The first thing Borysko noticed upon waking was his King, tears flooding down his face, obviously in utter misery. The second thing was probably the cause of the first; Drakon was gone. It took little to realise the cause of that; the memory surfaced from the mists of sleep, the memory of a girl's face staring into his own. Urska's face.
"Urska took him," he groaned; at once, Alastor had gripped his shoulders.
"You know who took my son?" he growled, shaking the warrior as though he were a recalcitrant child; Borysko was too startled to resist. "Tell me! Who is the spirit who took my Drakon?"
"Sir!" Borysko hissed, gripping the man's arm. "Quieter! Or you'll wake the whole camp. The one who took Drakon is no spirit; she is a bear in the shape of a girl, her name is Urska. Your son caused her change; she seeks to make him change her back. That is why she took him. She will not hurt him; it will defeat her purpose."
The dispossessed king's eyes searched his face for the slightest sign of mistruth; eventually he stepped back, and dashed his hand across his eyes.
"I believe you," he said gruffly, turning away. "But we must go after them. Whether or not she will hurt him she cannot be allowed to take him away from me once again."
He turned, and shot Borysko a sharp look.
"You will come with me, won't you?"
Borysko shrugged hopelessly, knowing that a refusal would only lead to trouble. And he did want to find Urska and the boy. He only wished the beargirl had more sense than outright kidnap.
"Of course, sir."
The pair were about to slip away into the bushes, following the trail of big Marron, when Alastor looked back and remember the silver-haired spy.
"Hah! We cannot leave this fellow behind. He is a foul rogue and he, or someone very like him, has corrupted Berengar."
Borysko stared at him for a second, and then recognition sparked in his mind. He snorted and shook his head.
"Besides, he is supposed to be dead. Wake up, man; tell us how you escaped the soldiers."
Donovan gave up feigning sleep, and sat up, pushing his hair from his face and giving his captors a look of flat dislike.
"It was not hard. Soldiers are unobservant, and your son, sir, did not have the guts to do it himself."
Alastor rumbled anger, but Borysko put out a hand and pushed him back.
"We will bring him with us; make him a collar and a leash. He must have information, both about Berengar and about his dear beloved sister."
"Khoreia? Where is she? Do you have her held captive also?" Donovan asked mockingly, knowing that they didn't. His sister would not stand captivity for long. Borysko's thunderous look gave him his answer, and he laughed.
"Take me with you if you must. I shall escape, of course. Isn't that how it always goes with members of my family?"
The blow took him by surprise; he was knocked sideways, out cold. Borysko spat and stepped back.
"Sir, find something to make a collar and leash. We'll have to take him with us."