Mallory, her armour dusted, and her eyes wearied from hours of weariness during the siege, the trial, and then the escape, entered the tent where Collum sat by the table. His eyes, usually sharp and calculating, now carried a weight of concern as he glanced up from the maps and letters scattered in front of him. She shook her head, confirming what he already feared.
"No sign of him," she said, her voice tinged with frustration. Collum leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples as a long, heavy sigh escaped him. The tent felt suffocating, the air thick with tension.
