But of what use would that be to Solonika, if, as I strongly suspected, General Palmora and Nicholas were in the plot. True, they might rescue me from the dangers of the forest, but they would not help me rescue the Prince.
Not so fast. Perhaps I might be doing my two friends an injustice in thus accusing them. After all, the men I had seen might be highwaymen. A highwayman's calling in all Balkan countries, I knew, was an ancient and an honourable one, because he never robs his own countrymen but preys upon the inhabitants of border states; also because he is a well-trained rider and a valuable cavalryman in time of war—which in this section of eastern Europe is nearly all the time. But, if the Prince's captors were highwaymen after a rich bounty from the government for the return of the future king on the eve of the coronation, they were the most gentlemanly brigands that ever sat astride a horse. The highwaymen idea was not tenable. Even in Catholic countries, robbers do not go about with large Greek crosses of gold suspended from their necks. The words of the General came back to me.
"The oath of the Duke of Marbosa. Only three days are left."
Three days to the coronation, that was it. The oath of Marbosa? Perhaps the Duke had sworn that Prince Raoul should never be king. Oh, why had I not paid closer attention to the politics of this infernal country? I would know then what this meant; I would not be compelled to guess. Surely politics was behind the kidnapping of the Prince. It was evident, too, that the movement did not have the active support of my two friends, although the General and Nicholas might be forced by stress of circumstances passively to acquiesce. But what did the Order of the Cross hope to gain thereby? It was possible that they were counting upon the feeling of resentment which the populace would naturally feel if the Prince failed to appear at the Cathedral. An insult like that might go far toward changing the succession at the last moment. If that were so, the Order of the Cross, or some of its members at least, were not pleased with the son of the Red Fox as the next ruler. It would necessarily follow that they had another favourite.
The General was not enthusiastic over the heir of Dhalmatia, but he did not seem to have an interest in this affair. If my conclusions were sound, Palmora would have led the men who did it. Evidently they were not sound. Besides, I had never heard him speak of a possible successor of the Prince and, if there had been one, I ought to have heard of it.
Whatever was in the wind, I felt much relieved. If, as I suspected, the Prince was in the hands of the nobles, he had nothing to fear from personal insult. But I trembled to think of his position if his captors learned the truth concerning his sex.
Growing darkness warned me that I must think of my own safety. My position in the wild forest of Zin was fraught with danger. With returning strength, I gathered up my useless boar spear, my only weapon of defence and, going forward, examined the ground where I had last seen the Prince. Here I found the hoof marks of the four horses, galloping side by side, plainly visible, leading off toward the west. It was an easy trail to follow. I recalled that the greatest length of the forest was from the north to the south. If one wished to leave the woods, the quickest course would be to the east or west.
A strong wind forced its way through the tree tops with a moaning sound. Its cold blast chilled me as it blew in my face; its voice was like the voice of a lost soul, wandering forever through the gloom around me. The sun dipped below the trees. If I would follow after the Princess I must hurry, for the light would soon be gone. Mile after mile I walked and ran, keeping my eyes on the ground, bending lower and lower as the darkness fell. Finally I could see the hoof marks no longer.
How I rebelled against my fate. How I cursed the night, and how it seemed to answer with its thousand voices, reiterating the one awful word "Lost." Oh, the wasted hours I had lain unconscious in the woods while Marbosa's men were carrying their prize farther and farther away. Crushed and hopeless though I was, I would not give up. There must be some way to follow the trail even in the dark. But how? How?
I raised my head and looked about. Interminable forest surrounded me on all sides. Nothing but giant oaks met my limited view on every side. To my heightened imagination they seemed to stretch their crooked arms as if to crush me in their bony embrace.