He pushed up to his hands and knees, but as he worked to gain his feet, another spasm struck, and he stumbled down to his knees again. He tried to crawl forward, but the leather binding his ankles kept him from moving more than a handbreadth. They’d left his hands unbound after Audrey cut him free, but no one had loosed his feet.
His stomach revolted, and the meat pie from his midday meal spewed up his throat and out his mouth.
He barely heard the guard’s yelp through the rushing in his ears. Wave after wave of regurgitated food forced its way out of him. Maybe now his belly would finally settle.
The guard was murmuring something in French as Evan finally sank back to sit on the fur. “Sorry,” he mumbled. The word graveled out through his raw throat. He’d made a mess of the place. Would they make him clean it?
Probably not, for they didn’t seem inclined to let him leave the fur, except to occasionally shuffle to the patch of dirt in the corner. Even the dogs must be given more freedom than this. The night guard had replaced that pile of dirt a couple times now, and Evan hated watching the man clean up after him. If only he could be free to take care of things like that himself, he could lighten the work for them all.
But just now, his limbs barely had the strength to hold him in a sitting position. He sank down to lay on the hide as the guard stepped around the mess to reach the wooden door.
The man bellowed down the hallway, and the way his voice echoed off the walls, the corridor must be long and made of stone the entire way. How deep into the mountain were they?
The guard stood still, silence hanging in the air as he waited for a response. The man murmured more things under his breath, and Evan didn’t even try to translate. With the stench rising in the room, the words were probably just as foul.
The man sent him a glare, then stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him. The clank of what must be a metal or stone bar blocking the door shut was the only sound. Then quiet.
Evan’s pulse leapt. This was his chance. The first time he’d been left alone since the moment he’d been struck with Brielle’s arrow.
He pushed himself up to sitting and eyed the door. He’d studied every inch of the walls, floor, and ceiling these past two days, and that partition was the only way out. The hinge must be on the outside, so if that truly was a metal bar he’d heard slipping into place, his only option would be to break the wood.
Did he have time? He strained for the sound of footsteps, but he’d not even heard the guard walk away. Was the man outside, even now, listening? Testing Evan? The fellow had looked rattled. Surely he’d gone for help.
But even if Evan made his way into the hall, he had no idea how he would get out of this compound of caves. The guardswould know every dark corner to find him. He couldn’t risk losing their trust after he was working so hard to gain it.
And he was so weak. He perhaps could muster the strength to sneak out, but if forced into a match of fists with one of these brawny men, he wasn’t sure he could win. He’d better wait for a more opportune chance.
He’d likely only have one shot at escape.
Voices outside the door made his heart skip a beat, and he smoothed his face into a bland expression. That same clang sounded again, then the partition opened. Brielle was the first to enter, followed by Audrey, then the other guard whose name he still didn’t know.
Brielle paused inside the doorway and scanned the mess. Something about her seemed different ... softer. As her head turned, the light from a torch glimmered off the dark of her hair, revealing the kind of muss that came from leaning back against something—like a bed. Had they awakened her? How late was it, anyway? He’d been trying to keep track of time by the meals they served and the changing of their guard, and he was fairly certain this was late afternoon.
Brielle was speaking to Audrey in a low voice, her melodious French much more pleasing to the ear than what the guard had bellowed down the hall.
Audrey nodded and spoke back to her, pointing at the far edges of the room. Then Audrey turned her kind eyes on Evan and sympathy warmed them even more than usual. “You’re ill? Has my food done this to you?”
As much as he hated to dim the kindness in her gaze, he had to speak the truth. “I don’t know.”
Brielle turned to the guard. “Go with Audrey and bring whatever she needs. I’ll begin my watch.” She’d switchedback to English. Was it her goal to keep him on his toes with the language shifts? Or maybe she meant to always speak English and forgot at times. That seemed highly unlikely. As far as he could tell, this woman never did anything without a purpose. At first, he’d assumed the things they said in the other languages were intended to be kept from him.
Now he didn’t know what to think. His head ached from the force of the convulsions. His muscles had regained some of their strength, but his belly roiled again. He had a feeling that might not be the only time he cast up his accounts.
As Audrey turned to go with the man, Evan raised a hand to catch her attention. “It might be good to bring a bucket or bowl or something.” She was looking at him with her head cocked, and heat flooded his ears. “Just in case.”
Understanding shifted her expression, and she nodded. “Oui.”
When the two closed the door behind them, Brielle made her way to the guard’s place against the wall, then turned to survey the mess from the new angle. Her brow furrowed, a look he didn’t often see on her stoic features. “You’re feeling better?” She swung her focus to him.
The part of him where his ego resided wanted to say yes. Of course, he was better. He was strong and strapping and every bit the capable man he’d been before she shot him in the gut. He hated to appear a weakling in front of anyone, especially this tough woman. But if he used bravado here, he had a feeling his body would prove him a liar. Perhaps it would be best to give them a little warning so they could prepare.
And if this sickness was a result of their poison, what did it matter if they knew their potion was working?
He pressed a hand to his stomach and scrunched his nose. “A little better than before.” Maybe that wasn’t completely honest. She would read between the lines and plan for the worst.
For a long moment, she studied him.
At first, he didn’t respond. Didn’t meet her gaze. But the longer she stood immobile, her focus penetrating, the more her stare raised his hackles. He finally turned to meet her look.
