He disappeared back to the other side of thetent.
As soon as he was out of sight, Shea bent toexamine her bindings. There was a small keyhole on each manacle anda four-inch chain ran between her wrists. She had never been goodat picking locks. She also didn’t have the necessary tools.
Trying to slip her wrists out of the cuffdidn’t work. Her hands were too big, and she wasn’t quite desperateenough that she was willing to dislocate her thumbs.
Shea sighed. Standing took energy so she satand leaned against the post. Anybody who spent a lot of timewalking knew that when you had the chance to sit, you made the mostof it because you never knew when you’d get to take a seatagain.
Closer examination of her circumstancesdidn’t fill her with confidence. The post she found herself chainedto was thicker than her waist. An experimental yank on the chaindidn’t budge it. It had likely been pounded several feet into theground. Trying to pull it up would be pointless.
She stared sightlessly at the canvas acrossfrom her.
This was quite the situation in which shefound herself. Her party had been captured, the others forced toserve the Trateri. The kicker was she had been the one to rescuethe army’s Warlord from death.
She was now separated from her group and hadfailed at creating a chance for them or herself to escape. The bestpart were that her maps were also still in the enemies’possession.
That brought her to the present. Chained to apost, waiting to meet this man she had saved, and no hope forrescue or escape.
Perhaps the guild elders were right when theysaid she suffered from a serious lack of judgment.
Shea hoped the others would be all right. Shehopedshewould be all right.
She stretched her legs out and tilted herhead back. And back.
She blinked. Then smiled.
Unlike the rest of the tent’s flexible,wooden supports, her post wasn’t bound to another at the top byhemp or groove. As thick as her waist, its base had been burieddeep in the ground, making it impossible for anyone with normalstrength to pull it free. This meant its top was free of anyobstructions. And since her chain was looped rather than boltedinto the post, there was a chance she could climb it. A very smallchance, but a chance.
She came to her feet, her eyes glued on thetop of the post. That spot meant freedom, and she was determined toreach it. If she could get the chain over the top, she could slipit free. Her hands would still be bound together, but she’d be ableto move. To run. She could escape and worry about freeing herselffrom the manacles later.
A low rumble of voices filtered into herspace, but so far no one had checked in on her. As long as theystayed in the front area, she might be able to pull this off.
With a rising sense of excitement, shewrapped her arms around the post and leapt up while trying to wrapher legs around it. Her legs banged into the canvas wall andrebounded off. Unable to support her weight with just her arms, sheslid back down to the ground.
“Son of a bitch,” she swore softly beforeturning her eyes towards the partition. And waited.
When the conversation behind the wallcontinued without pause, she figured nobody was coming to check inon her.
Her next two attempts met with similarresults. There wasn’t enough room to wrap her legs around it.
And time was running out. Each minute broughtthe confrontation with Fallon just a little bit closer.
The chain binding her hands didn’t helpeither. Vexed, she pulled at it, causing it to clank up the polejust a little bit. She frowned slightly as she did it again. Shegrasped the end and lifted it to chest level, holding the chaintaught so it remained there.
She cocked her head as she studied it. Thatmight work.
When she was younger and still in herapprenticeship, she had visited the forest of giants in thenorthwestern edge of the Lowlands. The trees there were so tallthat it was impossible to see the top if you were standing at itsbase. The crowns were concealed from view on very cloudy days. Thepeople there said giants must have tended them as saplings. Only agiant would have been able to enjoy the splendors in the trees’canopy.
For those living there today, they wrappedlong chains around the tree’s base and used the resulting tensionto walk up it. She hoped to do something similar.
She didn’t even get a foot off the ground onher first try.
She stood back and bit her lip. How was sheto do this? How exactly could a chain be used to climb?
Her eyebrows furrowing, she gathered theextra chain in her hands, placed one foot on the wood and leanedback creating a nice tension in the metal links. Slowly and beingcareful to not let the chain slacken, she lifted her other foot offthe floor and placed it on the post. Her breath exhaled in a whooshas she stayed in place. She picked up the bottom foot and moved itup, then she loosened the chains and quickly moved her arms up,taking the chain with it before leaning back once more. Anotherfoot gained.
Her destination was about eight feet off theground. Six feet off the ground and her arms shook with the strain,her abs screamed, and her legs trembled. It looked so much easierwhen the forest people did this.
Every inch she gained required a herculeanamount of effort and sapped her strength further. She was breathinghard by the time she was within a foot of the top. Sweat drippeddown her neck as she paused within inches of reaching herdestination.
