ad always felt very fortable with the reserved manners of his prince。 How could Josua lead； except by the mastery of his own person？
Thinking of Josua； Deornoth stole another look at him and felt worry e surging back。 It seemed that the prince's armor of patience was at last breaking apart； wracked by forces no man should bear。 As his liegeman watched； Josua stared out into the windy darkness； lips working as he spoke soundlessly to himself； brow wrinkled in pained concentration。
The watching became too difficult。 〃Prince Josua；〃 Deornoth called softly。 The prince finished his silent speech； but did not turn his eyes to the young knight。 Deornoth tried again。 〃Josua？〃
〃Yes； Deornoth？〃 he replied at last。
〃My lord；〃 the knight began； then realized he had nothing to say。 〃My lord； my good lord 。。。〃
As Deornoth bit at his lower lip； hoping inspiration might strike his weary thoughts； Josua suddenly sat forward； eyes fixed where moments before they had aimlessly roved； staring at the dark beyond the fire…reddened breakfront of the forest。
〃What is it？〃 Deornoth asked； alarmed。 Isorn； who had been slumbering behind him； roused with an incoherent cry at the sound of his friend's voice。 Deornoth fumbled for his sword； pulling it free from the scabbard； half…standing as he did so。
〃Be silent。〃 Josua raised his arm。
A thrill of dread swept through the camp。 For stretching seconds there was nothing； then the rest heard it； too： something breaking clumsily
through the undergrowth just beyond the ring of light。
〃Those creatures！〃 Vorzheva's voice rose up out of a whisper into a wavering cry。 Josua turned and grasped her arm tightly。 He gave her a single harsh shake。
〃Quiet； for the love of God！〃
The sound of branches breaking came nearer。 Now Isorn and the soldiers were on their feet； too； hands clutching fearfully at sword…hilts。 Some of the rest of the pany were quietly weeping and praying。
Josua hissed： 〃No forest dweller would go so noisily 。 。 。〃 His anxiousness was poorly hidden。 He pulled Naidel out of the sheath。 〃It walks two…legged 。。。〃
〃Help me 。 。 。〃 called a voice out of the dark。 The night seemed to grow deeper still； as though the blackness might roll over them and obliterate their feeble campfire。
A moment later something pushed through into the ring of trees。 It flung its arms up before its eyes as the firelight beat upon it。
〃God save us； God save us！〃 Towser cried hoarsely。
〃Look； it is a man；〃 Isorn gasped。 〃Aedon； he is covered in blood！〃
The wounded man lurched another two steps toward the fire； then slid jerkily to his knees； pushing forward a face nearly black with dried blood； but for the eyes that stared unseeingly toward the circle of startled people。
〃Help me；〃 he moaned again。 His voice was slow and thick； almost unrecognizable as a man speaking the Westerling tongue。
〃What is this madness； Lady？〃 Towser groaned。 The old jester was tugging at Duchess Gutrun's sleeve as might a child。 〃Tell me； what is this curse that has been put on us？〃
〃I think I know this man！〃 Deornoth gasped； and a moment later felt the freezing fear drop away； he sprang forward to grab the trembling man's elbow and ease him closer to the fire。 The newer was draped in tattered rags。 A fringe of twisted rings； all that remained of a mail shirt； hung about his neck on a collar of blackened leather。 〃It is the pikeman who came with us as a guard；〃 Deornoth told Josua。 〃When you met your brother in the tent before the walls。〃
The prince nodded slowly。 His gaze was intent； his expression momentarily unfathomable。 〃Ostrael 。 。 。〃Josua murmured。 〃Was that not his name？〃 The prince stared at the blood…spattered young pikeman for a long instant； then his eyes brimmed with tears and he turned away。
〃Here； you poor； wretched fellow； here 。。。〃 Father Strangyeard reached forward with a skin of water。 They had scarcely more of that than they had of wine； but no one said a word。 The water filled Ostrael's open mouth and overflowed； streaming down his chin。 He could not seem to swallow。
