The small man slammed the door, and the sound of a key locking her in told her she was captured for good.
Bree put her hands over her face and pretended to cry. She had to find out if any of the men had feelings and empathy. Small Man moved to the side of the cage and spoke softly. She sniffed a sob. Maybe he was trying to comfort her.
Keeping her head down and lowering her fingers so she could look up through her lashes, Bree started to smile at the small man, but she caught Big Red leering at her.
Her smile disappeared when the oaf said something that sounded offensive.
He slapped Small on the back, and laughing, they collected their horses and mounted. Toothless said something.
Small Man handed something to the driver.
“Nyns,”the driver answered Toothless, and he hooked the chain that held the key onto a hook in the wood near his knee. The wagon rolled forward.
Bree dropped her hands to her lap.Nynsmeant no. At least she had three words translated. So far so good. She swallowed a snort as she focused on where the driver put the key. If she had something long enough, she might be able to get the key off the hook and drag it close enough to the cage to pick it up.
She grunted and shook her head. Of all the stupid things she could have done when she travelled into the past, she had to hang around in broad daylight. She should have left the side of the road and hid in the trees. She should have known miscreants, slavers, and all-around bad guys would be everywhere.
Letting out a heartfelt sigh, she spotted a small child cowering under a tattered blanket in the back corner of thecage. Bree’s brows rose in surprise. By the braids in her long, fair hair, Bree guessed it was a little girl, maybe ten or eleven.
Bree smiled. “Hello.”
The child’s frightened brown eyes stared at her.
“It’s all right. I don’t think they’re going to hurt us.” Bree hoped she was right and scrambled closer. But the child scampered back against the wires of the cage.
“And I am absolutely not going to hurt you. See? I’m captured too.”
The child covered her head with the blanket and Bree groaned. The poor thing was traumatized.
Bree slid to the door and putting her hand through the grates, felt the lock. It was big and bulky, and the keyhole was oversized. If she had her tools, it would have taken mere seconds to open it. Small Man was riding to the rear of the wagon, and he grinned, wagging his index finger, and shaking his head at Bree.
She clicked her tongue and scooted to the back of the cage. There was no way she could unlock the cage without the key or something to pick the lock with.
She glanced at the child, her large brown eyes peeking over the blanket and watching Bree’s every movement. Even if Bree could find something to pick the lock, she would have to hope the child stayed silent long enough for her to escape.
Or she could take her with her. No. It would be dangerous enough by herself without having another life to look after. At least these men appeared to not want to hurt anyone, at least they hadn’t yet anyhow. But Bree couldn’t be sure the next time she met with a band of brigands; they wouldn’t be a sadistic bunch.
There was only one way out of her predicament. Bree’s hands dove into one of her many secret pockets in her cloak in search of the orb. She felt bad about leaving the child, butwhen she returned with her tools, she would find the slavers and free the child.
That was strange. She was sure that was where she had put the orb. Her hands checked pocket after pocket, her heart missing a beat every time she came up empty. Where was it? By the time she’d searched every pocket in her cloak and dress, every fold in the material of both, she was shaking with fury at her own stupidity. How could she have lost the most important thing in her entire life?
In a last-ditch effort, she got to her feet, bending her upper body over to fit in the cage. She shook her body and twirled her cloak and dress every way possible like a madwoman.
The little girl’s gasp had Bree twisting her head to see what could be wrong. The girl cowered further into the corner, her frightened eyes regarding Bree like she was indeed a madwoman.
Bree let the handfuls of material fall from her hands and smiled, but the girl still cringed away from her.
Sitting back down, Bree cooed, “It’s all right. I was just trying to find something very important to me but,” she shrugged, “it looks like I’ve gone and lost the darn thing.”
She put her hand out to touch the girl’s arm, but the girl pulled it away.
Bree sighed. “I know you’re scared, believe me, I am too. The last thing I wanted was to be caught by Celtic slavers, okay? I’m supposed to find my father and I have no idea where he is. I don’t even know if the people I’m supposed to see are expecting me or if they’ll come looking for me.” She tried to make her face as friendly as possible. “What about you? Do you have people who would be trying to find you? How long have you been captured?”
The girl blinked and that told Bree she could at least hear her, but she never said anything, just sat and stared at Bree.
As darkness enveloped them, and the cold night air seeped into her bones, Bree wondered if the men would stop and rest. Surely, they would feed their captives. But after an hour or more, she decided they weren’t going to stop or feed them.
She shivered and glanced at the child. The child held up the blanket, inviting Bree to share. Bree smiled but shook her head and although she noted the girl wore a bright red coat, she took off her black one and put it over the child.
