Teaser Tuesday ~ THE DRAGONS' STONES
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| From "The Dragon Books" |
Studying the gaps, I realized I only needed to break one beam. That would give us the space to squeeze out to freedom.
I glanced at the slavers. Two still squatted next to the fire. The others lay with their backs to it, chest rising and falling steadily. Two. I could take two, if I could only reach my sword. Where was it? My eyes worked slowly over the slavers, trying to find it.
The closest sleeper had only his weapons and one blanket. The two next the failing flames spread empty hands towards the heat, casting long finger-shadows into the night beyond the glow. The other sleeper lay half-hidden by those two, and I frowned in frustration.
“He has it,” I whispered to myself.
“Who has what?” Ciara asked from her place in the corner.
I waved her off with a flick of my hand. “Nothing. Go back to staring at the stars.”
“Hmm.”
I shook my head and turned back to the slavers. Could I get past the awake two and grab my sword fast enough? Maybe. Only one way to find out, I decided. I reached back and tapped Ciara’s shoulder.
“I’m busy staring at the stars, as requested.”
“Good. Now stop.”
She looked up, the corners of her mouth dipping downward. “Why?”
“It’s time to get out of here.”
I shoved against one of the beams. It splintered under my palm, and I shoved again. It fell to the dirt with a crunch. I jerked my head at the opening. Then I ducked and pushed my body through it. One of the other beams cracked, but I made it out of the pen.
I looked back at Ciara. “Come on.”
“If my dress or cloaks rip, it’s your fault.”
“Right, but so is your freedom. So….”
She slid through the opening, none of her clothes catching. She paused to brush off dirt and leaves, but I didn’t stay for that. My feet pushed against the ground as I bolted towards the fire.
The squatters looked up at the noise. My fist smashed into the first’s jaw. He fell away, and I kneed the other in the nose.
“Aah!”
He hit the leaves as I ran on. The sleeper - the leader - was on his side, a blanket up to his chin. I rip it away from him. Under it, I saw my sword. I dropped to my knees and snatched it up. It felt right to hold it again.
“How did ye get out of de pen?”
The leader sat up, but I leveled my sword at him. “Stay there.”
I heard the crunch of stepped-on leaves and glanced over my shoulder. Ciara stood between the two fallen slavers. She looked down at me and shook her head at something.
“What?” I asked, turning back to the leader.
“These men…. They deserve punishment,” she said, and her tone was like a winter night.
I stared at her. I agreed with her, but somehow I still thought we meant two different things. A voice like that rarely meant a time-out. Her face carried no emotion, and it reminded me of a mountain under snow. Smooth and hard and feelingless. I swallowed as I remembered the final word I’d used to describe that mountain. Scary.
“What… what kind of punishment?” I asked.
“Slavery is illegal in Crosia,” she said. “The law calls for banishment.”
“You don’t have a way to enforce that.” I breathed out my relief in a thick stream of air.
“No, I don’t. I will brand them instead.”
“What! You can’t!”
“I can.” And she leaned down to the fire and picked up a smoldering branch from it. “And I will.”
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| From "Far Over the Misty Mountains" |
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