〃The 。 。 。 diggers had him；〃 Deornoth said。 〃I am sure I saw him caught by them； back at Naglimund。〃 He felt the pikeman's shoulder quiver beneath his touch； heard the man's breath whistling in and out。 〃Aedon； how he must have suffered。〃
Ostrael's eyes turned up to his； yellow and glazed even in the dim light。 The mouth opened again in the dark…crusted face。 〃Help 。 。 。〃 The voice was painfully slow； as chough each heavy word were being hoisted up his throat to his mouth before tumbling out into the air。 〃It 。 。 。 hurts me；〃 he wheezed。 〃Hollow。〃
〃God's Tree； what can possibly be done for him？〃 Isorn groaned。 〃We are all hurting。〃
Ostrael's mouth gaped。 He stared up with blind eyes。
〃We can bandage his wounds。〃 Isorn's mother Gutrun was recovering her considerable poise。 〃We can get him a cloak。 If he lives until the morning； we can do more then。〃
Josua had turned back to look at the young pikeman again。 〃The duchess is right； as usual。 Father Strangyeard； see if you can find a cloak。 Perhaps one of the less injured can spare theirs 。。。〃
〃No！〃 Einskaldir growled。 〃I do not like this！〃
A confused silence fell on the gathering。
〃Surely you do not begrudge 。。。〃 Deornoth began； then gasped as Einskaldir leaped past him and seized the panting Ostrael by the shoulders； throwing him roughly to the ground。 Einskaldir squatted on the young pikeman's chest。 The bearded Rimmersman's long knife appeared from nowhere to lie against Ostrael's blood…smeared neck like a glinting smile。
〃 Einskaldir！ 〃Josua's face was pale。 〃What is this madness？〃
The Rimmersman looked over his shoulder； a strange grin slashing his bearded face。 〃This is no true man！ I do not care where you think you
have seen him before！〃
Deornoth reached a hand toward Einskaldir； but drew it back quickly when the Rimmersman's knife whickered past his outstretched fingers。
〃Fools！ Look！〃 Einskaldir pointed with his hilt toward the fire。 Oscrael's bare foot lay among the embers at the edge of the firepit。 The flesh was being consumed； blackening and smoking； yet the pikeman himself lay almost placidly beneath Einskaldir； his lungs fluting as he forced breath in and out。
There was a moment of silence。 A smothering； bone…chilling fog seemed to settle over the clearing。 The moment had bee as horribly strange yet inalterable as a nightmare。 Fleeing the ruin of Naglimund； they might have wandered into the trackless lands of madness。
〃Perhaps his wounds 。 。 。〃 Isorn began。。。
〃Idiot！ He feels no fire；〃 Einskaldir snarled。 〃And he has a slash in his throat that would kill any man。 Look！ See。'〃 He forced back Ostrael's head until those gathered around could see the ragged； fluttering edges of the wound； which stretched from one angle of his jaw to the other。 Father
Strangyeard； who had been leaning close； made a choking noise and turned away。
〃Tell me he is not some ghost 。 。 。〃 the Rimmersman continued； then was almost thrown to the ground as the body of the pikeman began to thrash beneath him。 〃Hold him down！〃 Einskaldir shouted； trying to keep his face away from Ostrael's head； which whipped from side to side； the teeth snapping shut on empty air。
Deornoth dove forward and clutched at one of the slender arms； it was cold and hard as stone； but still horribly flexible。 Isorn； Strangyeard； and Josua were also struggling to find handholds on the wriggling； lunging form。 The half…darkness was rich with panicky curses。 When Sangfugol came forward and wrapped himself around the last unprisoned foot； hanging on with both arms； the body became quiescent for a moment。 Deornoth could still feel the muscles moving beneath the skin； tightening and relaxing； mustering strength for another try。 Air hissed in and out of the pikeman's distended； idiot…mouth。
Ostrael's head craned out on his uplifted neck； his blackened face swinging to look at each of them in turn。 Then； with terrifying suddenness； the staring eyes seemed to blacken and fall inward。 A moment later； wavering crimson fire blossomed in the empty pits and the labored brea