Pathfinder's Way(20)

This was quite the situation in which she found herself. Her party had  been captured, the others forced to serve the Trateri. The kicker was  she had been the one to rescue the army's Warlord from death.

She was now separated from her group and had failed at creating a chance  for them or herself to escape. The best part were that her maps were  also still in the enemies' possession.

That brought her to the present. Chained to a post, waiting to meet this man she had saved, and no hope for rescue or escape.

Perhaps the guild elders were right when they said she suffered from a serious lack of judgment.

Shea hoped the others would be all right. She hoped she would be all right.

She stretched her legs out and tilted her head back. And back.

She blinked. Then smiled.

Unlike the rest of the tent's flexible, wooden supports, her post wasn't  bound to another at the top by hemp or groove. As thick as her waist,  its base had been buried deep in the ground, making it impossible for  anyone with normal strength to pull it free. This meant its top was free  of any obstructions. And since her chain was looped rather than bolted  into the post, there was a chance she could climb it. A very small  chance, but a chance.

She came to her feet, her eyes glued on the top of the post. That spot  meant freedom, and she was determined to reach it. If she could get the  chain over the top, she could slip it free. Her hands would still be  bound together, but she'd be able to move. To run. She could escape and  worry about freeing herself from the manacles later.

A low rumble of voices filtered into her space, but so far no one had  checked in on her. As long as they stayed in the front area, she might  be able to pull this off.

With a rising sense of excitement, she wrapped her arms around the post  and leapt up while trying to wrap her legs around it. Her legs banged  into the canvas wall and rebounded off. Unable to support her weight  with just her arms, she slid back down to the ground.         

     



 

"Son of a bitch," she swore softly before turning her eyes towards the partition. And waited.

When the conversation behind the wall continued without pause, she figured nobody was coming to check in on her.

Her next two attempts met with similar results. There wasn't enough room to wrap her legs around it.

And time was running out. Each minute brought the confrontation with Fallon just a little bit closer.

The chain binding her hands didn't help either. Vexed, she pulled at it,  causing it to clank up the pole just a little bit. She frowned slightly  as she did it again. She grasped the end and lifted it to chest level,  holding the chain taught so it remained there.

She cocked her head as she studied it. That might work.

When she was younger and still in her apprenticeship, she had visited  the forest of giants in the northwestern edge of the Lowlands. The trees  there were so tall that it was impossible to see the top if you were  standing at its base. The crowns were concealed from view on very cloudy  days. The people there said giants must have tended them as saplings.  Only a giant would have been able to enjoy the splendors in the trees'  canopy.

For those living there today, they wrapped long chains around the tree's  base and used the resulting tension to walk up it. She hoped to do  something similar.

She didn't even get a foot off the ground on her first try.

She stood back and bit her lip. How was she to do this? How exactly could a chain be used to climb?

Her eyebrows furrowing, she gathered the extra chain in her hands,  placed one foot on the wood and leaned back creating a nice tension in  the metal links. Slowly and being careful to not let the chain slacken,  she lifted her other foot off the floor and placed it on the post. Her  breath exhaled in a whoosh as she stayed in place. She picked up the  bottom foot and moved it up, then she loosened the chains and quickly  moved her arms up, taking the chain with it before leaning back once  more. Another foot gained.

Her destination was about eight feet off the ground. Six feet off the  ground and her arms shook with the strain, her abs screamed, and her  legs trembled. It looked so much easier when the forest people did this.

Every inch she gained required a herculean amount of effort and sapped  her strength further. She was breathing hard by the time she was within a  foot of the top. Sweat dripped down her neck as she paused within  inches of reaching her destination.

She hadn't considered what she would do once she got to the top.

At the moment, she was using the chain to anchor herself above the  ground, but once she slipped it over the top, there would be nothing  holding her in place. She would fall. Probably make a lot of noise and  be recaptured in short order.

The chain rattled as she forced it higher. She didn't care. She'd come  all this way and wasn't about to quit now. As the chain slipped over the  top, Shea lost her balance. Her arms jerked over her head as they were  caught by the chain's anchor. She dangled several feet above the ground.

Wondering why she hadn't plummeted straight to the ground, she looked up to find the loop caught on the top of the post.

If Fallon came in right this minute, he'd see what she was up to, and  she didn't really want to think about what would happen next. Not after  Paul's beating.

Setting a foot against the pole, she pushed off and tried to jerk the  chain free. The scrape of metal against wood was as loud as a shout in  the enclosed space. Once again, she checked to make sure nobody was  coming before trying again.

Using her core, she tried to jack knife up and away. With a crack the  chain slithered loose, and Shea landed on her back. The impact forced  the breath from her lungs. She blinked up at the ceiling as she gulped  at the suddenly thin air.

Rolling onto her elbows, she looked at the partition again. She was  surprised no one had come to investigate yet. That fall, especially,  should have drawn some attention.

She climbed to her feet and gathered the chain up, not wanting it to  drag behind her. Perhaps they had lost interest in her now that they  thought they had won.

Either way, it was a little early to be getting cocky. There was no exit  back here and with how tight this tent was strung, there would be no  crawling under the canvas.

She ran her fingertips along the slightly rough texture of the fabric. Perhaps she could cut her way out.

Damon discovered her knife the second day when he finally searched her  for weapons. By the third day, she had secured a semi sharp rock and  then upgraded to a dagger one of the men forgot in his rush to pack when  he overslept. She might have had a hand in his lack of sleep the night  before. Who knew the sound of fog koyots would keep him up all night?  The creatures were harmless as long as you didn't approach their young.         

     



 

The dagger wasn't as sharp as her previous knife, but it was better than  trying to open a hole using just her fingernails. She picked a spot she  hoped wouldn't be seen by anybody entering the front of the tent.

She stabbed, but the blade resisted cutting into the fabric. She pushed  harder until she opened a small slit before attempting a downwards  slice. When that didn't work, she sawed at the canvas.

When the hole was big enough, she peeled one edge back and looked out.  The back of another tent greeted her. She peeked out the other side and  saw the same. Good. Nobody would raise an immediate cry when she slipped  out.

For a moment she hesitated, looking back at the room. The maps were  still in the enemies' possession. She didn't like the idea of leaving  them behind. Unfortunately, she had been supervised every time they had  given her access to her bag and hadn't wanted to chance trying to slip  the maps out of their secret compartment.

But if she didn't escape now, she didn't know if there would be another  chance. She would just have to trust the code on the map was strong  enough to keep its contents secret. Maybe she could figure out a way to  come back for them later.

There was movement on the other side of the partition as the men stood to greet a newcomer.

Time was up.

Shea gathered the chain and slipped one leg through the hole. The rest of her body slid after it.

Outside, she rose to her feet and looked cautiously around, keeping her back pressed against the tent. Her luck held.

She released the breath she had been holding.

The tents backed into each other, leaving only a foot or two between  them to create a small alley. The ropes used to secure the tents created  an obstacle course that only someone as thin and small as Shea could  fit through easily.

She smiled. Perfect.

She moved stealthily along the alley, being careful whenever she came to  the end of one tent and the start of another. Knowing her escape could  be discovered at any moment, she took a few turns so nobody following  her creative exit would be able to immediately see her by stepping  through the hole she'd left.

Minutes after she made the second turn shouts rose from the direction  she'd escaped from. She sped up, lightly leaping over one of the ropes  and ducking under the next.

"Go that way; I'll go this way," a voice said from three rows back and slightly to the right of her.