Torture and death might await her then.
Not to mention what would be coming her way if they believed she was an actual member of the Resistance and discovered that she had magic to boot.
In all honestly, just an inkling of the latter might seal her fate.
But even if they remained unaware … No indentured servitude for her. That punishment was only meant for those who failed to pay taxes and the like. It was intended for the poor, not for people who deliberately broke the laws of the Kingdom.
So, best-case scenario, Lia was about to become a slave. She was going to disappear without a trace, and Naera would be left to wonder what had become of her, very possibly coming to blame herself, thinking Lia helping with the remedies was what had gotten her into trouble and possibly even led to her demise.
Guilt and pain welled up inside Lia, and for a moment, a single moment, she allowed desperation to overcome her.
She wouldn’t be back to Mearend.
She wouldn’t see Naera or her boys ever again.
Sniffling, Lia wiped her tears on her shoulder. The notion nearly broke her heart, but it was time to push it all away. She had to harden herself and make a clean break.
Lia had only been allowed to resurface in the first place because she’d become attached. Again.
It seemed she hadn’t learned her lesson yet.
Hadn’t the past taught her anything, then?
She’d only ever been Lia to her family and friends. To people whom she loved and who had loved her in return. But as she knew all too well, love was tantamount to pain, loss and heartbreak.
And still she’d allowed herself to care …
Anyway, wherever she was going now, attachments would only give her captors leverage over her, so for her sake and for the sake of everyone who meant something to her, she had to close this chapter of her life. She had to forget and cease being Lia once and for all.
Those people couldn’t have a claim on her heart any longer.
The time had come for her to move on from her current cover, leaving Lianna, the brave but innocent herbalist’s assistant behind, and become someone else, say a rule-breaker without any ties to Mearend.
As of this moment, she was Amelia. A reckless, too-curious girl from the capital city who had gone looking for trouble – and found it.
She was just Amelia. Nothing more. Nothing less.
She had to be.
That was the only way to survive what was to come.
Chapter Four
The sun had already risen by the time they reached their destination.
As the wagon came to a stop, Lia jolted awake from a fitful sleep. For a moment, she forgot where she was and tried to sit up, but the fact that she couldn’t use her hands clued her in pretty fast.
Right.
Instead of attempting to get up anew, Lia – no, Amelia looked around, squinting. The wagon was bathed in bright light, and only the errant strands that had fallen in her face shielded her eyes from it. The sun didn’t seem deterred by the bars on the little window – unlike Amelia whom they’d easily kept confined.
With nowhere to go, Amelia debated what to do. Remaining lying down and pretending to be out was one option, but she’d be even more vulnerable in that position, so she opted for getting up instead.
As she did so, her elbows banged against the wagon floor, jarring her already smarting wrists, and Amelia couldn’t completely suppress her yelp at the pain. Not that it really mattered since the banging sound must’ve already drawn her captor’s attention, clueing him in that she was conscious.
Next, Amelia quickly reconsidered whether trying to attack her captor when the wagon door came open would be a good idea, but given that she’d likely just lost the element of surprise, standing by her former decision to wait and see seemed the wisest choice. After all, she also didn’t know where she was, how many opponents she would be facing and what they intended to do with her. She could always find out more by letting her senses roam free, she supposed, but that would be too risky under the circumstances.
So, biding her time it was.
Soon enough, the crunch of footsteps on gravel alerted Amelia to the approach of someone. Make that more than one, Amelia thought as a latch was released and the wagon door creaked open, at last allowing Amelia to briefly take in the man who had taken her before she was roughly hauled outside and unceremoniously thrown over a broad shoulder.
Amelia’s head protested the sudden movement, and her vision blurred.
“Ho! What d’ya have there?”
The voice came from up front, the direction in which the man carrying her was headed.
“A bit of skirt I caught skulking around in the better part of Fosseat,” came the explanation, then Amelia felt the ribcage below her lower body expanding before the man let out a low chuckle. “’twas clear as day she had no business there,” he went on, then finished with, “Wasn’t paying any mind to the curfew, either.”
Amelia breathed a sigh of relief – that is, as much as she could breathe, thrown over a shoulder as she was.
“Bold,” the first voice commented.
“Or incredibly stupid,” countered her captor. “Anyway, if you don’t mind …”
The rattle of a key turning. Chains clanging. Iron groaning.
“Ya go on in.” Must be the gatekeeper, then, Amelia thought right as he added, “Take it straight to be processed.”
It. Not her.
They were already relegating her to a thing. A lifeless object without a will of its own that could be manhandled and processed – just like that.
This time, when the groaning came, Amelia managed to lift her head a bit. She did so carefully so as not to worsen the pounding in her temples, then tilted it slowly to the right … just in time to see the monstrous metal thing they’d come through clang shut.
The finality of the sound sent a shiver through Amelia.
