The Troll's Trove Ch. 25

Chapter 25 - Inspection

The soldier standing before Trygg stiffened further.

"Relax, it's not you."

The soldier remained as immobile as a basalt boulder. They all did-all one-thousand something of them.

Trygg rubbed his forehead. Inspections were so much easier when Arild was there to do them. He shouldn't have sent the man away until after the troops had been assembled.

He turned his shoulder on the soldiers and began to walk the line. He knew Arild or Jorn would have a comment for sloppy posture, a spear angled not quite so or an improperly maintained blade. Despite the fact some carried swords and others axes to Trygg, they all looked the same. In their fost tarnished steel-scale they appeared as a school of frozen mackerel.

Maybe I can get Jorn to do this. Where is Jorn anyway?

And where was Adalayd? He'd sent a page for her some time ago. Neither Princess nor page had returned in answer to his summons.

The clip clap of heels upon the flagstones alerted him that someone approached.

"Ada, its abou—"

It was not Ada. Jorn strode towards him. His helmet was missing. There was blood on his tabard.

Jorn bowed. Despite the state of his uniform when he straightened his posture was as straight as a pike.

"What happened to you?"

"Sire, my men and I have apprehended Turls. Jannar was gravely wounded. He might lose his hand."

Freyja's ghost good news at last. Trygg cringed at his uncharitable thought. He barked his next words. "Where is he?"

"In custody, Sire. We put him in the dungeon."

Trygg whirled. He took several quick strides towards the dungeon entrance. Jorn hurried on his heels.

"Sire, there's more."

Trygg did not slacken his pace. "Tell me."

"Sire, please, it's private."

Trygg pulled up short. He sucked in a sharp breath. A snowflake lodged in his throat and he coughed several times.

"In there," he wheezed when he could breathe again. He nodded towards a courtside devotional.

"So, Jorn, what is it?" he said before they were completely ensconced in the tiny enclosure.

"Sire, we apprehended Turls assaulting the Princess."

"You what? Is she okay? Where's Ada?"

"I don't know, Sire. She ..."

"She what, Jorn?"

"Ran off, Sire. Left Whitewall. With a vagabond."

Hot blood suffused Trygg's face. "Adalayd, did what?"

"Sire, I'd like permission to abandon my post."

"No Jorn. Ada left? What do you mean she left?"

"Princess Adalayd left Whitewall, Sire. Supplied for a long trip."

"With a vagabond?"

"Yes, Sire. Well, maybe not a vagabond. He had the look of a mountain man, probably a trapper."

"Why? Why would she do this?"

"I don't know, Sire. She said she's going to Endris. She wouldn't say why. I'm not sure I believe her."

"You talked to her?" Trygg's voice rose in volume. "You let her go?"

"Sire, the Princess commanded me."

"Freyja's ghost, Jorn. Have you never disobeyed a command?"

"Sire, I was trying to stop the Princess when Turls attacked. She ran while I subdued him. Then Jannar needed help.

"Sire, I wish to go after Princess Adalayd."

"Of course you may go after her, you and several others. Bring her back. No, better yet, escort her to Endris. And lock her up. Don't let her out of your sight."

Jorn looked at his feet. "Sire, there's something else I wish to do. It means leaving Princess Adalayd once she's safe."

"What?"

A flash of pink like an over scrubbed face highlighted Jorn's cheeks. "I wish to hunt the horn."

"No."

"Sire, it's the only way I can be worthy of ..." He shuffled his feet.

"Of Adalayd?"

The pink highlights on Jorn's cheeks ripened.

"Freyja's ghost, Jorn, all you need to be worthy of Ada is to ask for her hand and for her to say yes. I wasn't worthy of Elva until she picked me. It was not the other way around."

"But you were the Crown Prince."

"And she was a woman I was desperately in love with. She held the upper hand."

"It's not the same."

"Jorn, you can't have a title higher than she. Not without becoming King, but if you and she wed, know that you'll be a Duke."

"But I should be-need to be-a man, a Lord before I ask her. I need to be worthy of her."

"Jorn, you are already a man. You're a better man than many Lords. I know that. Arild knows that. Elva knows that. From the things she shares with me about my sister, Ada knows that."

Jorn mumbled something. Trygg clapped a hand upon the soldier's shoulder.

"Jorn, go get the Princess. Get her to safety. We'll sort out your title then. Freyja knows rescuing a Princess is at least worthy of a Knighting.

"But don't put yourself, my sister, or the men I am sending with you at risk just to get the horn."

Jorn lifted his head. His cheeks betrayed only the slightest flush.

"Thank you, Sire."

Trygg let his hand fall. "No, thank you." Trygg's gaze drifted elsewhere. "Elva knew Ada ran away, didn't she?"

"Sire, I don't know. I-Sire, I don't wish to say what I think."

"You're right. That wasn't fair. I'll have a chat with my wife."