[i]Spitted, hmm?[/i] Vatikar thought to himself as he gripped the chariot's reigns in his hands.  [i]Fret not; I'll make a [/i]rotisserie[i] out of you soon enough, elf.[/i]

"So you are a conjuror too?" Vatikar asked aloud. "I did not expect our guide to be so useful. Do whatever you wish to assist my men-at-arms and I, but do not put yourself in undo danger. The men under my charge are capable enough of bringing this runaway back to our lord and dispatching whatever remains of this Revolt. The runt Zula - the commander of this insurrection - was an easy opponent. Any survivors stand little chance against me."

"Hold!" One of the hat-donning riders cried up ahead, yanking hard on the reigns of his steed and pulling it to a bucking stop. The other riders stopped in the middle of the road before dismounting at once. Vatikar slowed his chariot to a stop, permitting himself and Assallya to step out and survey their surroundings.

"Do you lot not understand that time is of the essence?" Vatikar bellowed. "Why have we stopped?"

"Look, sire," One of the dismounted Black Hats said, pointing to the roadside. Embedded in the trunks of the trees beside the road were a number of arrows, and several men laid lifeless in blood-stained patches of snow.

"They've all got black armbands, sir,." one of the Black Hats reported, standing back upright after inspecting a pair of fallen soldiers. "These are his majesty's men."

"Steel bodkins," another declared upon yanking an arrow out of the chest of a fallen soldier. "Whoever killed these lads was no mere highwayman."

"Brigands would've stripped them of everything of value: arrows, boots, daggers. 'Sides, they'd have to be a brave or stupid bunch to attack the lord's men within three leagues of his majesty's keep."

"It would seem we have found the place of the ambush," Vatikar surmised as he twirled a stray arrow in his gauntlet-clad fingers. "Is there any sign of where the perpetrators may have gone?"

"None, sire. It seems that there was a fair amount of snowfall since the attack. I'm afraid there are no tracks to be found."

"Then it is doubtful that they covered much ground in such conditions," the dread knight deduced, snapping the arrow shaft between his fingers before carelessly tossing it aside into the snow. "Is there not a hamlet near this place?"

"Yes, sire," one of the riders affirmed. "The village of Grayweald is perhaps a half league to the south of here."

"Let us go there," Vatikar announced as he pulled Assallya back into the chariot. "I suspect we will find our missing prisoner in this village or somewhere close. If so, the elf should be close enough to ferret the escapee out."

With a whip of the reigns of the chariot, Vatikar, Assallya, and the Black Hats were on their way to Grayweald.