Chapter 1
The dull sounds of twigs breaking against dry leaves, the occasional jolt into wet mud dulling the roll underneath her as the lull of strange masculine voices brought her pain back to her. Her arms and legs burned like poisonous snakes putting their fire into her blood. Each rock made her body hurdle into the air forcing new pains to her already bruised body. She was bound by her legs and arms tied in front of her as she brought her little fingers to where warmth leaked in through a hole of the burlap sack that was her prison.
The smell of swine stench suffocated her delicate nose from wanting to inhale for life. Her eyes swelled, she grasped what she had hoped and dreamed was now realized a reality. Her heart pounded in her ears in this realization hoping it would stop or that time would fast forward to where the pain would be no longer; only leaving a remnant of this time as a distant memory and happy endings to look forward to. She stifled her tears, she did not want to be noticed, as reality rushed to her- no happy endings were coming her way.
She didn't know where she was other than a cart or a cage, perhaps, moving. She tried to feel around for an opening above her head and she used her toes to find which way was up or down. The movement of whatever that was carrying her jostled her. She felt beads of sweat pour from her brow as she fought now with the constant jerk and jar of her captors' journey.
She saw the blue sky through the small window. She spied two crates that she was sandwiched between, probably spoils from the raid. She had to move her body around the crates that held her near the back of the now understood wagon cart to see if she could roll away. She was determined to not be another item of whimsy taken from the castle to be lotted out as a trinket. She had to free her hands but the ropes were thicker than her small mouth. If she could escape she could find a kind person to release her bonds.
Suddenly the wagon stopped. She could hear the voices more clearly and their heavy boots hitting the ground as the moved around the wagon.
"We will have to cross the river. The rain five days ago has washed out the bridge," a man said in a foreign tongue.
She understood enough where she was going. Her father made her learn the languages of their enemies, so that one day she could lead her kingdom in victorious wars against these people. Her need to get away was stronger than ever. She couldn't have slept any more than the rest of the night of the raid. If she were to escape, she could return home. She concentrated trying to visualize the maps she was made to study. She tried to recall all the rivers and lakes that surrounded her territory.
Courage overflowed her; the rivers were surrounded by allies and friendly kingdoms. If she were to escape, she could go to those kingdoms they would help her, even fight for her! Her allies were strong and would take down these known dangerous foreign raiders. She winced at the idea of these barbarians having already raided all the surrounding kingdoms and that would have been logically to why no warning came to her own.
She felt the floor beneath her give way as she rolled forward and the crates moved to the edge.
"Remove the crates," a voice barked, "It won't float, it will sink."
"Check the girl," another commanded in a gruff voice that made her soul quiver.
She froze her body and tried to be as still as possible, but her heart raced as a rabbit.
"She is still out. You must have hit her with such a force," the men all cackled as one jabbed at the seemingly lifeless sac.
"Get to work, caulk the wagon. We will float across the river," the leader sneered not amused.
The sloshing of boots against the mud and voices trying to overpower another surrounded her. She felt the crates that hugged her sac removed. She was picked up easily and discarded to another part of the wagon like a nerveless piece of cargo. She clenched her teeth to suppress herself from making a noise. It was pertinent for these barbarians to believe that she was still unconscious in order to slip away. Then as quickly as they stopped, they started again and with a sudden jerk her body rolled down as the raiders moved forward.
"The water is not that deep, move faster; we need to get there before sundown,"
What did that mean? Were they going to raid another kingdom? How many prisoners had they already taken and who from her own land joined her? She tried to listen for the cries and tears of her kinfolk but only the rush of water masked her ears and the abhorrent muffle of foreign Aricin tongues.
Frigid cold spilled onto her back as the water soaked the base boards below her. She tried to find her peep hole to see if there was anything that could help her. She located the crates, pieces of the sky and the shore as she rocked back and forth by the water and trudge. She had to do it now. Their own splashing in the water masked their voices even more now. They wouldn't even hear or see her if she rolled off into the water; they all were in front of the wagon. She focused on reaching the other shore. This was her only chance. She began to roll herself to the edge of the wagon, took a deep breath and let herself fall into the river.
The freezing water overcame her, wanting to freeze her heart and muscles. The sac tightened around her body. She was unable to break free. The water's invisible hands tightened the ropes around her hands and feet. She had made a grave mistake, she should have waited till dry land and now she would be overcome by the river.
Her body was jerked up roughly and a knife sliced daylight to her eyes. Her eyes squinted in the blinding light that pained her pupils. She coughed and gasped for air as the man held her up by her wrist bounds. She didn't glance at him but as soon as he had freed her he had thrown onto the cart and cut her legs free. She dashed out of the cart as fast as she could pushing him into the water as she ran towards the shore. She panted for freedom but her step slipped and she was underwater again kicking upward to find the sky.
Again an arm reached for her, grasping her throat and pulling her up; then forcefully pushed her head underwater. She screamed and thrashed in the water, her body in full panic. Her fingers clawed at his strong wrists trying to free herself, her legs kicking to lever her head to the surface. Finally, he let her live. She heaved and choked for air.
"Vile" he snorted.
Two men quickly grabbed her and fastened her bound hands to a rope tied to the back of a horse. She remembered this voice as the leader.
"You are able to walk," He sneered and mounted his horse, "You better keep up or you will be dragged. I don't care if you are dragged to skin and organ. I will not lose time because of you, Vile."
And with that he kicked his horse to a gallop causing her to trip and fall to her stomach in a drag. The men howled with laughter. The horse stopped and the leader smirked as he looked down at her. His eyes glimmered the most entrancing blue-greens that put awe into her heart and yet cause her temper to boil red as hell.
It was a long sad journey; she was farther away than her ally territories. Her soul sank when she realized that the river that almost took her was more than a night sleep beyond the raid away. Her bare feet scraped against the rocks and stung when the shards of fine gravel cut into her soles and burned with the mud. She detested their foul Aricin language that quipped about nothing important. She burned inside with fury as these pigs ignored her very presence. She was to be queen of the most powerful kingdom in the realm. She'd only have to hope for an ally interception of her now. Her animosity kept her off focus from her attempts to keep up with the horse she was tied to and it would then drag her and scrape the skin off her knees and thighs before she could pull herself up.
"Vile" the leader spat at her as he rode his horse back to the front of her catching her attention.
She did not notice that he was behind her or how long he was behind her. She wanted to keep an eye on him. Learning how to become victor over him was her only chance to survive. If she could find his weakness and kill him, she would be free. But no weaknesses were noted. He was more decorated than the rest of his band. He wore his armor despite that the rest had taken most of theirs off and attached it to their horses. His long sword was always in his hand to the ready. She only knew his voice- and the grip of his hands that saved and wanted drown her. He was still damp from their assaults on each other in the water. His dark hair contrasted against his fair Aricin skin and when he talked his smile curled into a wicked toothy grin that probably was famous with the maidens in his land. She caught his eyes staring at her. Green eyes as if to pierce her heart to find the secrets to her weakness.
The decorated horse whined as he dismounted. He tenderly petted his horse's brown and white face and then with a booming voice he instructed his men to set up camp.
