somehow, something was not coming together for the knight. The hunter had used Peter to participate in the kidnapping. Why would this man expose his young son to the dangers of war?

“Yes,” Captain Martin explained. “We had caught this hunter, in the neighboring village Maristella. Shortly after that, due to the pillaging pirates, we lost him. Our suspicion had fallen on him, because the prince’s dagger was found in his house. Naturally my men promptly arrested his family. But it was not his entire family. Later, this boy was found with his sister, and both were identified to us as Hawkson’s children. We attempted to catch them, but the girl escaped.” As he spoke, the captain sent a piercing glance at Peter, who had evidently been the cause of their failure. “When the prince’s ring was found in the boy’s pocket, all doubt fled our minds. We asked the boy if his father was nearby. His answer was ‘no’ and that we would not find him there. After, uh… pressuring the boy,” the soldier chose his words carefully, “we came to discover that his father was last headed for this village of Fishersbrooke – in pursuit of the prince! We made our way to the edge of town and some witnesses testified that a man had left earlier that day on foot in the direction of Fishersbrooke. It had been several hours, but the time of his departure from Maristella accurately coincided with his escape from my men.”

“Yes, yes, yes...and so you made your way to Fishersbrooke.” The knight interrupted Captain Martin’s proud discourse. “But why here? Why this house?”

“Hawkson was seen to have taken a path to Fishersbrooke other than the main road. This led us roughly to the outskirts of town. The only building in sight, where we could rest and dry our drenched skin, was a tavern.”

Here, the captain hesitated. Peter watched his guilty face fumble for the right words. The young boy shook his head.

“So we stopped in and… and… after some time,” the captain stuttered. Sir Reginald raised an ironic brow, but said nothing. “We were able to inquire of the, ah, ... 'local residents'... if they had seen our man. As luck would have it, they did!” He beamed. “Unfortunately, the directions were somewhat vague. In fact, we would have nearly missed the house if this boy had not cried out when he saw his father’s rosary.”

Michael had been listening intently to the Captain’s narrative and at these words, he instinctively looked at Peter. Their eyes met, and the boy’s head fell in shame. On the contrary, a small smile lit the father’s face.

With broad shoulders, the captain continued his list of achievements until he had ended with the knight’s arrival. Sir Reginald, however, was far from impressed, nor did he seem at all pleased.

“One thing is lacking,” said the knight. “Why did Hawkson come all the way over here from Maristella to sell the prince? Why not make his bargain there?”

“It’s nearer the river for the Exthereons to purchase his prize?” Valdigard suggested.

“Why should he care for their travel expenses?” Sir Reginald insisted. “But assuming that he did, why did he choose here? This building. Is this his house?” The soldiers shook their heads while their captain stood thoughtfully silent. At length, Martin answered, “no” and in fact went so far as to say that the bartender had directed them here, because the hunter was looking for fisherman Samuel Cunnel’s home.

“Evidently a conspirator,” Captain Martin concluded. Again, silence, broken only by the thunderous storm, filled the room. The fisherman fidgeted uneasily as he watched the knight’s thoughtful expression turn to impatience.

“And which one of you is Samuel Cunnel?” Sir Reginald demanded. To Michael’s astonishment, Cunnel volunteered instantly.

“I’ll tell you!” he shouted out.

The hunter sensed anxiety in the kidnapper’s voice and immediately suspected foul play. Valdigard, too became tense and alert. His dark eyes flashed. He sensed the same deceit and his mind raced to the conclusion. This wretch would portray Valdigard as Samuel Cunnel, to save his own life. The foreigner gritted his teeth. Two could play at this game. As quickly as Valdigard had discerned the problem, he had formed a solution.

While the fisherman was yet opening his mouth to declare that Samuel Cunnel had escaped, Valdigard raised his hand in interruption.

“No, I will tell you!” The dark man protested. His outstretched arm swung down with its finger pointing straight at the guilty fisherman. “HE is Samuel Cunnel! And an accomplice with the hunter.”

“But,” Captain Martin scratched his head. “We found the both of them fighting when we arrived.”

Valdigard shrugged his shoulders. “Greed will turn faithful brothers into the most treacherous of enemies. I have seen it time and again.”