A bulky figure with big hands and a wide neck lumbered into her field of vision, allowing her to catch a glimpse at the gatekeeper.
He reattached the lengths of chain and the padlocks. Turned the keys.
And locked her inside the camp.
~ *** ~
By the time her captor finally set Amelia down, her stomach was roiling with nausea.
Still, she forced herself to look around and take in as much as possible from her surroundings. She’d need every piece of information she could gain if she wanted to get out of there and – if at all possible – take as many of the other prisoners with her as she could. Every detail could prove to be the one that decided her freedom, so she paid attention and listened, even though she desperately wanted to shut out the outside world, retreat into herself and forget her new reality.
She wasn’t a coward, though.
“What have you got for me?”
The new figure emerged from a corridor and stepped into the dimly-lit, dingy little room.
“A rule breaker. Caught her snooping around where she had no business being. Definitely not at nighttime.” A pause. “None at the inn claimed her when I came forward to present my findings, so I threw her into the wagon. Thought it couldn’t hurt to bring something in before I left with the new load.”
Both men snorted.
“I was on my way here to pick up the new transport, anyway.”
Lowering his eyes, the guard leered at her.
“You just made my day,” he said to her captor with a wheezing laugh, then crooned to Amelia, “We will have so much fun, lil’ missy, oh yes, we will.”
He threw her a cruel smile to make his point.
“Well, possibly not with this one,” announced an unseen man with an authoritative voice.
Upon hearing it, both her captor and the guard snapped to attention, standing up a bit straighter.
Amelia merely turned her head in the direction the voice had come from.
A tall, wiry man stood in the open doorway. He was clad in the same greenish-ashen uniform as the gu
ard but his was made of much finer fabric, and it also bore an insignia of rank.
The chief overseer of the camp.
He let his eyes glide over Amelia’s form. He did so without leering at her like the guard, though.
The chief overseer was merely assessing her.
Maybe that should’ve reassured Amelia that but she couldn’t help but wonder for what purpose he’d looked her over.
“Don’t touch her yet,” the overseer finally ordered. “Process her, then bring her straight to lockup.” As he turned his eyes on the guard, it was clear from his gaze he wouldn’t brook any dissent. “Lord Bryon might have an interest in her.”
Well, that explained it.
The chief overseer wasn’t a bit more humane than the others. In fact, his intentions were even worse. True, he’d just saved her from being molested by the processing guard – but only so he could sell her to the Fae.
~ *** ~
After the chief overseer’s departure, the processing guard had gotten right down to business.
With his good mood clearly ruined, he’d barked question after question at Amelia.
Name. Age. Former occupation.
He hadn’t inquired after what she’d been doing in that inn at night, though.
A small mercy, though if necessary, Amelia certainly could’ve contrived a tale that made her look dumb and harmless.
What now awaited her was bad. Really bad. But on the bright side, they had no idea that she was plotting against their rulers, and as long as she wasn’t locked in a deep dark cell permanently – or lying in a grave somewhere – her chances were … better.
She could still find a way out of this situation.
She could still get free.
After the questions, the time for the more intrusive parts of the intake process had come.
Amelia had been relieved of her clothes in an inner chamber and scrubbed down roughly but thoroughly by two female guards. They’d handed her a simple, worn shift, then led her into a space filled with medical implements.
The examination conducted there had been even more thorough than the ice-cold bath, and with her body strapped down onto a cold surface, there hadn’t been anything Amelia could do to prevent the intrusion.
That’s over with now, though, Amelia reminded herself. Still, she couldn’t keep her arms from wrapping around her middle as she sank down onto the dirty straw in the corner of her cell that was to serve as her mattress.
This was where she would stay until morning came, they’d curtly informed her, most likely so she’d be petrified. Then when the Fae delegation arrived … they’d see.
Amelia wasn’t the only prisoner in this wing of the building. Little cells lined the walls on both sides of the narrow corridor, and as far as she’d seen when the guards had led her to the one she was in now, nearly all of them were occupied by young women.
Maybe in this camp, prisoners were divided into groups based on age and gender. Maybe that’s all there was to it. Amelia, however, didn’t think so.
The chief overseer had announced in her presence that a Fae Lord was coming.
It seemed he was looking for young human flesh.
Amelia rubbed her face with both hands and took a deep breath.
There was no reason to ponder what the next day would bring, not when she’d already gone through everything she’d heard so far in her head and done her best to piece it all together.
If she wanted to find out more, she’d need new information.
Amelia lowered her hands into her lap, then turned her gaze to the cell opposite hers. A woman was huddled in corner. With her knobby knees pulled to her chest and her face pressed tight against them, Amelia couldn’t make out much, but the other woman was clothed in the same white, nearly see-through shift as Amelia, and the thin material couldn’t hide the state she was in.
