“Perhaps I should have let Kelan kill you,” she muttered. “Then there’d be one less person to feed.”
“You haven’t fed me today,” he reminded her. “And from the look of it, you haven’t eaten, either.”
And at last, her fury got the best of her. Tears of frustration streamed down her face. “I haven’t eaten for nearly a fortnight, save a few greens and a soup that’s mostly water. I can’t remember the last time I had meat, and I’m so hungry, I canhardly walk anywhere without getting tired.” She tore down the woolen cloth from where it covered the hole in the wall.
“Thenyouhad to come and destroy the only home I have.” She wrapped the brat around her head and shoulders, holding on to herself as if she could hold back the emotions. “I don’t know what to do any more. It’s frustrating to have nothing to show for my efforts.”
He said nothing at first, for this woman wasn’t his responsibility. She’d taken him prisoner, and there was no reason to offer his advice.
But when he saw her shadowed face, he could think only of his wife. Was Elena hungry, as well? Was anyone watching over her? Or had they turned their backs on her?
If Caragh died, none of the others would free him. She was his only hope of escaping. And the only way to do that was to gain her trust.
“Set me free, and I’ll help you get food,” he said at last. “Then you can guide me to find my wife and kinsmen.”
She shook her head slowly, a rueful smile on her face. “You’d only abandon me here, as soon as I let you go.”
Of course she would believe that. But he wasn’t about to spend any longer, waiting until her brothers arrived. He would keep trying to free himself, no matter what he had to do.
Caragh took a branch from her supply of kindling and made it into a torch, lighting it in the fire. “I suppose I could try to look for crab for a little while. Wait here, and I’ll return within the hour.”
As if he had a choice.
He leaned back against the post, determined to do anything necessary to make his escape.
Styr tested the chains behind his back, lifting the manacles as far up as he could, to his shoulders. He leaned against them with his full body weight, facing the ground. Then he leaned hard, placing his feet on the rough post until his body was nearly parallel with the ground. Though his wrists and shoulders burned from the effort, he walked backwards up the post, lifting the chains with every step. After falling back down several times, he realized he had to keep the chains taut. Inch by inch, he guided himself up, gritting his teeth against the ache. It was the thought of freedom that pushed him past the edge of pain, while he twisted the chains and continued higher.
The support beam reached up to the ceiling. Slowly, he pulled himself up, until his shoulders touched the thatch. Sweat beaded against his forehead as he fought to keep his balance. If he could just lift his arms a little higher, he could raise the chains over the top of the post. It was attached to the roof, but the other beam was thinner, perhaps the width of his wrist.
Every muscle in his body cried out with agony, but he pushed past the pain. He would endure this for Elena’s sake.
His shoulder nearly dislocated when he shoved the chain over the top of the beam. He hung, suspended, from the smaller piece of wood, and his body weight strained against the beam.
Come on, he pleaded.Break.
He gulped for air, swinging against the wood while he feared it was his wrists that would break. In his mind, he pictured the face of Elena and her haunted sadness.
She needs you.
With a fierce effort, at last the smaller beam cracked and he fell to the ground against his knees.
He couldn’t move, and for a long moment, he rested his cheek against the earthen floor. His wrists were slick with blood, and they throbbed with pain.
But he’d done it. He was free to move, free to leave this place. Though his hands were still bound in chains, no longer was he confined to Caragh’s hut.
Styr rose up to his knees, letting out a shuddering breath. It was better to wait until morning to go after Elena. This land was unknown to him, and he needed to plan his journey.
That meant gathering supplies and food—if there were any to be had. He sobered, for he’d traveled enough to know that he couldn’t go off blindly trying to track down Elena and Ragnar. Since they’d gone by boat, they could be anywhere along the coast.
He needed a ship of his own to travel the same path. And he needed to break free of these chains.
Slowly, he stood, eager to escape the confines of this place. He struggled to open the door, but when he stepped outside, he breathed in the scent of freedom. All was quiet, the night cloaking the sky with darkened clouds. In the distance, he spied the flare of a single torch.
Caragh.
He gripped the chains to hold his silence as he tiptoed into the night. Soundlessly, he made his way toward the beach where he saw her staring intently at the sand. Alone, with no one to help her.
In her face, he saw the dogged determination to survive. It was breaking her down, but she kept searching. He’d known men who were quicker to give up than her.
