Though the human was trembling with fear, his black eyes showed no emotion but anger and hatred. Behind the man, peering out from the mouth of the nook, stood the girl who had lured Bodvar into the ambush.
“Did you find the traell?” Bodvar’s heavy steps rumbled through the forest
“Not Avner,” Tavis called. He looked down at the man, then pointed at the cranny and whispered, “Leave your cloak and go!”
The man’s expression changed from anger to disbelief, and he seemed too shocked to move. The young girl reacted more quickly, pulling the astonished fellow back into the crevice. She ripped his brown cloak off his back and threw it out, then both humans disappeared into the darkness.
Tavis glanced over his shoulder and saw Bodvar stomping around the bend. The scout used his injured foot to drag the cloak over to the blood-soaked ground, then grabbed the largest stone he could find and raised it over his head.
“Wait!” Bodvar yelled. “Don’t kill-”
Tavis hurled the rock down. The effect was perfect. With the axe lying nearby, a corner of the blood-soaked cloak visible, and a crimson stain spreading from beneath the stone, it looked as though the scout had avenged the attack on his toe. He sat down on the stone, then pulled his bleeding foot into his lap and inspected the wound.
The man had clearly known what he was doing. The axe blade had landed in the joint, slicing through the tendons and chipping the toe bone. Until this was healed, Tavis would have a difficult time walking, and running was out of the question. If he wanted to get away from the frost giants now-which seemed wise, given that he had no idea how much longer the magic in Basil’s runemask would last-he would have to do it through guile, not speed.
Bodvar pounded up and stopped beside Tavis, then surveyed the bloody scene around the scout’s perch. “Didn’t you hear me?” demanded the frost giant. “I said-”
“I know what you said,” Tavis interrupted.
“Then why’d you kill him?” Bodvar demanded. “Hagamil’s been trying to catch one of those traells since we got here.”
Tavis pointed to his bloody toe.
Bodvar grimaced, but said, “That’s nothing.”
The frost giant kneeled down and reached into the neck of his tunic, withdrawing a chain with a large, tear- shaped gem on it. From deep within the jewel’s heart scintillated a pale blue light that seemed all too familiar.
Tavis grasped the frost giant’s arm. “Bodvar, what’s that?”
Bodvar shook his head at the scout’s ignorance. “You never seen an ice diamond?”
Tavis wanted to retch, remembering the last ice diamonds he had seen. “Of course,” Tavis answered. “But not one so large.”
“This thing?” Bodvar scoffed. “This is nothing. You should see Hagamil’s. As large as my fist.” The giant closed his hand to illustrate.
“They’re magic?” the scout asked.
“They never melt, if that’s what you mean,” Bodvar said. “And you can enchant them, I suppose. But most warriors carry them for other reasons.”
The frost giant touched the gem to Tavis’s wound. The scout hissed as a bolt of searing cold shot into the gash, then his foot went numb clear to the ankle. The bleeding stopped almost instantly, and he even thought he would be able to walk.
Bodvar slipped the ice diamond back around his neck, then ripped the hem off his patient’s robe.
“This will hold you until I can convince Roskilde to heal you,” he said, his attention fixed on bandaging Tavis’s wound.
“My thanks,” Tavis said. He leaned back and braced his hand on the largest stone he could reach. “This is certainty a change from asking for a challenge fight”
“It’s little enough after you went and saved my life,” Bodvar said. “If it starts to hurt, let me know and I’ll touch it with my diamond again.”
“What would I have to do to get one of those diamonds?” Tavis asked. “Where do they come from?”
“You could never find one yourself,” Bodvar said, knotting the bandage. “Not unless you can follow the Boreal Lights to the heart of the Endless Ice Sea-and you’d be the first stone giant I’ve met who can do that.”
“Then the diamonds don’t come from Gilthwit?”
“Gilthwit?”
Bodvar looked up, his pale eyes as unreadable as ice, and fixed his gaze on Tavis. The scout gripped the stone beneath his hand, fearing that he had betrayed his disguise. He had realized that was a possibility when he had asked the question, but there had been no choice. The answer would tell him who the spy was, and once he identified the spy, he would know how much danger Brianna was in.
At last, Bodvar stood. “How could they come from Gilthwit?” asked the frost giant. “That place is just a legend. Like I said, ice diamonds come from the Endless Ice Sea.”
“And no other place?”
“ ’Course not. Only the Endless Ice Sea’s cold enough to forge ’em,” Bodvar answered. “But you don’t have to go out there to get one. We can trade for it.”
Tavis released his hold on the stone. If ice diamonds came only from the Endless Ice Sea, then the Prince of Gilthwit was a liar-and probably an imposter as well.
The frost giant slipped an arm around Tavis’s waist to help him stand. “We’d better be getting back,” he said. “Slagfid’ll be wondering where we got off to.”
“You go ahead-and blame Avner’s loss on me,” Tavis said, making no move to rise. “I’m going to keep looking.”
Bodvar hoisted the scout up. “Don’t be stupid. With that foot of yours, you wouldn’t last an hour before the traells get you,” he said. “And now that we don’t have the boy, you’re the only proof we got that Tavis Burdun is dead.”
“But your chief will never take my word!”
A cunning grin crept across Bodvar’s lips. “Slagfid wasn’t exactly telling you the truth,” he said. “The only reason Hagamil wants a body is so he can give it to Julien and Arno and claim that we frost giants killed Tavis Burdun by ourselves. When we show up without any other proof, he’ll be real mad-but he won’t hurt you. He needs you to tell Julien and Arno what happened. They’ll be even madder than him tomorrow if they don’t know for sure that Tavis is dead.”
“What’s so important about tomorrow?” Tavis asked.
Bodvar glanced down the gulch, then lowered his voice to a whisper. “We’re not supposed to tell you, but that’s when we’re meeting Julien and Arno,” he said. “They’re gonna have Brianna, and they want to be real sure Tavis Burdun can’t come kill her.”
9
“Do you have everything you need?” Brianna inquired. “We want this weapon ready before the giants attack.”
The queen and her retinue had stopped behind a disassembled ballista that five of Cuthbert’s soldiers were frantically reassembling. Next to the weapon lay a stack of harpoons with pitch-soaked rags swaddled around their tips. On a nearby merlon hung a torch, a ribbon of black, bitter smoke rising from its head.
“Can I get anything to help?” Brianna asked again.
“It’s only a broken skein, Majesty,” said the sergeant of engines.
A rough-featured soldier with purple circles under his eyes and a two-day stubble of beard, the sergeant was the only man to meet the queen’s gaze. The other four kept their eyes fixed on the ballista. Although they affected an attitude of preoccupation, it did not escape Brianna’s notice that their hands had fallen idle.
