The second ogre gave a startled jerk and leaned forward to see what had happened to his companion. Tavis's arrow caught him in the mouth. The brute's head snapped back, then he slumped down on the ledge. The swaddled figure next to his corpse did not even stir.
"It's a g-good thing your aim is true," Morten said. "If you had hit Brianna, I would have k-killed you."
With that, the bodyguard started to climb.
"Wait," Tavis said. He pointed at the coil of rope hanging from Morten's belt. "Let me have that. I'll t-tie a line around these two in c-case we must leave in a hurry."
Without saying anything, the bodyguard took the rope off his belt and threw it to Tavis.
"Climb up to the glacier and keep watch." Tavis suggested. He kneeled at Avner's side to loop the end of the rope around the boy's chest. "I'll wake Brianna."
"So you can c-claim the honor of rescuing her?" Morten scoffed. "I think n-not."
"We haven't rescued her yet," Tavis snapped. There was a grain of truth to the bodyguard's comment, but the scout's main reason for sending Morten to the top was hardly selfish. "It's lime to prove all those threats you make aren't empty. There are bound to be more guards outside, and sooner or later they'll notice what's going on down here. If you're half the fighter you claim, you can hold them off better than I."
"I'm twice the warrior I claim." Morten snarled. He tugged at his battle-axe to be sure it wasn't frozen into bis belt, then resumed his climb. "But try to keep things quiet. There's no use starting a battle until we have to."
Tavis finished tying the two humans into the line, then fastened the other end of the rope to his belt and followed the bodyguard as far as the ledge. After pushing the dead ogre into the chasm below, he pulled himself onto the broad shelf and sat down. The figure beside him was so completely swaddled in furs he could not be certain it was human. The ogres had wrapped the occupant in several layers of bearskin, then tied a greasy rope around the whole thing to keep the bulky cocoon from unraveling. Altogether, the sheaf was close to eight feet long. The only opening was a small breathing hole, but the scout could not see inside it.
Behind this cocoon sat a crude heater that the ogres had made by filling the top of a firbolg's skull with bear fat and lighting it. The resulting flame was orange and rank, exuding an oily smoke that had already stained much of the cliff above it with a grimy black soot.
Tavis started to loosen the rope, then thought better of it. If he startled Brianna, she might cry out in surprise and draw the ogres down upon them. He grabbed the bear-fat lamp and held it over the hole. Inside was a small mouth that appeared to be human-at least judging by what little he could see, which consisted entirely of two cracked, chapped lips. The rest of the face remained completely hidden, rendering it impossible to guess how the princess might react when he untied the bundle.
The scout glanced up and saw that Morten had reached his station. The burly firbolg sat with his back to the cliff and his feet braced against the glacier, holding him in place. His mighty battle-axe rested across his lap, and in his throwing hand he held his dagger. The bodyguard glanced down and waved an impatient hand toward the cocoon.
Tavis slipped his hand into the breathing hole, intending to keep Brianna from crying out in alarm. As she exhaled, he felt the hot, damp air of her breath against his palm, then a set of teeth clamped down on the delicate flesh between the thumb and first finger.
Stifling a scream, the scout tried to pull his hand back, but found it held in place by a pair of powerful jaws. The teeth began to work back and forth, cutting their way toward the delicate tendons of the thumb. To keep from smashing his free fist into the cocoon, Tavis had to remind himself that it was Brianna inside-though he was beginning to have his doubts.
The scout set aside the skull-lamp, then pulled bis dagger, quickly cut the rope, and ripped the skins open. The face inside was gaunt and haggard, with wind-burned cheeks and dry, red skin. Glacier-glare had reduced the eyes to a pair of sunken, bloodshot pits, while the brilliant mountain sun had burned the nose to a deep shade of ruby. Despite its condition, Tavis found the face more beautiful than ever. It belonged to Brianna.
The princess opened her mouth, pulling her teeth away from the scout's bleeding hand. "You!" she croaked.
Tavis smiled. "That's right. I've come to save you."
Brianna considered this for a moment, then began unwrapping herself. She moved slowly, as though greatly fatigued, her fingers trembling as she struggled to grip the filthy bearskins. Nevertheless, when Tavis reached out to help, she angrily pushed his hand away.
"How much is the reward?" she demanded.
"Reward?" Tavis echoed, stunned by the acid tone in the princess's voice. "You think I'm doing this for gold?"
Brianna rolled her eyes. "Please, I know better," she said. "How much is my father paying you for this?"
"Nothing!" Tavis snapped. "The king-"
The scout stopped himself in midsentence, realizing that now was no time to tell the princess about her father's betrayal.
"What about the king?" Brianna demanded. If the haughty tone in her voice was any indication, the princess was recovering fast. "Finish what you were going to say."
Tavis shook his head. "The king didn't offer to pay me anything," he said. The scout pulled Brianna's amulet from his cloak pocket, then pressed it into her hand. "And you can have this back-free of charge."
The princess's mouth fell open. "Where'd you find it?"
"The same place you lost it," he replied curtly.
Tavis turned away and untied the rope from his belt, then sat down on the ledge to pull up Avner and the earl.
"What are you doing?" the princess asked, peering over his shoulder. The bitterness had gone from her voice, but it had not been replaced by any hint that she felt sorry for how she had treated him so far.
"I'm hauling up two people who risked their lives on your behalf," Tavis said.
As the scout fed the rope through his hands, slivers of fiery light began to flicker across the ledge. He glanced back and found Brianna clutching her talisman to her chest, the red glow of her goddess's magic slipping from between her fingers.
"Save some of your healing magic," he said. "These humans are dying of cold and need your help-if it isn't too much trouble for Your Highness."
"Of course not." If the princess noticed the reproach in Tavis's voice, she showed no sign. "Who are they?"
"Avner and Earl Dobbin."
"Really!" Brianna considered this news for a moment, then asked, "And what did my father promise them?"
Tavis did not bother to answer, and before the princess could say anything more an alarmed war cry sounded from above. The scout looked up to see Morten flinging his dagger at something across the glacier.
"Morten?" Brianna gasped. "What's he doing here?"
"He came with us," Tavis explained.
The scout redoubled his efforts to pull his companions up, but raising two humans over such a distance was not an easy task, even for a firbolg.
Brianna sat down beside him, then reached for the rope. "I'll bring them up," she said. "You help Morten."
Tavis did not yield the line. "They're too heavy."
"Don't be ridiculous," the princess said. She grabbed the rope about a foot below Tavis's hands, then began to raise the humans almost as fast as the scout had been doing. "After all, I am a Hartwick."
"So I see," Tavis said, standing. Like almost everyone in Hartsvale, he knew of the supernatural strength of Brianna's father and male ancestors, but this was the first he had heard that the princess shared the gift. "I wonder what other secrets you and the king have been keeping."