“Relax, you are safe.” The voice of a man I didn’t recognize came to me, calm and gentle.
“Who are you?” I asked with a level of fear I tried unsuccessfully to keep out. I slid my hand around me and discovered I lay on a bench inside a carriage. There were no windows that I could see—or feel—and no telling who else was with me. Fighting my way out wasn’t an option.
“My name is not important at the moment,” the man said. Though this time, there seemed to be an edge to his voice, which didn’t help to calm my nerves.
“What are you going to do to me?”
“Nothing like what the gypsies would have done,” he replied with an insulted tinge.
“What’s going on?” I pressed, not accustomed to being vulnerable. Not knowing my situation would never do. Know your surroundings. That’s the first thing I learned when I met Danst.
“You should lie back down before you make yourself worse. The bump on your head is pretty big.”
I forgot about the hit on the head, so caught up in my sudden, strange and new surroundings, I didn’t process the pain until it was mentioned. I lifted my hand to the spot on my forehead. A tender bump the size of a goose egg returned my touch.
A knock on the side of the carriage brought the realization that everything fell quiet. The silence thickened the air, making it palpable. The man with me knocked back twice in return. The carriage jolted forward, forcing my heart to jump into my throat and me back into the seat.
“Where are we going?” I asked, this time my voice cracked clearly. I silently groaned and rolled my eyes. This would never do at all. Never reveal your weakness was the second thing I learned.
“Somewhere safe. Now go back to sleep.”
“Safe? For who? How do I know I can trust you?”
“You really need to learn to trust people who are trying to help you. You’re going to make yourself worse. Now, lie down, get some rest, and sleep off that bump.” At least his voice remained calm and level, despite a few hints at other emotions throughout my persistence. I couldn’t be sure if they were annoyance or anger.
“I’m afraid I cannot. Not until I get some answers.” A compromise nothing short of reasonable.
No response.
I decided to remain sitting up, scooting to a corner of the carriage, and tucking my legs underneath me. I ran through the events of the day and my recent past to figure out who would’ve wanted to rescue me when the rest of the world seemed content enough to shun me.
Chapter 2
Hostage
“Wake up, Relena,” a voice reached out to me.
I opened my eyes to the darkened carriage and, for a moment, panicked.
“It’s okay. You are safe. Remember?”
“Yes, I remember,” I whispered.
“I have to put this on your head. It’s a blindfold…just until we get inside. The light may hurt your eyes.”
“Okay,” I agreed, only partially accepting the excuse. I really had no choice.
The cool, soft cloth covered my eyes and was tied at the back of my head. Next, a cloak encompassed my shoulders. The lavender scent that filled each breath helped put me more at ease in my strange company. A gentle hand took ahold of mine, helping me up from the seat. The smoothness of the skin surprised me as warmth soaked into my hand, radiating up my arm, causing my breath to catch. Waves of unwanted emotions trickled through me, sending my heart into an erratic race. While I tried to force my heart to calm down, the carriage shifted, making it race faster.
“There is a step right in front of you. Carefully step down.” The voice came from outside of the carriage. The same man who insisted I was safe. Which meant someone else held my hand.
Forcing the fear to remain at bay, I followed the directions of my strange rescuers. I took the first step down then reached the ground with the next. My hand was released, ending the intense emotions until gentle pressure on the small of my back escorted me farther. My heart pounded in my chest, refusing to obey rationale, as I worked even harder to gain control over myself. Did I dare risk trusting someone else? Especially someone I didn’t know? I clenched my fists at my sides to keep them from shaking and clamped my jaw to keep my lips from quivering. My fear may threaten my resolve, but my pride was too strong to let it show.
The walk away from the carriage was silent except for the crunch of the dirt and tiny rocks crumbling under our feet. The cold air felt like ice when it blew into my cloak. Little pricks of moisture stabbed at my face. Snow? Icy rain? Either way, I couldn’t be sure and it didn’t matter. Every now and then I could hear the rustle of leaves blowing through some trees nearby. For the most part, my surroundings seemed far too quiet. Something that unsettled me.