“And who are you,” Sir Reginald suddenly spoke up, turning towards the foreigner. “Who are you that you know so much?”

Valdigard’s resolute face hesitated. His mouth opened and then shut again without uttering a sound. It was as if his mind went blank and no coherent thoughts could form. Moments seemed like minutes, and each second of silence pressured him to come up with an answer. Up until now, his arguments and excuses had been logical and played well on the soldiers’ ears. Their confidence had grown with his words and he had become their trusted witness. But this delay was his downfall…. in more ways than one.

Cunnel who had, since the time of his betrayal, kept his hateful eyes fixed on the foreign prince, now grimaced at his chance for revenge.

“I will tell you who he is!” said the fisherman, turning to the knight. Sir Reginald gave him his full attention and a nod to continue. The traitor's back straightened as the accusation poured forth.

“He knows so much, because he is the brain behind this operation. His participation came only after I first conceived the idea, yes, but I swear to you that this man readily agreed and took over the plans to kidnap the prince.”

“Why?” Sir Reginald spoke quickly. A flash of lightening followed the question and filled the room with thunder. The knight’s intent face remained focused on the fisherman. A silent anticipation hung in the air. Michael, too, was watching Cunnel expose the Exthereon lord, when a sudden thought struck him.

“Why does Valdigard not defend himself?” The thought was in his head but, having not put it there, Michael almost laughed at it. “How can he?” he thought. His Guardian Angel humbly did not press the matter and a mild guilt touched Michael's heart. Stirred by almost a curiosity, he glanced over at Valdigard.

"See!" Michael smiled. "Valdigard has nothing to say." His attention had nearly returned to Cunnel, when a tiny glimmer caught his eye. Turning back to Valdigard, his brief smile vanished. There was something shimmering beneath the dark man's cape.

The fisherman raised a triumphant arm into the air.

“That man," he shouted, "is none other than - "

- Suddenly, the proud proclamation was interrupted by an even louder cry.

“Cunnel!”

Samuel Cunnel jumped at the huntsman’s scream and felt himself shoved aside. He stumbled and fell to the floor, watching the hunter’s blurry image rush past him.

Valdigard cried out as Michael knocked him to his knees and grabbed the arm that held the knife. In an instant, Michael had twisted this arm behind the villain’s back. A metal clang immediately followed, and the hunter reached forward to grab the foreigner’s knife.

But Michael had underestimated his enemy, whose strength and fury now resembled that of a trapped lion. As the hunter leaned forward, Valdigard pulled away and sprang to his feet. Now behind him, the foreigner gave a sharp blow to the back of his head. As Michael collapsed to the floor, he caught a glimpse of the Exthereon snatching up the fallen knife.

Several soldiers sprang forward and grabbed at Valdigard, but he threw them off like a madman. Lunging at the half-conscious huntsman, the foreigner held out his weapon for the kill. Michael, however, without a glance, rolled aside and let his enemy land beside him on the floor.

The soldiers, taking advantage of Valdigard’s miss, pounced again on the foreign prince. The lion, however, was not put off and he struggled to his feet. Firmly planted against their efforts, Valdigard shoved two of the men aside and raised his arm, knife in hand. His eyes met Michael’s for a brief instant. That look was all Michael needed. But before he could defend himself, a blinding flash of lightening shut his eyes.

In the darkness, Michael suddenly heard the high pitch, rapid sound of scraping metal, followed by a dull thud...

The rolling thunder, lost amidst the previous din, now rumbled through the sudden silence. The hunter looked down and saw the knife - intended for his heart - wobbling at his feet. Slowly, he leaned back and peered up at the scene before him.

Valdigard, held between two men, was furiously glaring at the knight, whose quick sword had interrupted his dagger’s path.

“I believe,” Sir Reginald addressed the fisherman, “you were going to introduce our friend here.”

Cunnel, however, still stood dumbfounded, staring down at Michael. The question aroused him from his shock and he continued, although with less drama.

“That man is Valdigard, brother to Missetheon, lord of Exthereous.”

A gasp ran through the soldiers, starting with Captain Martin whose shock was inexpressible.