Chapter Fourteen: Dreaming of Escape

“We’re heading back to the fork and then we’re heading west, boys!” Varick yelled thrusting a fist into the air made even more forceful by his stolen horse neighing.

Bouncing and shifting on Tristan’s horse, my bound hands inhibited my ability to adjust myself. I had never ridden before; sidesaddle made it no easier. I could not even protest when Ace had insisted I ride like a lady. I was beginning to resent Dill’s plan.

Tristan rested my head on his chest. “Try to rest,” He cooed gently.

With the moon as the only light and the warmth from Tristan’s body, my eyes closed quickly even if I was not entirely comfortable as the horse jostled me.

The smoke curled around my fingers, black as midnight and frozen. It was hardly visible in the crisp night air. Autumn was definitely coming if it was not here yet. Soon the smoke swirled into a funnel. The whirlwind slapped my hair across my face.

“Ah, Genevieve, or do you go more by Natalie these days?” Sleepwalker teased.

“It wasn’t my plan. It was Dill’s,” I replied, rubbing my sore wrists. They were raw where the ropes had abraded them. “Ouch. Why did you not just tell me that if I did not take the west, I was going to be kidnapped? I would have listened to you had you told me that instead of an ambiguous warning!” I snapped huffily, though I was more upset with myself than Sleepwalker. I crossed my arms defiantly.

“My apologies, next time, I will tell you exactly what the future holds.” His voice oozed with sarcasm. “You cannot rely on divine spirits to tell you everything!”

I sighed, “I can only be angry at myself. I apologize. Could I have your advice?”

“Me? The giver of ambiguous warnings? Whatever could you need my advice for?” The heavy sarcasm had returned in his tone.

“How do I escape these thieves? They are expecting a heavy sum of money for my return to a fictitious duke.” I scratched the back of my head nervously. “I do not know who else to ask as I cannot speak freely without their notice.”

“Well, what do you know of the thieves?” Sleepwalker queried.

I thought about how much I actually did know about them. “There are five of them. There is Tristan, Varick, Ace, Goliath, and Lister. Tristan does not wish to be a thief. He does so for his mother’s health. Goliath is a mountain. Lister is a light sleeper. Varick enjoys hunting and…alliteration. And Ace has a beard. He also is a bit taken with me.” I stated surprised at the bit of knowledge I had learned of each man.

“And what of you? What have you when you’ve not a voice nor a thought?”

“I’m but a useless body, scarcely a person,” I slouched. “But, a body…Ace. And Tristan would not stop me if he does not wish to be a thief. I would have to be quiet with Lister about. In Goliath’s size, he is surely lumbering and slow. Varick though, I would merely hope for him not to awaken.” I pondered even further.

“What if I told you that Varick has a wife named Marian, whom he courted purposefully for her name among… her other womanly attributes.”

“Marian Varian?” I queried doubtfully. “So he likes alliteration…and rhyming. Poetry! Varick Varian likes poetry. Thank you, Sleepwalker.”

He held his hands up defensively, “I did nothing. Strategy runs in your blood, Genevieve much more than it does in Anteater’s.” He grinned at me impishly.

“What do you mean by that? Is that a hint about my moth-” Before I could finish, I felt a crushing pain hit my shoulder and then throughout the entire left side of my body.

My eyes popped open. My face was in the dirt. Disoriented and drowsy, I sat up. Sloppily, I wiped my eyes with my dirty bound hands. “Ugh.” My dress was filthy.

Goliath lifted me by my armpits like a baby and set me on the massive black horse that he had selected. Then he hopped on behind me. “Stupid girl,” He murmured, flicking the reigns at the horse. “Stupid, stupid, girl,” He said ruefully, cupping my chin. His hand was larger than my entire face, though he stroked my cheek so gingerly.

In addition to my stiff muscles, the left side of my body now throbbed too. I rolled my shoulders, attempting to relax as the horse kicked up violently. I exhaled noisily.

The light clop of the horses’ hooves became a dull pound in the side of my head as exhaustion wore at me. Far off, I could hear Varick’s voice chortling joyously. My left shoulder steadily worsened from a twinge to a constant throb. As I shifted, my foot knocked something out of the saddlebags. The simple plop startled me.

“Tristan, pick that up!” Goliath grumbled pointing at the fallen book. Without so much as a glance backward, he rode on. “We have to keep pace! Don’t fall behind.”

“Of course, sir.” Tristan leapt from his horse as I turned my head as much as possible to see around the giant mountain of a man obstructing my view.

With his dark curls falling forward in his face, Tristan held the book to its open page. Then he cocked his head curiously, scanning the page. After snapping it shut, he mounted the horse once more and kicked it to carry on. His face was in a pout.

