“Dagan, listen—” But my response was swept out of my mouth, out of my head, as a long, strangled scream tore the night in two.

“Who was that?” I whispered, panic spreading through my body like fire.

We leapt to our feet, and Dagan pulled his dagger from its sheath as shouts erupted near the far end of the courtyard.

He looked at me, fear twisting his features.

“That sounded a lot like—”

“—Arwia,” I finished.

Hands clasped tightly together, we fled the tent.

WITH TORCHES HELD high, alarmed wedding-goers clustered in the corner of the courtyard near a small thatch of olive trees draped with silk streamers.

Arwia stood near Nasu, her face a sickly shade of amber, one hand pressed to her ear. Blood seeped onto her tunic and dripped down her long strands of black hair.

“Nasu!” Dagan shouted.

“Over here!” Nasu raised one lanky arm.

We weaved through concerned bystanders to get to the former Alu guardsman. He greeted us with worried eyes. “She’s hurt. Badly.” He flexed his angular jaw.

“Let me see your ear, Arwia,” I demanded. Blood was seeping through her fingers.

She moved her small hand away from the side of her head with a wince, and I held in a gasp. Her ear was nearly severed from her head.

“What do you need?” Dagan asked me.

“For now? A clean cloth.”

“Got it.” Dagan squeezed my elbow and sprinted away.

I reached up to examine the cartilage. Blood oozed from the wound. She’d need stitches and a pain tonic. Immediately. But I’d have to get to my healing chambers to get those. I hadn’t worn my healing satchel, which had obviously been a mistake. Within moments, Dagan was back and I pressed the clean dining linens he’d found against her head until I could sew her back up.

“What happened?” Dagan crossed his arms over his chest, eyes sharp. Pointed.

Arwia quivered from head to toe. “Everything was fine! I was dancing. Iltani was drunk, and I was trying to get her to dance with me to get away from that lecherous man who always grabs women in the marketplace.” She took a shaky breath. “And then a man who was wearing Manzazu clothes, but in the wrong way, a very wrong way, pulled me over here near the olive grove. And before I could even think about reaching for my dagger, he had his own out and tried to slit my throat!”

She gulped and tears filled her eyes. “But the Koru were there, and the next thing I knew, he was on the ground and my ear felt like it was on fire.”

Commander Ummi and Humusi and another young warrior, part of the queen’s main army, pushed through the crowds, revealing a man facedown on the ground. Black blood stained the sand around his body, likely from a gut wound.

Wiping his blood from her battle-ax onto her tunic, Ummi hung the weapon at her side. She nodded to the young warrior, who looked no older than Nanaea. “Tell the sarratum and your regiment leader about this, and go to the wall. Humusi and I will stay.”