Mist on the Moon

Taken captive

Justin wasn't sleeping well. Unusual for him. He could sleep on hay in the stable or at his parent's house in his bed. Or, in his mother's house, as his father was dead. Morning was coming, and still he tossed and turned.

Wait. Did he hear something other than the constant snoring coming from many different tents? He cocked his ears. Then, a high voice, cut off. Could it have been a scream? He was up instantly, his eyes trying to see something in darkness unlit by even a crescent moon. He looked toward the tent where he knew Cara was sleeping. Was the tent flap open? He didn't think it should be.

He carefully walked over to it, trying to avoid stepping on any equipment left near the different tents. Reaching it, he opened the flap wide and peered inside. The ambient light was poor, but he could see no one. He put his hand inside along the floor and then went in. They were gone!

He yelled. Then he yelled again. Quickly, everyone awakened, and knights staggered out of their tents. "She's gone," he said in a loud voice.

Prince Trent was one of the first to rush to the tent. He went inside, confirming what Justin knew. "Did you see anything? Do you know which way they were taken?"

Justin faced the prince, their height and size about the same. "I didn't see anything, but while still in my tent I heard what sounded like a cut off scream. I have no idea which way they went or how many came to take her."

"They cannot have gotten far," said Trent, turning to face the bulk of his knights. "And, they cannot have been a large group or they would have made more noise. Our scouts last saw the Magyars to the west of us. Knights, fan out in that direction and we should be able to catch up with them. Kill them, but don't risk either of the girl's lives in doing so. Let's go!"

Almost immediately, all the knights were mounted and off. Justin was left alone. He had no sword, no armor, and for protection only a large knife in its sheath. He would be of no help following the knights. An idea of a plan came to him. What if the Magyars had taken them in a different direction? Justin hated to wait, but he realized he would need to bide his time a little longer until first light of day. He was good at following tracks, able to see bent reeds and recent hoof prints in soft earth. There was no use in following the knights, but if by chance the kidnappers had went east instead of west, he felt sure he could follow them.

He decided to take all of Cara's horses with him, plus the handmaid's horse and his own. Animals knew to follow his directions, and he felt that he might be able to get closer to the enemy if they thought it was only a herd of wild horses approaching them.

He rested on one knee thinking, and when he looked up, light was beginning to brighten in the eastern sky. He waited a bit longer, for it to become somewhat brighter, and then he went to the edge of the big campground, looking for evidence of riders having come from that direction.

Then, he found something. Fresh horse prints. He looked down at them, knowing they could have been made by any of the knights. He tried to follow them to where they converged near tall grass. He looked beyond, walking slowly and looking intently. Yes, these trails were leaving the campground. These hoof prints were not made by the knights!

Justin quickly packed up his limited gear, released the horses, and leading them on, kept his eyes on the ground, following the recently made trail. Animals had always been his friends, he talked to them, and now they followed him one behind the other. Justin wasn't sure what he was going to do when and if he spotted the enemy. Nevertheless, he had confidence that somehow he might be able to rescue Cara.

He traveled without stopping, hungry, yet ignoring that. He hoped to make up time and come upon those who had taken her.

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