Garinor and Tomli could hear shouting and the two of them looked at each other with a trace of fear in their eyes, but also their own separate journeys had toughened them as well, and part of them yearned to join the fray outside the tent.
“Begone from my camp,” Terrian bellowed.
“Your camp?” came a haughty voice. “I do believe this land belongs to me.”
“Your father, you mean,” the General volleyed.
“Yes, of course. What is his is also mine. But that is not why I am here.”
“Have you gotten lost, then?” Terrian taunted. Garinor and Tomli couldn’t help chuckling to themselves.
But the prince was outraged. “How dare you! Do watch your tongue and treat me with civility.”
Terrian’s tone changed and Garinor worried when it did. The prince’s army must have surrounded them. Maybe several people were now held at sword point. “How may I be of service, your highness?”
“Ah, now that is better.” There was a pause and Tomli had to hold Garinor back from looking through the tent flap. “I am aware that a boy was brought here this day. I would have him presented to me.” Before Terrian could respond, the prince quickly added, “And do be careful not to lie to me. If your tongue slips, so might my sword.”
Garinor’s eyes widened and he looked at his friend fearfully.
Tomli whispered encouragement, “His signal to attack is probably to drop his sword. I’m sure your father is fine.” They missed Terrian’s answer but the prince’s next words made it clear.
“Wise of you to admit that he is here. For, as I said, I already know that much. Now produce him.”
There was a dead silence for several seconds and then something that sounded like a slap. “I said to produce him!”
“Very well,” Terrian’s voice was resigned. “He is in that tent there.”
Chills went down Garinor’s spine and he and Tomli stared at each other in disbelief. How could Garinor’s father just hand them over? They looked around the tent, but even with the table, tree stump, and a wooden chest in the corner, there was no place for either of them to hide.
Two members of the prince’s army were sent to explore the tent. The boys tensed in anticipation, waiting for the footsteps to come close. They could at least pounce and catch them by surprise and perhaps find some way to escape.
But the footsteps didn’t come. The boys wondered what was wrong, but then it suddenly became clear. Shouts of war echoed in the air and the camp burst into battle. Terrian had, in fact, pointed the prince’s attention to a different tent.
The prince vowed to make Terrian pay for such treachery, but he was suddenly engaged in a sword fight and his verbal plays were lost amidst the clashing of steel. Garinor and Tomli risked a peek out the tent flap and saw utter chaos in the camp. Terrian was fighting off three warriors all on his own, and doing remarkably well. He felled them all without a scratch on himself, and he turned toward the next assailant. Garinor was awed.
The rest of the fighters in the camp did well in their own battles, but the numbers of the prince’s army were too great. They soon overwhelmed the camp and all the noise came down to an eerie quiet.
The boys noted with horror that Terrian was pinned by two burly men and a third had his sword ready to strike. Terrian was injured, but it didn’t look too severe, as he was still on his feet and had an alert expression on his face, though he was gagged. Likewise, other fighters around the camp were subdued, awaiting their fates.
The prince stared at Terrian for a long time before he spoke. “I ask again. Produce the boy.”
Terrian’s eyes betrayed him as they strayed toward his tent. The prince followed his gaze and laughed, summoning one of his guards to go look.
Garinor and Tomli knew that time was up. They nodded to each other, prepared for the worst, but then Tomli turned and punched Garinor in the stomach, felling him instantly.
“Sorry, Gar. But I can’t let them have you.” He turned then and strode out of the tent and into the guard’s waiting hands.