“I WON’T ASK YOU AGAIN. Who’s been helping you? Are they from Easthaven?”
Saleena didn’t know how much more she could take. She hadn’t slept in what felt like weeks, ever since the Black Watch had managed to run her to ground just east of Reed Marsh. She knew she had no one to blame but herself. If she hadn’t been so frightened and just listened to the big woodsman’s advice and stayed put, she wouldn’t be in this predicament.
She was so thirsty. If only they’d let her have a drink of water. Treacherous thoughts formed in the back of her mind. It frightened her just how far she might be willing to go to have just one single sip. But then again, she figured that was the point.
“I told you. I don’t know anything.” She tried smacking her lips, but her swollen tongue was making it difficult. She struggled to work some saliva back into her mouth, but after three days without water, it was a hopeless effort.
The storage room in the back of one of the Easthaven barracks’ buildings, where they had her tied to a chair, was cramped. The smell of men’s sweat and burnt pitch permeated the small room. Although, in her weakened conditioned her senses were somewhat blurred to the effects.
“I don’t believe you.” The Black Watch guard struck her across the face with the back of his gloved hand. The pain was sharp, but soon dulled as it filtered in amongst the other such beatings she had sustained over the last
few days. Thankfully, they hadn’t taken it any further . . . yet. She figured it wouldn’t be much longer until they got around to her clothing.
Saleena wondered what she looked like. She knew what she felt like, but she was strangely curious as to how her pain would translate in a mirror.
Had there been any permanent damage done? She was still young enough to catch the eye of available men, but old enough to know that those looks
were swiftly fleeting. If she didn’t act on them while she had the chance,
she might be spending the rest of her days as an old spinster healer. That is, if the Tower’s guards didn’t kill her first.
If she had the energy, she would have laughed. Here she was tied to a chair, being questioned and beaten by the Black Watch, knowing that the only future that awaited her was a slow and painful death inside the White Tower, and yet, instead of trying to figure out how she was going to get out of this mess, she was spending her time contemplating whether or not men would still find her attractive. Oh well, she thought, it was better than thinking about the pain.
She had always been too preoccupied with learning and experimenting with the natural use of herbs to think about courtship and marriage, but sitting there, bound hand and foot with the constant threat of a slow death looming, she found herself contemplating life’s missed opportunities.
After her parents had passed during an outbreak of winter fever when
she was ten, Saleena had gone to live with her aunt and uncle in Kariss. Her uncle had been the town physicker, and her natural curiosity encouraged him to teach Saleena his trade. She had been a quick study, soaking in all
the information she could. She loved to learn about the symbiotic relationship between the forest and the creatures living within.
It was exciting to see how a single root or piece of bark or leaf, if used properly, could cure illness, calm emotions, increase vitality, and in some
instances halter death. Unfortunately, it was her unending curiosity that had attracted the White Tower.
Once her uncle had gotten to the point that his age hindered him from keeping up with the work, Saleena took over the business. Her studies and use of tonics and tinctures had earned her quite the reputation as a healer. More often than not, she was found traveling from one village, or town, or city to another.
Pretty soon her name became synonymous with miracle worker. She would find a way to cure those that other healers could not. And to save their reputation, those same healers, instead of asking her advice and accepting the knowledge she would have gladly provided, began claiming
she was using the dark arts to do it. Maintaining their reputation was clearly more important than the truth. Pride and greed were the downfall of all men.
“Are you listening to me?” Another hard slap across the face sent her head reeling to the left and her thoughts scrambling. She could taste blood.
In some small way, she was thankful for it. The blood made up for her lack of saliva. She rolled it around on her tongue and then swallowed. “Are there sympathizers here in Easthaven? Are they the ones who were hiding you?” The head guard doing all the talking, Captain Hatch as he called himself, stood off to the right near the entrance and watched.
“No one . . . was helping me.”
“Then how do you explain your escape? Are you saying that you overpowered five of my men and disappeared into the woods in the middle of the night without help?”
She tried moistening her tongue with her blood once again. “Yes. It was me. I did it on my own.”
“Is that so? Then why do my men talk of seeing a large hooded man leading you off?”
Saleena didn’t respond. It had been pure happenstance that she had been spotted by the lone woodsman. She couldn’t remember much about him other than he was one of the biggest men she had ever seen, but also one of the gentlest. He had swooped into their camp in the middle of the night and carried her off like a phantom spirit. Now that she thought about it, maybe he had been a spirit . . . or a dream. Maybe she was still dreaming.
She shook her head. No. He was real. The woodsman must have been an experienced tracker, because he managed to lose the Tower’s guards in the forest fairly quickly. He had left her in the hollowed out stump of a fallen
tree and told her to stay put; that he would be back for her after he led them off. But the longer she waited the more worried she became that her rescuer had been taken and the guards were now coming for her.
Not able to take the silence any longer, Saleena had crawled out of her hiding spot and tried finding her own way. It had obviously been a poor decision on her part. If she’d only stayed put like the man had told her, she might not be in this predicament.
Her head lobbed to the side a moment. Unless, of course, it was a dream.
Apart from the big tracker’s rather notable size and gentle spirit, the only thing Saleena could remember of him was his name: Kellen.
