Dodinal looked around. Apart from the tracks they had made, the snow was unbroken. “Your people did not come even this far in the search for the missing boy?”
“They had no reason to,” Ellis said sharply. “Remember what I said? There were no tracks anywhere. Whatever took Wyn could have gone in any direction. We only have so many men. We looked but could not search the entire forest, it was hopeless.”
“No tracks.” Gerwyn sneered his contempt. “I don’t believe that. There is no creature walking this earth that does not leave tracks.”
Ellis’s face reddened. He looked ready to lunge at Gerwyn. Dodinal stepped forward and placed a hand gently on his shoulder before the man could do anything rash. Whatever the truth about the tracks, he had no reason to doubt the boy Wyn had been taken. It was understandable that feelings should be running high.
“Take us to your village,” he said, in a tone that brooked no argument. “Once we have talked to your people, we can determine how best we can help.”
Ellis seemed placated. He turned and led the way. Idris and the three hunters followed swiftly after him. Gerwyn gave Dodinal a venomous look, but said nothing. He waited several seconds after the knight had walked off before following.
The trees thinned out. Soon the travellers emerged into a clearing, blinking against the sunlight. Ellis’s village was a scattering of huts. One, noticeably larger than the rest, was presumably the home of the chieftain, Madoc. Nearby was a livestock pen, deserted and forlorn-looking. The village was smaller than Idris’s, with only a waist-high fence to keep out any predators.
Ellis called out and a dozen men emerged from the largest hut, armed with spears and swords. Leading them was a bull of a man whose cropped dark hair and beard were flecked with grey. He stopped long enough to shake Ellis briskly by the hand before turning his attention to Idris.
“You answered my call,” he said, grasping the chieftain by both shoulders. “I cannot thank you enough.”
“You have nothing to thank me for, Madoc. This is a tragic time for sure. When we find the boy, or whatever took him, then I will accept your thanks. Until then, you owe me nothing.”
“I cannot even offer you or your men much in the way of hospitality.” Madoc stared grimly into the forest surrounding them. “No hunting here, not for months. The last of our livestock is gone, and we will struggle come the spring. If the new season ever shows itself.”
“I understand. We have endured the same hardship. I have brought my finest trackers and hunters.” Idris introduced Dodinal and the others in turn. “Whatever is to be found, they will find it.”
Madoc’s men had lined up behind him. There were no women or children to be seen.
“I appreciate your help, Idris. But even the finest tracker will be of little use to us; there is nothing to track.”
“There is always something to track,” Dodinal answered, eyes searching the surrounding ground for the merest hint of a trail. “I don’t care whether it walks on four legs or two, it will leave a trace of where it has been. You just have to know where to look.”
“Then look,” Madoc challenged. “You will find nothing.”
“We shall see.”
Dodinal searched the forest floor intensely, Hywel joining him as he swept the area immediately beyond the village, the wiry tracker disappearing into the trees for a short while. When he returned, he shook his head. “Nothing, as far as I can tell,” he said in his soft and lyrical voice. “The only tracks to be found are those we made on our way here. Either they have their story wrong or something very strange has happened.”
“There’s always an explanation,” Dodinal assured him. “It is not always easy to find, but we will find it.”
Madoc had watched their search with a resigned expression. “So, you admit defeat. Maybe now you will believe me. Whatever took Wyn left no tracks. It grieves me to say so, but we must assume the boy is dead. We cannot let whatever took him make off with any other children. Will you help us hunt it down and kill it?”
Idris raised his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “If we cannot find the boy, how can we hope to find whatever took him?”
“We will split into groups to search a wider area than before. Even with your men, there are not many of us, but it’s all we have.”
Dodinal looked at Ellis. “You told us that other men had been sent to other villages to seek their help. Where are they?”
“They cannot help us,” Madoc said.
“Why not?” Idris demanded. “Surely they know we would help them if ever they had need of it.”
“They have problems of their own.”
“What problems?” The old chieftain was clearly annoyed.
Madoc hesitated. “They too have had children taken. They are too busy looking for them to help us find ours.”
The men were shocked into silence. Even Gerwyn, who had followed the exchange with sneering disdain, seemed to perk up and take interest. “How were they taken?” he asked.
Madoc looked at him curiously, as if surprised the surly young man was capable of speech. “I don’t know. Just as I don’t know how our children were taken. I just know they were.”
“Did the other villagers find any tracks?” Dodinal asked. He suspected he already knew the answer.
“Only tracks in and out of their villages. Strange tracks, like those we saw here before the snow filled them in. Then… nothing. It was as if something had come down from the sky and snatched the children, spiriting them away.”
One of Madoc’s men made a gesture to ward off evil. “It’s the devil’s work.”
“There are no devils,” Dodinal growled, and the man flinched at his fierce expression. “You can be sure of that. I have seen many terrible things, things you can count yourselves blessed you’ll never see. But there are no devils. There are the creatures of the forest that kill to live or to defend their young. And then there is man, who kills for many reasons, not all of which make sense. You have found no blood. Whatever took your boy did not take him to feed. This was the work of man. I would wager my life on it.”
“But for what purpose?” Madoc demanded.
“I don’t know.” Dodinal felt burning anger rise up inside him, and forced it down. This was not the time to release it, not when there was nowhere to direct it. His wrath was aimed at whatever had taken Wyn and the other children. None of them was known to him, but he would not tolerate innocents being preyed upon. “But I will find out, I swear. Now, where are these other villages?”
Madoc etched a map in the snow with his spear point. “We are here. The villages are here, here and here.” He made three marks, one to the northwest, the other two to the northeast. “There are others, but too far away to travel there and back again inside a day.”
“And each of the three has had children taken?”
Madoc nodded. “Two of them lost one child apiece. The other had two taken. Once their people realised what had happened, they kept their children inside and posted guards. No more were taken.”
“And were any of the missing children found, dead or alive?”
A long sigh. “No.”
Dodinal walked to the forest edge. He needed a moment alone so he could think without interruption. With no tracks to follow, a search seemed a hopeless cause, yet he was certain where they needed to go. Even when he tentatively cast his senses out and found nothing, he remained in no doubt.
It could not be mere coincidence.
He returned to the waiting men. They watched him approach with curiosity and apprehension. “We head north,” he said.
“North?” Madoc was doubtful. “We could set out in any direction and be no more certain we are on the right path.”
“Do you not heed your instincts when you hunt?” Dodinal asked. He waited for an answer, but none was forthcoming.
Finally it was Idris who spoke. “If Dodinal says north, then north it is. I trust his instincts as I would trust my own.”