I closed my eye—I still couldn’t feel my right one and had to assume ‘twas lost to me—and inhaled slowly, pretending I could smell the communal fires and the fir boughs my people would have gathered for our celebration a sennight ago. The Midwinter’s Feast was a sacred beginning, and I vowed I would celebrate with them next year.
The full moon is only days away.
Whatever Tarbert had planned for me at tonight’s “Hogmanay” celebration, I planned to use it to my advantage.
Yesterday, Lillian had returned with more tea and to check my bandages. But she hadn’t come alone, much to my irritation. Instead of bribing the guards with food, this time she allowed them to step into the cell with her, to stand by as she hurried through her ministrations with her head down, her gaze locked on her hands.
I said nothing to her, made no effort to draw her into conversation…but I wondered if her performance was for the sake of the guards, or for herself. Had something happened after she’d left me the day before, or was this new fear because of what I’d said? Because I’d touched her?
Nay, ‘tis no’ fear ye scent.
That afternoon when I’d tasted her skin, I’d smelled her arousal. ‘Twas faint, but there, and I wondered if she was aware of it.
And after months of her presence in the dungeon, I was familiar with the smell of her fear.
But yesterday? That hadn’t been fear I’d scented. There’d been exhaustion, aye, and I was afraid she was working herself too hard for a bastard of a father who didn’t appreciate her. There was impatience and even wariness…but not fear.
My wee human, who was afraid of so much in this world, wasn’t afraid of me.
MyKteerhad hummed in satisfaction at that, and mayhap Lillian heard it, because she’d sent me a sharp, concerned glance before dropping her gaze once more.
I hadn’t grinned, but ‘twas close.
The meal she’d brought me yesterday had been little more than old bread soaked in broth. Not unexpected fare in a dungeon, and one I’d become used to…but after several days of the meat and pottage she’d brought me, my stomach had hoped for better.
I hadn’t dared joke with her about it, though, knowing the guard was fingering his blade as he watched us.
When they left, he took the metal tray she’d propped up days ago to give me light. I saw Lillian frown at him when he picked it up, but she said naught.
I was much, much colder after she’d left.
‘Twas a good thing, I told myself. It meant the fever had left me for good. And aye, I could feel myself growing stronger. Despite being chained since my last escape attempt, I felt better than I had before. Lillian’s yarrow tea, good food, and poultices had?—
Nay. ‘Twas herkindnesswhich had healed me, I knew it.
And so, to keep the cold at bay, I spent the hours flexing and stretching. I pushed myself from my haunches to my knees again and again until I could do it easily. Then I challenged myself to rise to my feet. The first time I did it, I fell on my arse, and ‘twas fooking difficult to rise again with my arms manacled above my head.
But I did it.
Then I did it again. And again.
Standing took the strain off my arms and wrists, and although I couldn’t lower them, thanks to the chains, I nearly groaned in relief at the sensation ofnothaving my shoulders stretched so impossibly far.
I spent the afternoon leaning against the wall, panting with the effort of remaining upright, and when I could stand no longer, I knelt again, my knees easily holding me.
Soon. They’ll free ye soon, for whatever Tarbert has planned.
Whenever the guards weren’t looking, I stretched. My muscles in my arms had knotted in these positions, and my movements knocked most of Lillian’s bandages to the floor. My wounds—especially the one on my arm—looked nasty, but I could feel the skin knitting already.
I would be ready.
I had to be.
‘Twas well after dark when I heard the procession coming for me. The clink of chain mail and weapons, the call of boisterous voices. The guards had been celebrating already.
I told myself ‘twas a good thing; they’d be easier to overcome, when I was ready.
But six of them came into my cell, and they weren’t alone.
