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He nodded. “Someone from Grimwalt has sent people twice to get her, and there was an incident yesterday with the Grimwaldian envoy. I worry they’ll try again.”

Kikir must have heard something about it, because he nodded. “Skäddar shares a border with Grimwalt. I’ll keep my ear to the ground for information on who is behind these attempts, and write to you if I discover anything.”

“Thank you.” Luc already knew who was behind it and why they wanted Ava so badly, but that was Ava’s secret and he would never reveal it. He certainly appreciated the offer, though.

A whoop up ahead alerted him to trouble, and both he and Kikir unsheathed their swords as they rode forward, more cautious now, checking to see who was around them and how far out the unit was spread.

Rafe and Kym, the scout from the Jatan border, were riding to his right. To Kikir’s left, Massi had drawn her bow.

An arrow flew out of the trees in front of them, and for a moment Luc worried it was aimed at Massi or Kikir.

But it was coming for him.

He didn’t change his horse’s stride, or try to duck. Instead he signalled to Massi to work out where it came from and shoot back.

The arrow skimmed his shoulder on its way past.

“My friend, you have ice in your veins, like a good Skäddar from the high mountains,” Kikir called. He gave a yip of excitement and urged his own horse to keep pace.

Luc wondered if Ava had given the Skäddar any protective working. Perhaps the scarf, although he wasn’t sure about that.

If she hadn’t, he was remarkably lucky, as he and Luc burst through the trees unscathed, although Luc had never doubted his own safety for a moment. He had been shot at from a few paces away before and walked away without a scratch on him thanks to Ava’s workings.

They’d surprised the attackers with their headlong race.

The attackers must have expected the Rising Wave to slow or take cover, not charge ahead, and they were still trying to get down from the trees when Luc and Kikir reached them.

Massi, with her bow drawn back, was not far behind them.

These weren’t the same ragtag soldiers from the clearing, Luc saw immediately.

They were far more put together, their uniforms were complete, no mishmash of jackets and pants.

Luc kept them from moving away from the tree by steering his horse back and forth, and then a large number of his unit caught up and the attackers were completely surrounded.

They had shot at him, not any of the others, which would imply they knew who he was. But he’d learned through long, hard experience it was better to let your enemies talk first.

“We meant no harm.” One of the two men set his bow down on the ground and backed up against the tree, hands up with palms facing out.

Massi actually laughed out loud at that.

The soldier started at the sound, and then cringed. “I mean, we thought you were going to attack us.”

Luc said nothing, and the silence ticked over, the sound of wind and the squeak of bark rubbing against bark the only sound for a long moment.

“Do it, then!” The second man shoved forward, chest out, and slapped a hand over his heart.

“Do what?” Kikir wanted to know.

The man looked at him, eyes wide as he took in the markings on the Skäddar warrior’s face, and then gazed at them all, suddenly uncertain.

“Kill us.”

The place on his arm where Ava had sewn health and strength back into him as she closed the deep cut with needle and thread, and the now-smooth place on his chest where he’d been shot with an arrow, told him there was danger in believing this act.

These men were not frightened strays, lashing out in self-defence, waiting for a killing blow.

“Who knew I was coming? Who got you to wait up in the tree to shoot me?” he asked. He kept his voice quiet, implacable, and the one who was cringing against the tree went still and looked up at him.