“No, the Medicus was with me.”
“They do all look alike under those helmets,” said his mother.
Inam’s round eyes and stuck-out ears reminded Tilla of a weasel. His bare feet reminded her that not everyone could afford boots. She said, “Did Branan know the soldier?”
Inam shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything.”
“Of course you know something!” thundered his father, smacking one of the weasel ears as if that would shake a memory loose. As he shouted, “Stop sniveling and think!” Inam’s mother stepped in between them. “Frightening him will not help!”
Tilla reached for the boy’s grimy hand. “Why don’t we go for a walk?” she suggested. “Just you and me.” Dumb, Inam nodded and followed her without resistance.
As she pushed open the gate she heard Enica say, “Will you let her steal your son too?”
Senecio’s reply was short and impossible to make out. When she turned, the men were in earnest conversation. Both mothers were watching her departure, and she had a feeling that wherever she took the boy, they would not be far behind.
Inam shambled along beside her, rubbing his reddened ear. Tilla said, “Can you show me the place where you met the soldier?”
To her surprise he shook his head.
“Why not?”
He said nothing.
“Were you somewhere you were not supposed to be?” she guessed.
He shrugged and carried on gazing at his feet in the mud, which was still crisp with frost.
“I won’t tell them,” she said. “But we need to find Branan, and you are the only one who can help.”
Silently, the boy led her up the track that joined with the one leading to Senecio’s farm. On the way Tilla turned to see if anyone was following them, but the women had the sense to keep their distance. She said, “Did Branan tell you about something he’d seen at the wall lately? Something surprising?”
The boy seemed puzzled.
“Something that might be a secret?”
Inam was saying he didn’t think so when an approaching figure began to run toward them. It was Conn, and instead of a greeting he was shouting, “What are you doing with that boy?” More time was wasted while he took Inam away to confirm that she was not lying. He did not ask her pardon for the insult, and there was only bad news to exchange. Nobody had seen Branan.
Virana had confirmed to Conn that Branan had not been to the bar. The gate guards at the fort and the camp had been told about a missing boy but nobody had seen him. They said they would give a message to the centurion. Conn had arranged to have the horn sounded to call for help, and the family would organize a search.
He looked down at Inam. “You said it was that medicus who took him.”
The boy stammered something.
“He is not sure now,” Tilla explained. “And I know it wasn’t the Medicus, because he was with me.”
Conn eyed Tilla for a moment, then turned aside and spat. “Swear to me you don’t know where my brother is.”
“I swear,” Tilla told him. “I swear by the sky and the earth and the bones of my ancestors that I do not know where Branan is.”
“That man of yours owes it to us—”
“I will tell him,” she promised. “He will do all he can.”
At that moment they all heard the unearthly wail of the horn calling the people together. Inam’s eyes widened and his gaze darted around as if he were expecting warriors to come crashing out from between the trees at any moment.
Tilla could remember the excitement of hearing the horn as a child. Men and boys would be running across the fields toward the sound now, clutching whatever tools could be used as weapons. Women free of small children would be setting aside their work and snatching up coats and shawls and knives and fire irons.
The horn sounded again. Conn pointed at Tilla. “You,” he said. “Finish with this boy, quickly. I’ll be watching.”
“If you want to find your brother,” Tilla warned him, “you will watch from a long way away and not frighten him.”
Conn looked at her as if he were not going to be told what to do, then shrugged and stepped back.
Gathering up her skirts, she crouched down beside the boy. “You are a very important person today, Inam.”
He sniffed, not looking very pleased about being important.
“You are not in trouble. None of this is your fault.”
“Will Branan be all right?”
“We are doing everything we can to make sure of that,” she promised. “Why don’t you take me to where you saw him last, and then I can start to think about where he might be?”