The prisoner was thin as a rail and her ribs were showing. Though her skin shone red, it wasn’t a sign of good health but rather the result of having been scrubbed nearly raw. Her long, dark hair must’ve been washed recently, too, because it wasn’t greasy. Nevertheless, it looked limp and dull. The curls fell lifelessly around the prisoner’s shaking shoulders.
In a couple of weeks, Amelia might present a similar picture.
She wasn’t too plump to begin with, but her lean body was lined with sleek muscles, at least for now. After living on the generous and nutritious fare prisoners evidently received here, though, she would fade away, too, until she was only a measly collection of skin and bones.
No, Amelia thought. She wouldn’t let it get that far. She would find a way to get out of this camp, one way or another.
She wouldn’t just accept that this was her fate and give in.
She’d just have to wait till things settled down and got back to what passed for normal around here. Then she’d be able to learn how well-guarded the camp was, who was allowed into the more secure parts or near the gates, and when the shifts changed.
She’d be on the lookout for any weaknesses in the wall, or maybe find a spot where it was possible to climb over it without detection. She’d formulate a plan and escape, even if it meant getting the keys to the gates and taking out the guards there so she could walk right out.
First, she had to get through the next day, though.
With that in mind, Amelia turned to the shaking prisoner across from her and asked, “What’s your name?”
No response, so she tried again.
“Do you know why all the prisoners in this wing are so young?”
If she disregarded the fact that the poor woman’s shaking had intensified, silence was her only answer.
Amelia heaved a sigh.
“Why were you brought here?”
Again, the same. There was no response from the woman.
Closing her eyes, Amelia let her head fall back against the cold wall with a thud.
“We’re not supposed to talk.”
The raspy voice coming from her right was barely above a whisper. Still, Amelia’s eyes immediately snapped open. She cocked her head, waiting.
When the speaker didn’t say anything further, she asked another question, trying to elicit another answer from her.
“Do you always do as you’re told?”
That inquiry earned her a snort.
In the cell to her left, someone shifted around. The next reaction came from that direction, “You better learn to do so around here, and you better learn it fast.”
That was probably good advice.
“Don’t hold your breath,” Amelia quipped, then added, “I’m not planning on that.”
“Then you’re a fool. You should change your mind before they make you.”
Well, that said a lot. Amelia couldn’t exactly tell them she wasn’t planning on sticking around, though, so she asked instead, “Then why talk to me at all?”
The second woman fell silent, but the owner of the raspy voice spoke up, “Reckoned you deserved a warning.”
So she wasn’t the only one around here who was still concerned about what happened to others.
“Thank you,” she said in earnest. “But still, why the separation into age groups? Is that common practice here?”
While she waited for an answer, Amelia tried stretching out her legs in front of her, but the stone floor proved to be too cold on her bare calves so she tucked her feet under her instead.
“No,” came the hesitant reply after a while. “Normally, we women all sleep in one big room.”
“So is it because of the Fae visit?” Amelia ventured, holding her breath.
Someone gasped. At the same time, the woman on Amelia’s right muttered, “That didn’t take them long.” A pause. “It seems someone is rather well-informed.”
“I heard some guards talking when I was being processed,” Amelia explained while she thought about what reactions her question had elicited.
It seemed the others didn’t find the prospect of being taken by the Fae enticin
g, either, and from what the neighboring cells’ inhabitants had let slip, it wasn’t the first time that a Fae had come to the camp.
Women were already being taken – but what about children?
Were they really running out of humans in the Upper Kingdom?
She had to know more.
“Where are we, anyway?” Amelia queried, returning to her original line of questioning.
“You really must be new,” the raspy voice surmised.
“True enough. I was captured last night.”
Another gasp.
“Going from freewoman to prisoner to slave in a matter of barely more than a day …”
“She might not get chosen,” the other woman cut in vehemently, but she sounded like she was losing hope herself.
The speaker trailed off, and a heavy silence descended. Amelia could practically feel it pressing in on her.
“So?” Amelia prompted, as much to break the quiet as to gather more information, but for a while, no response was forthcoming.
Amelia was about to give up for the night and settle down to sleep when the woman on her right stirred again.
“This is Inherell.”
The response was delivered in a whisper that Amelia could scarcely hear but it confirmed her assumption.
The knowledge settled in her stomach like lead.
All at once, she was the one gasping for breath and she couldn’t stop her hands from shaking.
She was in the prisoner camp for human criminals.
Amelia might not have been brought in for being a spy but she’d still landed in the same place they would’ve taken her, had they been aware of her leanings.
People she knew and had been working together with for years might be tortured in here right now. Resistance members might very well await execution in another wing, and for all she knew, Vik might be one of them.
What if he’d gotten caught as well?
“Hey,” Amelia heard vaguely, but she didn’t really grasp that she was the one spoken to.
“Hey, you!” The same voice came again, this time more forcefully, jerking Amelia out of her musings.
Hidden Revenge Page 3
