She woke groggy the next day. The fire smouldered next to her and she was covered in a blanket she hadn't had the night before. She sat up and looked around her, he mercenary, Ezekiel, was standing with his horse.
"Get up. It's almost time to go."
A thick, dry biscuit landed in the moss in front of her. It wasn't much, but she hadn't eaten in two days so she looked at it like a feast as far as she was concerned. She gobbled it quickly and stood, keeping the blanket around her. He turned away and she saw an opportunity to do her morning needs while he wasn't watching. Then she drank deeply from the stream again. She did feel better, the salve he'd given her had done wonders. Her skin was still a bit red, but it didn't hurt anymore. Even the welts from the slaver's lash no longer felt swollen.
Her feet were a different story, They already hurt though she was only walking on the soft moss of the clearing and she knew if she looked, they'd be a mess of cuts and blisters from the day before. She hoped they didn't have far to go today.
She clasped the blanket around her shoulders tightly, as if that would offer her any real protection. "Where are we going?"
Ezekiel said nothing at first and she thought perhaps he wasn't going to tell her. He gave one of his sighs. "To the keep." he said finally as he snatched the blanket from her. She gasped, but he ignored her, rolling it up and stowing it on the horse without another word. He tied her hands as he had the day before and lashed her to his horse. He took them back to the road.
"Is it far?"
He muttered something about indulged house slaves. "Walk quickly and we'll get there faster." He grunted out and she bit her tongue to not say anything else.
She stared at his back with a frown as he mounted his horse and they began their path again. Before long, her feet cried out in pain as they travelled over the rough stones and sand of the path. She tried to walk on the edge in the grass and moss whenever she could. She also began to pick at the knot in the rope. She knew something about knots; not the names or anything so involved, but her seafaring uncle had taught her some and Ezekiel had used one that was similar. She'd be able to get it undone eventually.
She didn't make a sound as they travelled and he never once looked back. After awhile, her deft fingers slowly but surely began loosening the rope around her wrists, but when it suddenly and very abruptly fell to the ground, she tensed, sure he would notice. She'd meant to hold on until the last moment but now it was being dragged along the ground, sans prisoner.
Her eyes darted to him, but he hadn't taken his eyes from the road ahead. Without a second thought, she dashed into the undergrowth, trying to be as quiet, but as quick as she could be. Ignoring the pain in her feet, she dodged trees and stumps. Running like her life depends on it, because it did, she thought.
Ezekiel did not know why he looked back when he hadn't all this time. Maybe because he heard a sound that wasn't their before or maybe the lack their of, like the sound of her steps. She wasn't their and he smirked. That little girl is trying to make a fool out of him, she's going to have another thing coming. He stopped his horse and got off it, his tracker senses already alert he briefly walked towards the path that he knew she took.
How dare she, that unworthy slave. He'd been a picture of respectability last evening despite wanting to give her a good, hard fucking, still ran at the first opportunity. She'd learn soon enough that he and the others were not like the noble family her kin served. Thieving would be punished harshly and seduction, he grinned, well she could try to seduce them if she liked. Gods she'd probably succeed, but she'd get no special treatment for the effort.
