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this man only Marcus couldn’t decide what it was.
    Why was he walking around in the middle of the night if he wasn’t their escapee, though? As soon as he had reached the village, why did he not lie low somewhere and wait until morning?
    It was highly unlikely that there would be more than one man walking around a village like this in the middle of the night, Marcus mused.
    “It has to be him,” he breathed.
    If it wasn’t the man he was after, why was he walking around in the middle of the night, using the woods as protection? It was certainly an unusual time to be hunting game.
    Marcus watched the man stop, and take a careful look around. Once assured he was alone, the man resumed his journey. Minutes later, he disappeared into the back of a somewhat run-down house on the outskirts of the village.
    “Home,” Marcus murmured as he watched the door close.
    Settling back against a tree, Marcus waited to see if he would re-appear. To his surprise, he had been in position for only a few minutes when a short, rotund man appeared several feet away. Unaware that he wasn’t alone, the stranger studied the back of the house. He didn’t approach, or do anything other than study the property. Seconds later, his blistering curse shattered the silence, and he disappeared back into the trees.
    Now, who are you?
    Shaking his head in disbelief, Marcus set off after his new target.
     
     

CHAPTER THREE
     
    “Well, well, well, if it isn’t our elusive Benjamin Parkinson,” a cold voice drawled into Ben’s ear.
    Ben made his face as expressionless as possible and sighed. He took a long sip of his ale and placed his mug carefully onto the battered bar before he turned to face the magitrate’s assistant.
    “What do you want, Carruthers?” he demanded coldly.
    “We know about the brace of pheasants you stole from the Priory,” Carruthers declared officiously.
    Although he appeared to be in the tavern on official business, he spoke in a tone that was quiet and menacing. It was clear that he didn’t want the tavern’s other patrons to know what was happening, but it had nothing to do with preserving Ben’s reputation.
    “I have taken nothing,” Ben replied. “You have nothing on me, and you know it.”
    Marcus took a sip of his ale and watched the barmaids’ backside sashay past for the umpteenth time. He didn’t bother to respond to the flirtatious looks she kept giving him, primarily because his attention was focused firmly on the conversation beside him.
    He had followed the lad as soon as he had left the lodging house this afternoon, and was curious to know who he was. Not only that but this Carruthers was the man who had also followed the lad home last night.
    Ben’s attitude irked the somewhat officious gentleman, who puffed out his chest with indignation and glared at him. Marcus watched the man’s fingers twitch and suspected he was some an official of some kind in the village. He was familiar with a gun. He was, however, also poorly trained, bad mannered, and offensive. His demeanour gave the impression that he was more of a thug than a protector of the people. 
    No wonder Bamber’s contact made his way here. With this buffoon posing as the law around here, it is guaranteed that he won’t get caught. Marcus mused as he strained to hear over a loud blast of ribald laughter.
    “You won’t be so smug once I have you behind bars, Parkinson,” Carruthers threatened. “When I do put you in gaol, that sister of yours will be easy pickings.”
    “You leave my sister alone, Carruthers,” Ben snapped. He rounded on the official and glared angrily at him.
    “Keep it together,” Marcus murmured into the lad’s ear.
    He willed the lad not to fall into the magistrate’s ready hands. It wasn’t that he wanted to protect him in any way, he just suspected that this Carruthers fellow would cause more problems for the Star Elite than they needed right now. Before Ben could reply, a second man appeared beside them.