“Are ye well, Iain?”
“Aye.” He took one deep breath and let it out slowly. “Aye. I kept my thoughts on saving the child. That is far more important than some fear I cannae shake.”
“And that worked for you. It always has. I was worried when I smelled the smoke. Too much like what set the fear in you. We all know the story.”
Iain sighed. “’Tis a fear I best conquer. It was years ago. There is no sense in clinging to it. Now, we need to look for the blood trail.”
“It looked to be a slow bleed,” Robbie said as he began to search the ground.
“Even a slow, steady loss of blood can prove fatal.” Iain looked around to see that they were just inside the stand of trees. “Ye cannae help but wonder why the mon and the woman didnae use the tunnel to flee.”
“I did wonder. I think the why of all that happened here concerns the child. Here is some blood. Looks like whatever is losing it headed deeper into the trees.”
Iain followed the trail Robbie pointed out. He was not sure a child could survive such a steady loss of blood. Slow and steady though it was, it was adding up to a lot. And why had the parents not at least bandaged the wound before sending the child off? He tried to picture the attack and slowly came to the conclusion that the parents had given their lives to protect the child. They had held off the attackers as best they could, for as long as they could, and sent their child off to safety. Had they believed the men were after the child?
“There is something odd about all this,” he said as he and his brother stopped to search yet again for the trail to follow.
“What is odd?” Robbie gave a soft cry of triumph as he found another drop of blood. “Found it.”
“Changed direction.” Iain frowned as he studied the stain and looked into the thickening wood. “Maybe the child was given a particular direction to go in. And it is odd because the child was sent off. Then there is how its parents were tortured. The men had to be after something verra specific and it had something to do with the child. Yet why would anyone be after the child of a couple farming in the hills?”
“Cannae think of any reason. More apt to be after the woman but they just used her and killed her. This way now.” He turned a little to the right. “It is strange that the men did not go hunting if they were still after the child. It doesnae appear as if they searched for it at all.”
“That would have made sense but the parents may have convinced them that the child was not there or even that it was dead.” Robbie paused and stared at the ground. “Weel, we may lose the trail now.” When Iain joined him, Robbie crouched down and pointed out the crushed grass and small puddle of blood. “I think the child realized he was leaving a trail and bound up the wound.” He stood up and wandered around looking for some hint of what direction the child took next. “So we may be hunting an older child.”
Iain stayed crouched down by the spot. It was easy enough to see where someone had sat down. Looking close, he could even see the tiny thread revealing something had been torn to make a bandage. What bothered him were the two footprints he could see. They were small but not, he thought, small enough to be a child’s. Neither was the spot where someone had clearly sat for a while. Then he saw the faint print of a child’s foot.
“Found another bit of blood, Iain,” said Robbie when he returned. “Reckon the bandage wasnae tied on correctly.”
Standing up, Iain shook his head. “Or there was more than one wound and the one doing the bandaging didnae consider it worth taking time to tend it.”
“Or didnae have enough bandages.”
“Possible. Where was the blood?” He looked where Robbie pointed and nodded. “We keep looking. I believe we will soon find the hole they crawled into.”
“They?”
“Aye.” He crouched down and pointed out the marks he had found as he said, “One set of footprints here and just there one print of a bairn’s foot.”
Robbie looked closely and shook his head. “I didnae see them. Good eyes, Iain. So we look for two.”
“Could just be one small child and one older one but, aye, two. Somewhere in these woods is a hole they crawled into to hide.”
“Then we best be moving again.”
It was slow work with only drops of blood to tell them where to go. Whoever was moving through the woods knew how to avoid leaving much of a trail. Iain hoped they found the ones they hunted soon, as the day was rapidly drawing to an end. The last place he wanted to be after the sun set was this far up in the hills near a killing site. He wanted them all tucked up safely behind stockade walls as soon as possible.
Then he saw it through an opening in the trees. One old tree had finally succumbed to age and rot. The top half had snapped off almost cleanly. That broken piece had fallen so that it angled away from the bottom of the trunk, its tangled dying branches providing a good covering for what could possibly be a hollow trunk. He was certain it was the hiding place he searched for.
If he was right, it was actually a well-chosen spot. There was shade enough to make it somewhat hidden from sight. It was not in a straight line from the cabin. Nor was it too close or too obvious. He suspected he spotted it because too much of his life had been spent making sure there was a good place for him and his brothers to hide. If he had found such a spot in his travels he would have marked it as a safe haven.
It was a good place to hide, he thought. The ones running had not run straight to it, either. If he and Robbie did not have some skill at tracking, they never would have found the trail to follow. The tree was far away from the cabin and, being in a shaded area, one that made it harder to spot.
“O’er here, Robbie,” he said as he started toward the tree and stared through the branches, searching for the opening he was certain was there.
“Should we call out first?” asked Robbie as he hurried over to Iain’s side.
“Nay, we dinnae want to startle anyone. They are afraid and hurt. They are nay about to step out and say howdy-do. They will either hide by staying silent and dug in or be scared into shooting at us.”
