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She headed toward it, moving between the tents.

She looked around for guards, but she couldn’t see any, and she supposed that wasn’t unusual. They would be patrolling the perimeter, not the camp itself.

She tried to shake the feeling that there was something wrong.

A shout of laughter came from the fire to her right, and she relaxed a little at the sound. At least in some parts of the camp there was noise and people.

She moved to the prisoners’ enclosure with more confident steps after that, leaving the tents behind her. Ahead, she heard the low murmur of voices, and saw a line of lanterns that must define the area where the prisoners were being kept.

She slowed a little, looking down at the tunic in her hand and wondering if Luc would be teased for having his lover come running after him with a warm garment while he dealt with his duties.

She shrugged. So be it.

She had come this far.

He had broad enough shoulders to take some ribbing.

She nearly tripped over the guard who lay in her path, stumbling and righting herself just in time.

She crouched beside the woman, putting a hand to her throat to check for a pulse, but she was dead, an arrow embedded in her heart.

She should have brought her invisibility cap, or found someone and asked if they knew why Luc had been called away, but she hadn’t done either of those things, and now she could just make out, in the weak lantern light, Luc standing with his back to her, facing a man with a sword, flanked by two archers.

There was another body lying off to the left, and she guessed there were more she couldn’t see, otherwise someone would have called the alarm.

The prisoners seemed to be gone.

Escaped.

The general they were holding, Ava couldn’t remember his name, must have had outside help. He’d asked to speak to Luc, so a guard came to fetch him.

They must have quietly shot the other guards, released the prisoners, and waited for Luc to come to them.

They wouldn’t have found his tent amongst the many in camp, so they had to lure him out.

It meant there was more going on here, and they wanted Luc specifically.

They would not have him.

She thought through her options, but she didn’t have many, and she needed to get Luc into the tunic.

At the very least.

One of the archers lifted their bow and aimed at him.

She had run out of time.

She strode forward, eyes on Luc. “You were gone so long, sweetheart, I was worried you’d be cold.”

She threw the tunic at him, saw the surprise and fear for her that flitted across his face as he caught the woollen garment one handed.

“It’s chilly at night this time of year,” she admonished him. “Especially this far north.”

“Who are you?”

The man with the sword stared at her, perplexed.

“What do you mean, who am I?” She frowned at him and put a hand on her hip. “What’s going on here?” She pretended she’d only just noticed the archers.