“You’ve done it now.” He panted a few more times then removed a red cloth from under his cuirass and wiped his brow, replacing it when he finished. “Take her.”
Two guards emerged from the back of the group. They slowly stepped closer to me. My lips curled at the caution that widened their eyes and each one’s hand stationed directly above the hilts of their swords.
“Thank you, Marren,” Head Guard Lawrence said.
“My pleasure.” The thickness of flattery in his voice made me glance over my shoulder as he bowed his head.
I rolled my eyes and muttered under my breath, “Arrogant bastard.”
Marren loosened his grip on my arm as the two guards approached, ready to take me into custody. I took the last chance to make my escape, dashing for the border of trees. This time I didn’t stop or look back until safely hidden in the shelter of the woods and deep enough they wouldn’t dare follow.
***
I waited until night swept across the land and before the moon rose to make my way back toward Hafton. During my stint in the sheltering woods of my freedom, I convinced myself I could survive off the land. To depend on myself, and no one else, appealed to me. Solitude also meant never getting hurt by anyone again. Before any of that could happen, I needed to go back home to grab my things. I hoped Tarn wouldn’t be there.
Using the shadows to cloak my appearance, I slipped through town unnoticed. Tucked away in a secluded corner sat a rundown inn. In its prime, the inn was the busiest and most beautiful around. Now, the building stood as the last remaining all wood structure in town. In fact, it was the only one in this part of the world, according to some well-traveled tenants. Business all but shut down years ago. If you asked Tarn, that was because of me. He blamed me for so many things. Nevertheless, the inn had been my home, offering a leaky roof, creaking floors, and broken down beds. The only home I’d ever known.
I made my approach as slow and as quiet as I could. I searched the shadows beyond the house for evidence of Balai or worse, Cyrs. Still in the clear, I stepped on the first of the three stairs to the small covered porch which also leaked. The wood groaned loudly against my weight. The sound echoed back through the city as if to point out my existence and dare anyone to come and find me. I held my breath, sure I had been caught. After a few moments of silence, and then the quiet chirping of the crickets, I continued up. I reached for the door handle feeling the excitement of my pending permanent freedom looming right out of reach.
“I heard you’ve gotten yourself into trouble again.” Tarn’s deep voice shattered the silence—and my excitement—in one breath. He sat on the floor of the porch in the darkest corner. I didn’t check the porch for anyone hiding there.
“It’s not my fault. Danst slipped something into my bag and told the guards—”
“That makes no difference!” Tarn’s voice rose to the degrading volume and tone that demonstrated how far beneath him he saw me. “You ran. That makes you guilty.”
“Father, if you would give me the chance to explain…”
“No more chances! You’ve made your bed. Now sleep in it!”
“You know what the Cyrs will do to me. Please, let me grab some of my things, and I’ll leave for good. I will never bother you again.”
“You will. You’ve always been nothing but a bother.” His voice grew deep and low. “Take her. I want her out of my sight forever.”
I jumped as both of my wrists were pulled behind me and bound tight with rope, the fibers bit into my skin. They placed a gag in my mouth. I didn’t get the chance to struggle before they shoved me down the stairs. I almost lost my footing in the process. My captors escorted me to a cart brought to the front of the inn from a darkened alley nearby. The wooden base held a thin layer of weathered straw that started to rot. They shoved me on, falling face first into the decaying covering. I tried to roll to my side for fresh air, but to no avail. The thickness of the sweet, musty stench proved too powerful, overriding the fresh air. I choked painfully, trying not to heave with the gag on and make my situation worse. Though dying, even drowning on my own vomit, would be a mercy compared to what the gypsies do to girls. I didn’t want to think of that. I had to think of a way out. I would find a way…somehow.
“So you don’t get any ideas…” one of the men said as he approached the side of the cart. I glanced up in time to see the hilt of his sword come down on my forehead.
***
I came to as a fight ensued. The growls of some large, ravenous animal mixed with the screams belonging to my captors. They came from outside of wherever I sat. I shot up from the seat. My hands, no longer bound behind my back, stinging like they’d been burned. The place where the gag rubbed my skin felt chapped. I stood inside the darkened shelter fearing I would be the next to be eaten.