The night wore on slowly. Since I could see no farther than ten feet in front of me, I studied the creases in my hands to pass time. I also tried to tie together an escape plan.

Lure Ace into untying you, use Tristan’s pity to help stealth, be quiet not to awaken Lister or Goliath, and for Varick, use…poetry? What good is poetry if I cannot speak? I should tell Armadillo about all of this. I mapped the scene in my head. When they untie my wrists, the branch would make at least a rustle. I wonder how far Dill has gotten to get our stuff back. I groaned aloud in irritation, oddly not muffled by the gag.

The horse wasn’t fond of my reaction as it kicked and bucked at the slightest noise. It squiggled and squirmed, trying to throw me off its back. My attempts to soothe it by brushing its neck were futile and it continued to neigh dissatisfied with me.

Then I fell flat on my back; dust billowed. I moaned again as Dill picked me up.

“She has a way with the beasts,” he joked to the others. To me, his whispered almost silently, “Are you alright?” His tone was heavy with concern.

“Hey, lover boy, why don’t you kiss it better for her?” Ace interjected. An ugly smirk ran across his bearded face. “Go on! Kiss her!”

Horrified, Armadillo gaped down at me. His jaw hung low. His mouth was wide open. He cleared his throat. “Perhaps now is not the right time.”

“I thought you loved her body.” Varick questioned skeptically. “Go on. What is a kiss to the other claims you’ve made to her body?” He untied the gag, leaving my mouth ajar almost as wide as Armadillo’s. Varick scrunched his nose. “I’m waiting, Felix.”

Quickly, he pecked my cheek. Relieved and flustered, he pulled back. “Done.”

“Come on, Felix! That was nothing!” Lister complained loudly. “A better one!”

My cheeks were ruddy. My heart pounded, creeping up from my chest. He kissed me… He kissed me. He kissed me? The sharp tug of a cloth returned my senses to me.

Dill fastened it in the back. “I am not one for a show,” he stated modestly and solemnly. Soon enough, he hoisted me onto the chestnut horse that the thieves had stolen for him. After leaping onto the horse, he whispered in my ear again, “Are you alright?”

I nodded to him. The heat hadn’t left my face yet, but at least my heart slowed.

“My apologies for that. I just had to. You realize… something…right?”

I grinned awkwardly through the gag with another nod.

“Eh, Varick? I have to…take care of some business in the woods, so I’m going to drop behind.” Dill called up to him, halting the horse and allowing Goliath to pass.

Tristan gave us a contemptuous glare as his horse strutted by.

Armadillo dismounted and disappeared for a few moments. When he reemerged, he clambered back up. With a sigh, he removed the gag. “That was relieving.”

“Spare me the details. Have you thought of any plans to get us out of this so I can talk again? I have some ideas, but I’m not sure how to tie them together.”

“Well, throw a few of them at me. I’ll see if I can’t help you.” Armadillo offered.

Uncomfortable, I hesitated, “Well, my main distraction involves seducing Ace into untying me while you take care of Varick by… reciting poetry.”

“Seducing Ace? Reading poetry? Are you stupid?” He demanded in a low voice still resounding with anger. “Just how hard did you hit your head?”

“Varick Varian of the Valiant Villains, lover of hunting and alliteration. And Sleepwalker told me that he courted his wife because her name is Marian.”

He grimaced. “Who’s Sleepwalker? More importantly, who would wed Varick?”

“Sleepwalker is the figure from my dreams; he dislocated my shoulder. I suppose that would be one Marian Varian, lover of thieves and rhyme.” I grinned cheekily. “Tristan does not wish to be a thief. He only does so for his mother,” I informed him.

“We may use that to have him help us. I did not care for that look he gave us though. I think he fancies you. Do you think that he would still help me as well as you?”

“He does not fancy me…He fancies Natasha Bon-Bon…or whatever it is.”

“Natalie Bonaparte after Napoleon Bonaparte, a great military leader from the area where Lieuvenir is now. Have you studied an hour of the Old Era? Your lack of knowledge is sickening.” He stayed silent for a moment while I glared at him.

I snapped, hushed, “You can give me a history lesson when I’m not a hostage and you’re not my lover, okay? For now, you need to think up some fast verse for Varick.”

“Ah, I have a favorite poem. I am not sure how it sounded in its original language, but I like it very much. I am sure you would as well. It deals with Greek Mythology-”

As Goliath eyed us distrustfully, I fretted, “I suppose I will hear it when you say it to Varick. For now, though, gag me. I think they are starting to catch on.”

