"Simon?" he gasped. "What are you doing here? Where's Brianna?"
"We're at the Earls Bridge," the cleric explained, his voice soft and patient. Still pouring wine over his staff, he continued, "You suffered a wound-"
"My wounds aren't important!" Morten said. "What of the princess?"
The bodyguard pushed himself into a sitting position, but lacked the strength to stay there and promptly crashed back to the ground. "What of Lady Brianna?" he demanded again.
Camden stepped to the firbolg's side. "We were hoping you could tell us," he said. The king waved his hand at Tavis. Basil, and Avner. "These three found you on Coggin's Rise. My daughter wasn't there."
Morten turned his head to glare at Tavis. The firbolgs eyes were ashamed and angry, as one might expect of a loyal bodyguard who had just learned of his failure, but they also seemed strangely glazed, as though the pain of his injuries had dulled his mind.
"You!" Again Morten tried to rise. "I'll kill you myself!"
Camden gently pushed the firbolg back down. "Why should you want to kill Tavis?"
Morten continued to glare at Tavis. "He betrayed Brianna." the bodyguard declared. "The knave's been using her to protect his den of thieves, and today she learned the truth."
"Tavis?" Camden asked.
Gasps of astonishment and disbelief droned through the king's entourage, with Earl Wendel's voice loudest of all. "Impossible!" he declared. I've known Tavis Burdun for a decade. He'd never do something like that."
As the earl was speaking in his defense. Tavis heard Basil and Avner whispering to each other behind him, obviously concerned by the turn the conversation had taken.
"Stay where you are, scofflaws!" Tavis hissed, speaking over his shoulder. "Running will do no good now."
After allowing the drone to continue for a moment, the king raised his hands for silence. Looking to Tavis, he demanded, "What of Morten's charge?" Then, almost as an afterthought, he also asked, "How does it concern my daughter's disappearance?"
"Some books were taken from Earl Dobbin, and the thief sought refuge in my inn," Tavis admitted. "But I knew nothing about it until afterward, and I speak honestly when I say the incident has nothing to do with Brianna's disappearance."
"You can't believe him," Morten scoffed.
"Why not?" demanded Wendel. "Firbolgs can't lie."
"That runt's no firbolg!" Morten bellowed. He managed to push himself into a seated position and stay mere. "Just look at how small and skinny he is. You can tell he was raised on human food, and on human lies!"
Camden frowned thoughtfully. "Morten might have a point there," he allowed. "But I don't see how it concerns Brianna. Even if he wanted to silence her, he hardly had the time to call a pack of ogres."
Bjordrek stepped to the king's side. "True, sire. But who else could treat with ogres?" He spoke quietly, his gray eyes fixed on the scout. "Only Tavis has the skill to find their home and survive long enough to strike an agreement."
"That's ridiculous!" objected Wendel. "Tavis is no thief, or be wouldn't have brought Morten here. It would've been simpler to leave the oaf for dead."
Morten scowled at this. "Tavis Burdun was hiding Earl Dobbin's stolen books. If that doesn't make him a thief, nothing does," the bodyguard declared. "Why he saved me, I don't know."
"It appears there are a great many things we don't know, and it may take some time to sort them out," the king said. "Until we do, Tavis and his friends shall remain at Castle Hartwick."
A knot formed in Tavis's stomach. "What of Princess Brianna?" he demanded.
"She is not your concern. Now do as I command." Camden's eyes grew hard, and for the first time he glanced at the scout's famous bow. "Or will you take arms against your lawful liege?"
Suddenly, Bear Driller felt heavier than anything Tavis had ever held in his hands. The scout had no idea whether he could loose an arrow at his own king, but he knew that obeying Camden's order would mean Brianna's loss-and he could not allow that, any more than he could lie. "I won't abandon Brianna," he said.
"Then you are an outlaw." Camden stepped back behind Hauk's sentries, pointing a finger at the scout. "Seize him."
Bjordrek's eyes grew round. "But Your Majesty, if he-"
"No firbolg would fire on his liege." The king motioned Hauk forward. "Even a firbolg thief."
As the sergeant and his men moved to obey, Tavis nocked his arrow and in one swift motion raised Bear Driller into firing position. Basil gasped. Avner cheered, and Hauk's sentries stopped in their tracks. Several earls pulled small dress swords from their belts, and Morten managed to drag himself to his feet.
"Go on." the bodyguard said. "He can only kill one of you."
Tavis loosed Bear Driller's bowstring. The arrow hissed past Camden's head, passing so close the fletching brushed the royal ear, then shot out over the Clearwhirl's chasm. Before the color could drain from the cheeks of the astonished king, the scout was pulling another shaft from his quiver. Behind him, he heard Basil's flat feet running up the road. Avner seemed to be staying close at hand.
"I'm no thief." Tavis said, nocking his arrow. "But I'll do what I must to save Brianna-even it means defying my king."
"Traitor!" Morten shouted. "This will cost you your head!"
"Perhaps, but only after the princess is safe," the scout replied. Then, without shifting his gaze from Camden's disbelieving eyes, he began to back slowly up the trail. "Mount up. Avner. It's time to go."
No one moved to stop them.
Save for the cold breeze pouring down its steep channel, the ravine seemed an ideal place for Brianna's ambush. The jagged boulders along the rims would serve as excellent hiding places, and, after her allies pounced, the deep shadows of the rocky bed would make it difficult for her captors to keep track of the evasive beasts. Only the wind, blowing downhill instead of up, was wrong. If the ogres had sharp noses, they would notice the smell of mountain lion as the princess's swift friends slipped into position. But with the way the brutes stank, how could they have a decent sense of smell?
Brianna was at the mouth of the ravine, suspended from an ogre's bony shoulder by the same greasy rope that bound her hands and feet. A filthy rag had been stuffed into her mouth and secured in place with a strip of equally filthy cloth, and every time she inhaled she almost retched on the rancid odor that hovered about her captors like a fly swarm. Her flesh had grown numb from the stinging mountain cold, and the princess did hot know how much longer she could endure.
There were two ogres behind the one carrying Brianna and ten ahead, many of those bearing the warriors who had died on Coggin's Rise. Several of the corpse-bearers had already entered the ravine, and the extra weight of their burdens was causing them to slip and stumble as they climbed. Regardless of the wind's direction, the princess did not think she would ever have a better chance to surprise her captors.
Brianna closed her eyes and pictured Hiatea's flaming spear in her mind. The talisman on her necklace grew warm, and she thought, Yes, my sisters and brothers, now we hunt.
The unvoiced call of nine vicious spirits answered Brianna's summons, pouring from the goddess's talisman into her breast. The princess suddenly felt hungry and vexed, filled with a fiery rancor that made her ache to rake open bowels and bite necks apart. She opened her eyes and ran her gaze over the dark mountainside. Somewhere up there, nine of Hiatea's most, ruthless hunters were slinking toward the gorge, as quiet as shadows and as hard to see as the wind.