Josua,” the prince called from outside the tent. When he stepped inside, Gutrun still had the knife held before her. The duchess looked fierce as an undenned badger, ready to protect herself and Vorzheva from whatever danger might show itself. She lowered the dagger as Josua entered, relieved but still full of worry.
“What is it? We heard the shouting. Is my husband with you?”
“He is safe, Gutrun.” Josua walked to the bed, then leaned forward and pulled Vorzheva to him in a swift embrace. He kissed her brow as he released her. “But we have been attacked by the Storm King’s minions. We have lost only one, but that is a great loss.”
“Who?” Vorzheva caught his arm as he tried to straighten.
“Geloë.”
She cried out in grief.
“Three Norns attacked Camaris,” Josua explained. “Aditu, Geloë, and the Wrannaman Tiamak came to his aid. The Norns were killed, but Aditu says that Geloë took a fatal wound.” He shook his head. “I think she was the wisest of us all. Now she is gone and we cannot replace her.”
Vorzheva fell back. “But she was just here, Josua. She came with Aditu to see me. Now she is dead?” Tears filled her eyes.
Josua nodded sadly. “I came to see that you were safe. Now I must go meet with Isgrimnur and the others to decide what this means, what we will do.” He stood, then bent and kissed his wife again. “Do not steep—and keep your knife, Gutrun—until I can send someone here to guard you.”
“No one else was hurt? Gutrun said that she saw fires.”
“Camaris’ tent. He seems to have been the only one attacked.” He began to move toward the door.
“But Josua,” Vorzheva said, “are you sure? Our camp is so big.”
The prince shook his head. “I am sure of nothing, but we have not heard of any other attacks. I will have someone here to guard you soon. Now I must hurry, Vorzheva.”
“Let him go, Lady,” Gutrun told her. “Lie back and try to sleep. Think of your child.”
Vorzheva sighed. Josua squeezed her hand, then turned and hastened from the tent.
Isgrimnur looked up as the prince strode into the light of the campfire. The cluster of men waiting for the prince stepped back respectfully, letting him pass. “Josua ...” the duke began, but the prince did not let him finish.
“I have been foolish, Isgrimnur. It is not enough to have sentries running through the camp looking for signs of invading Norns. Aedon’s Blood, it took me long enough to realize it—Sludig!” he shouted. “Is Sludig somewhere nearby?”
The Rimmersman stepped forward. “Here, Prince Josua.”
“Send soldiers through the camp to see if everyone is accounted for, especially those of our party who might be at risk. Binabik and Strangyeard were with me until the fire started, but that does not mean they are safe still. It is late in the day for me to realize this might have been a diversion. And my niece, Miriamele—send someone to her tent immediately. And Simon, too, although he may be with Binabik.” Josua frowned. “If they wanted Camaris, it seems likely it was about the sword. Simon carried it for a while, so perhaps there is some danger to him as well. Damn me for my slow wits.”
Isgrimnur made a throat-clearing noise. “I already sent Freosel to look after Miriamele, Josua. I knew you would want to see Lady Vorzheva as soon as you could and I thought it should not wait.”
“Thank you, Isgrimnur. I did go to her. She and Gutrun are fine.” Josua scowled. “But I am shamed you have had to do my thinking.”
Isgrimnur shook his head. “Let’s just hope the princess is safe.”
“Freosel has been sent after Miriamele,” Josua told Sludig. “That is one less to hunt for. Go and see to the rest now. And post two guards at my tent, if you would. I will think better knowing that someone is watching over Vorzheva.”
The Rimmersman nodded. He commandeered a large portion of the soldiers who were milling aimlessly around Isgrimnur’s camp and went
Douglas Preston, Lincoln Child