«I… I don’t know,” his brother mumbled, desperately trying to think through his confusion. «We could slip out the back way…»
«Now wait a minute!» Curzad Ohmsford had heard enough. He gripped their shoulders tightly and turned them about to face him, staring at them in disbelief.
«I did not raise my sons to run away from trouble.» He studied their worried faces a moment and shook his head. «You must learn to face your problems, not run from them. Why, here you are in your own home, among family and friends who will stand by you, and you talk about running away.»
He released them and stepped back a pace.
«Now we’ll all go out there together and face this man. He looks a hard sort, but he seemed friendly enough when we talked. Besides, I don’t think a one–handed man is any kind of a match physically for three whole men — even with that pike.»
Shea started abruptly.
«One–handed…?»
«He looks like he traveled a long way to get here.» The elder Ohmsford did not seem to have heard him. «He’s carrying a little leather pouch that he claims belongs to you. I offered to take it, but he wouldn’t give it to me. Said he wouldn’t give it to anyone but you.»
Now suddenly Flick understood.
«It must be something important,” his father declared. «He told me you dropped it on your way home. Now how could that happen?»
Curzad Ohmsford had to wait awhile longer for his answer. In a rush, his sons were past him, through the kitchen door, and halfway down the hallway to the lobby of the inn.