Armadillo wrapped it tighter than any of the other men had. “Just in case,” he assured me gently. “As for our stuff, I fear that the actual stealing of these horses only went slightly well. The wranglers looted your pouch as well as mine. Everything in there is gone. Why were you carrying so much money in the first place? Were you looking to be robbed?” When I glowered, he coughed, “Right, that is not a comfort at this moment. Everything else is still in tact though, even your pocket watch and your dagger.”

I sighed in relief at the thought, but then I thought about the other half of my money in my knapsack and hoped it hadn’t been rummaged or destroyed. With my bound hands, I awkwardly patted my back to ask him about the bag.

Amused, Dill shook his head. “I don’t think they’ve looted your knapsack. Though, I should wonder if they’ve touched your undergarments,” He mused mockingly.

My eyes widened and I peered up at Dill horrified. “Yuh dun sink they dey?”

He snickered, “With that gag on, you really could be speaking Lieuvi. I was joking with you. I don’t think they’ve touched your…panties.” He giggled.

Giving him a withering stare, I lowered my eyebrows. I leaned back against him and closed my eyes. “Dun bin thum imuhtur.” I muttered against the gag agitatedly.

At my strains to speak, he merely laughed more. When the Valiant Villains noticed, he cleared his throat. “It is a Lieuvenirian joke. It goes like this. A farmer falls into a hole filled with water and he says, ‘Oh, well!’ Get it?” He snorted a laugh.

“Perhaps people will laugh at your jokes when you’re rich. Now, can we please continue to Dunver?” Goliath grumbled to Tristan who only turned his head in reply.

“My apologies, fellows, the translation is not nearly as humorous,” Dill said.

The ride was long and silent until the sun began to peek up from under the landscape. Bathed in a tide of ruddy light, the trees began to regain their chartreuse shading. Some leaves had darkened into a bright tangerine color, even a radiant scarlet. This light was tainted slightly because it did not provide the warmth it had but a day ago.

When the crisp cool air sliced through my thin dress, I shivered lightly.

At this, Dill unbuttoned his shirt and draped it over my shoulders. “It’s not much, but it will do,” He admitted. When I attempted to shake it off of my shoulders, refusing to take it, he buttoned it over my bound arms, constraining me. “Now try to remove it.”

The rough cloth was warm from Armadillo’s body heat. The white shirt hung loosely over my frame with a strange bulge in front where my arms were tied together.

A coin dropped from Dill’s pocket; a small metallic ping resounded.

He jumped from the horse to retrieve it when a plant caught his eye. He plucked many of the green stalks topped with bursting bulges and oozing with liquid. “Well, Lister, sleep lightly no more. Do you know what these are?” He questioned in a mutter. When I shook my head, he continued, “Opium poppy plants. My grandmother taught me to make tea of it. Today, I’ll gather our stuff and tomorrow, we’re ditching these thieves.”

 I tried to grin, but the gag’s tug on my cheeks hurt too much. Instead, I nodded.

“Felix, veer off to the left. We’re finding camp for the day,” Varick called.

Dill held up his thumb in response and sharply turned left.

Violently, I jerked to the side and nearly fell from the horse again, but Armadillo’s hand caught the back of my dress and the collar of his shirt.

He reeled me back against his bare chest. Since my heart was still beating rapidly from nearly falling, he muttered into my ear, “Don’t worry. I have you.”

The forest was even colder than the road was in the early dawn. The trees prevented any of the light’s heat from reaching the ground.

Varick led us into a small clearing where everyone made haste in setting up, eager to rest after a night’s travel. “Felix, you had previously arranged for Natalie’s uncle to meet in Dunver, correct?” He queried, raising a tawny nearly invisible eyebrow.

“But of course! Might I have my bag back? I have a spare shirt in there.”

Goliath tossed it to Armadillo, who caught it easily and pulled out a grey shirt to cover himself. “Well, I’d best take care of the girl. You want your other shirt, Felix?” Before Dill answered, Goliath ripped it over my head, jerking my already sore body. He untied my wrists, which were now raw and bleeding with rope burn. Then he tied me as he had the previous day from another high tree branch.

Once everyone else was in respite, I watched Dill conceal his poppy plants in his bag until he boiled them into tea. After rummaging around in some of the bags, he tucked away. His snores told me to sleep; I shut my eyes, but a rustling opened them.

It was not Dill that stood before me, but Tristan. “Care to explain, Jenny?”

Author's Note

Go cliffhangers? Anyway, I sometimes surprise myself with what I do for you readers. So far Sleepwalker has required multiple trips to Google Translate, the sniffing of a leather jacket, researching rain noises, and talking after gagging myself. This is officially too long...Thanks for reading!