Padric said nothing and turned back to the warmth of the fire. He did not sit or remove his pack and was careful to keep his hood well in place, this man seemed just the sort to believe in the curses that had plagued Padric his whole life. He could not afford to linger, for Rosheen’s sake, but departing so soon after arriving would only arouse further suspicion in the woodsman, a sort already slow to trust. He was a rustic and lived by a certain code, made necessary by the harsh dangers of the wild woods. A spot of food and a place to sleep by the fire would certainly be offered with the understanding that Padric leave at first light, unless some chore was asked of him, wood chopping or the like. To accept these things and steal away in the night was knavery at its most pure. No, Padric needed to leave before he took from these people.

Padric began slowly. “I hope you will forgive me, good man, but for my sister’s safety I came to you alone. Now that I see all is well, might I fetch her from the forest to share your hospitality?”

The woodsman leapt up and flung Padric to the ground before he could react. He hit the dirt face down, his pack bunching heavily behind his head, blinding him in the depths of his hood. His hands were jerked behind him and pinned heavily at the base of his spine with a sharp knee.

“Look here!” the woodsman’s voice was full of discovery and anger.

Padric felt the seax being drawn out of its sheath between his lower back and his helpless hands.

“Think to fetch your boys!?” the woodsman demanded. “More cutthroats to have done with me and mine?!”

“No,” was all Padric could manage, his face pressed awkwardly into the sooty earth.

“You lie to me, you bastard…,” came the calm promise, “…and I’ll do for you what your skulking lads had in mind for me.”

“I am not false.” Padric struggled for air in the gritty pocket around his mouth. “My sister…out there. She is small. I feared for her…came in alone. Swear it!”

There was a sudden, short thud next to Padric’s head and the pressure came off his hands. He pushed himself up several inches from the ground and breathed deeply. He turned his head and moved the hood aside to find his seax stuck blade first into the ground, inches from his face. He left it there and stood quickly, spinning around to find the woodsman facing him, empty-handed, with a look of calm menace on his face.

“Best go get her then,” the woodsman said.