The Escape: Chapter Nine

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The princess woke with a throbbing head. Pound, pound, pound. Each breath she took made it worse. She squinted. Her cheek itched from the dirt that stuck to her dried tears. She shifted, realising that rough twine bounded her arms. Her fingers and toes tingled from the rope's tightness. Everything seemed blanketed in a cloud of grey. Barely any light was coming through to the ground.

Mumbling sounded behind her, and she could smell meat being cooked over a fire to her right. The warmth of the flames didn't reach her, but she heard it crackling and figured she was being kept on the outside of their camp. Close enough if she was needed, but not too close to get in her way.

Elsa winced from the pain in her legs and head. She had never been hit before in her life and was sure she didn't want to be hot ever again.

Closing her eye, she tried to remain still as she thought up a plan. She's already escaped a ball full of suitors, a tournament with the whole kingdom watching, and an armed castle with her own person knight champion. The could.t be much harder. 

The edge of her mouth curled into a smile. When she made it out of here, she's free.

Feigning unconsciousness, she overheard snippets of her captors' conversation. For the most part, it was a jumble of grunts, moans, and mumbles, but when they raised their voices, she heard them loud and clear.

"It was her, I tell you. I saw the clothes. It was the same blue she was wearing at the tourney," one man said. 

"She never goes beyond the castle walls. Why would she be near the forest?" Another asked, not too interested.

"I don't know, but that's her dress," the first man defended himself.

"Is the meat done? Hey, stop that!" Another roared. "I just sharpened it."

"Look. We can get her," the first one whined. "Think about it..."

"Mmm..." the second responded, seemingly more interested.

"Think of the ransom or reward. Did you see the diamonds on it? With just one of those, we'd be rich."

"Rich doesn't matter if you can't spend it. The king would have our heads. If we got caught, we'd be dead men," the second man countered.

Laughter roared through the air.

"The old fool couldn't catch me. But if he did, it's just more reward for you." More laughter followed. "I'm going to get her."

"Suit yourself."

Elsa bit her lip harder, hoping she had heard wrong. Her stomach turned just thinking about it. Their laughter did little to calm her. There was no way to warn the girl she had traded dresses with. There was nothing she could do but hope they didn't follow through.

The shuffling she head in the distance came at her more loudly. She held her breath, forcing herself to remain still, and heard her heart pounding hard in her chest. Each second seemed to last an eternity. The pointed end of a stick bit into her ribs. In agony, she managed to control her emotions and hide the pain. A putrid smell encircled him. With closed eyes, she imagined a large man with a scraggly beard and crooked, rotten teeth pocking at her.

"Hey, Mason," he yelled, "How hard did you hit her?" There was more grumbling as he walked away. 

Elsa exhaled slowly and relaxed, relieved that they hadn't tried harder to wake her up. She had heard stories about the forest bandits. One of her favourite childhood games, knights and bandits, highlighted their thievery and cruelty. Now they didn't seem so innocent.

She needed to think. Here she was, entangled in their roped and subject to their plan. She needed to get out of here before they forced her awake.

It seemed like forever to her, lying still with her eyes closed. Without something to keep her mind busy, time froze. Even in her room, she always had other activities to pass the time. Thoughts flowed through her mind, but nothing soother her for long. She sang songs to herself, counted to one hundred, counted in different languages, did anything she could to keep her mind off an itch on her neck that had started to bother her. She knew her only hope was to remain still for as long as possible. Unfortunately, that itch didn't understand and kept getting worse as the times passed.

Elsa shivered. The air chilled around her, her breath clouded, and the ground began to freeze. The crackling of the fire became clearer above the bantering of the bandits, and she cricked her nose at the obvious smell of stale ale. By the stench, she assumed they'd spilt more than they drank. Laughter and belches ran through the air, growing louder as time passed.    

She rethought her plan, knowing the time to act was soon. The plan seemed simple. Simple worked for her. Wait until they were all asleep, untie her legs and arms, and run as fast as she could back towards her home. Once she was back on familiar ground, she could re-evaluate her next move. 

The noise got louder and louder as the night went on. The men laughed as they swore, using words she had never even heard before. 

She still didn't feel enough to open her eyes, so she had to imagine what was going on by the sounds. She cringed every time metal ht metal. She heard trees shake and brushes bend. The noise escalated until there was an eruption of laughter, and then the camp finally fell silent. 

After a while, all she could hear was the crackling of the fire, a few snores, and some heavy breathing. Her chance had come. Elsa opened her eyes and looked around. Under the darkness of night, the trees seemed overbearing. Bushes and branches crinkled under a whistling breeze.

In a pile by the fire, their weapons gleamed. The orange flames reflected off sharpened edges and cast horrific shadows. Behind the weapons, she saw the bandits, fast asleep. 

Now that it was time and she saw her captors and their weapons, her heat throbbed with fear.

Rubbing her legs together, she loosened the restraints. "Almost, just a little more," she whispered, biting her lower lip as the pain burned through her torn skin. "Just a little more."

She ripped her legs free and began to work on her arms. The knots cut her and no matter how hard she rubbed them together, they refused to give way. She would have to run with her arms bound.

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