The shout from outside pulled everyone from the tent at once.
Torches flared along the perimeter as fighters moved into position. For a moment it looked like another attack was coming through the trees. Then the noise faded as quickly as it had started, leaving only the unsettled quiet of wolves who knew something was wrong but could not yet see it.
Richard turned back toward the tent and realized his father was no longer beside him.
“Alaric?”
No answer.
He pushed back inside. The maps were still spread across the table. The fire still burned. But the place where Alaric had been sitting was empty.
Torren appeared in the entrance a moment later, breathing hard.
“He’s gone,” he said. “No blood. No sign of a struggle. Whoever took him moved fast and quiet — the same way they took Elias
