An arrow thunked into a tree beside her. Blaise screamed and tripped. She was not hit like she thought. Maybe he thinks I’m hit too. She burrowed into the bracken and hid.

  The galloping stopped. Blaise lay still, trying not to wheeze. She heard the jingling of spurs as he dismounted, then footsteps in the underbrush. This is it. My last day! Blaise suddenly felt her chest constrict as she regretted the life she might have had, the one her parents had wanted so much for her that they had given their own. I’m sorry, mother.

  Something startled in the bushes and ran. A deer! The man loosed an arrow and missed, then began chasing it. He thinks it’s me. The animal led him away north. He almost ran right over her in his pursuit but he did not see her. Blaise let him get a little farther past her and scrambled back toward his horse. I can’t ride a horse! Blaise paid no attention to her little voice and stopped when she reached the animal. She looked, remembering how Shrugg had looked and looked everywhere.

  The horse was looking at her with large, intelligent eyes. I can’t hurt a horse! Seely, the village’s last horse, had died over the winter and she had bawled and wept for days. Seely had been old. This horse was like Blaise, young and quick and alive. She couldn’t do it. Think!

  Blaise did what she had to do. She heard the man coming back. He won’t risk shooting his mount. She gave the horse a pat and whispered, “Good horse,” before ducking beneath it and running directly away, leaving the soldier no shot. He crashed through the bracken and put his foot in the stirrup. The whole saddle came away and smashed down, slamming him to the ground. Cursing, he rose and saw the cut leather straps, cut with the tiny knife given her by her parents so long ago. “I’ll get you!” he shouted. “You hear me? I’m coming for you! I’m going to hunt you down like a hare! I won’t kill you quick, either!”

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Blaise tried not to listen to the threats. She didn’t want to think about the violence she had just escaped or the violence he had promised. She just wanted it all to stay away. Get away! This adventure was horrible, nothing like she had expected. She hoped she never had to experience anything like it again.

  Blaise had to slow to a walk. She had no breath. She couldn’t see or hear him. Leaning over, she put her hands on her knees and gulped air for a minute. Then she went on. Fleeing through the forest down a game trail, she had run headlong and seen nothing along the way. Downie is dead. Now far away from the village that was all she knew, she had been alternating walking and running for an hour. The only boy my age in Worthe, the one I was absolutely not going to marry, is dead. The game trail she followed went south but she was now beyond the edge of her experience.

  He died for me. Mercy of the gods! For me! Blaise fell to her knees. She couldn’t hold onto this. It was too huge. It came out as tears, great racking sobs and weeping. Her face soaked in tears and snot and blood, she flung herself on the ground and pounded the earth like a toddler having a tantrum. I don’t want to be saved by him! Blaise did not realize she had been shouting out loud until she stopped for breath and heard the silence.