Miles Hendon ran out into the alleyway near the inn, but there was no sign of Edward. He spent the whole day trying to track down the boy. He remembered the threats John Canty had made, and it frightened him.
"The poor boy must be scared out of his wits," Miles said to himself. Then he paused to think. "No . . . Unlike most boys his age, he has bravery and maturity—I've no doubt he will escape from Canty."
It was well into the night by now. Miles found a nearby inn and quickly fell asleep.
Early the next morning, he lay thinking of where Edward might go when he managed to get free of Canty.
"He's a clever boy. Surely he'll leave London . . .
"I've got it! I am his only friend in the world. He knows I am heading to Hendon Manor! Yes, that is where the boy will go!"
Miles jumped out of bed. "I'll wait for him there!" He dressed quickly and started his journey home.
Edward, meanwhile, wanted nothing more than to be at home too—his home, the palace where he had grown up. But instead he was being dragged through dark alleys and backstreets again.
"I said I'd find you, didn't I?" Canty laughed spitefully. "You'll obey everything I say from now on."
"I obey no one! I am the king, and I give the orders! I order you to release me this instant!" Edward commanded. But Canty just sneered, pulling at the king of England even harder.
Leaving the city behind, they came upon an old barn. Canty made a whistling sound. The barn door creaked open, and a man in shabby clothes approached them.
The man eyed Edward up and down. "He doesn't look like much."
"He brings in more in one day than you make in a week, Hugo!" Canty spat.
"I am not some object!" Edward interjected. "How dare you treat me this way! You will pay the harshest penalty for this!"
Hugo stared at Edward and then chuckled. "Your son is a ball of fire! Maybe he can work for us."
"I am not his son! I no longer have a father," Edward said sadly.
"He's bumped his head or something." Canty laughed nervously as he pushed Edward into the barn. Edward withdrew to a quiet corner, covered himself in hay, and closed his eyes.
"I have to get to the palace," he thought. His present ordeal was unbearable. But what he found even more excruciating was that he would never see his father again. That night he cried himself to sleep.
Soon Edward was awakened by loud singing and laughter. To his surprise, the barn was empty. Edward crept to the door and carefully opened it. He cringed as it creaked loudly.
"Just in time to meet the others!" said Hugo, who had been standing guard.
"Others?" Edward stepped outside. Now he could hear music. A large group of men, women, and children were dancing and singing merrily. From their manner of dress, Edward guessed they were a band of vagrants.
Canty was talking to a man with an eye patch. Hugo pushed Edward toward the men.
"Come here, boy—let me have a look at you," said the man with the patch. He seemed to be chief of this gang. "Yes, you could be of some use."
Before Edward could speak, another man ran up to the chief.
"The newcomers want to pay their respects," he said, pointing to a group of men who waited in the shadow of the trees.
"What's their story?" asked the chief.
"Their farms were taken from them to be changed into sheep ranges. They begged to stay, but they were whipped and thrown off their own land," explained the man.
The chief nodded. "Bring them here!"
As the men approached, the chief stared at a man with welts on his arms. "What happened?" he said.
"I lost my farm and went begging to feed my children. For that I was whipped. Now my family's vanished, and I hope they are anywhere but this cruel place called England!" He spat on the ground.
"I am Victor," chimed in a man who walked with a limp. "I too had my own land until the earl decided to use it for his horses. The farm had been in my family for many generations. Now we have nothing."
"What happened to your leg?" asked the chief.
"When I said I wouldn't give up my land, the king's guards pushed me so hard I fell and broke my leg. It has never healed properly."
Edward could not believe what he was hearing. "This cannot be true!" he thought. "I assumed these men were hoodlums, good-for-nothings. Yet they seem to be victims of injustice."
A man with long hair spoke next. "I'm Peter. I escaped from the king's guards while being transported to another dungeon."
"With what crime were you charged?" asked the chief.
"Stealing a gentleman's watch," Peter answered.
"Did you steal it?" said the chief.
Peter grinned and replied, "Of course!" Then he grew sober again. "I would pay for my crime if the punishment fit. But I will not die for such a minor offense. So I'm forced to hide for the rest of my life. I can't contact my family, and I have no friends." Peter looked away, a sullen expression on his face.
"You are among friends now," the chief told him. "We've all experienced in one way or another the manner with which our king looks after his people," he added bitterly.
"The king does not consider us worthy of his care. But I say, are we not citizens of England also?"
"Yes, you are!" Edward thrust himself into the midst of the group. "From this day forth, injustice and cruelty will stop. I will not tolerate such things. In England all men will be treated with equality and respect!"
The people who had been singing and dancing turned to gape at the young boy standing there with his right hand held up in a solemn promise.
"And who might you be, little boy?" asked the chief.
Edward straightened up. "I am Edward, king of England," he said with dignity.
A loud burst of laughter followed. A few people came over to clap Edward on the back.
"Good joke, boy!"
"But I am telling you the truth!" shouted Edward. "I am the king!"
The chief wiped tears of laughter from his eyes.
"Obviously you need a title, and I'm going to give you one. Everybody!" he called. "May I introduce to you Foo-Foo the First. He's the king—king of the Mooncalves!"
"Foo-Foo! Foo-Foo!" People started chanting the ridiculous name.
Edward spun away from them, tears of anger and indignation filling his eyes. He'd offered to change the law of England, and all they were doing was making fun of him!
Still, Edward found himself feeling a grudging respect for this gang of thugs. The men might be vagrants and thieves, but they exhibited loyalty to one another.