“Daisy knows the way home,” he said, slapping the donkey’s rump.
With a little jolt, we were off.
At first I was filled with the darkest terror that Daisy would drive me off a crag, or into a precipice, but she seemed to know exactly where to go.
The heavy fog worked for me now, hiding my direction from Gideon, although I could hear him behind me, and then to the right of me, angrily calling my name.
I merely held the reins loosely and urged my Daisy onward.
Miraculously, after half an hour of steady riding, I began to see the farthest farms and fields of St. Mary’s.
It was getting dark now, and the fog at last began to thin, to let me look between the gray tendrils to see my last obstacle: the steep hill up to the monastery. I did not dare take my little cart up this steep path. When Gideon and I had visited, we had gone the long way around, but I did not have time for that.
Reluctantly, I pulled Daisy to a halt and got off carefully, kissing her hairy ear with grateful praise. “Good girl. Now head to your warm home, for you have earned your rest tonight!”
And then I was alone, with not another soul in sight. At this time of the evening, and in this kind of weather, most St. Mary’s villagers would be inside next to a fire.
Eagerly, I started to scramble up the incline as I fixed my eyes on the spire of St. Mary's.
"Save me," I breathed, but who was I asking? I didn’t know.
Just that I must—move! Or my husband would catch me.
Faster! Faster!I scrambled up to the gardens in front of the church, forcing my wet boots through the slushy slick snow.
I wanted to call out, beg for help, but I did not have the breath to.
Twilight was falling across the church lawns, covering the buildings in gray, dark shadow.
Gideon was coming up hard behind me, the reverberations of the horse's hooves pounding through my body, echoing in my skull.
I felt weak and exhausted and wrung out, but I forced myself on, the cruel wind whipping at my torn garments.
But as I ran I saw something that filled me with leaden horror.
The gate to the church grounds was locked! It was made of heavy iron, the bars thick, and the gap between them narrow. There was no way I could get in—no way to even squeeze between the bars.
All my exertions would be for naught! I felt bleak despair grip me.
"Help!" I gasped out, my voice reedy and thin, barely noticeable, winter chill carrying the sound away on the stiff uncaring breeze.
My soul seemed to leave my body as Gideon crested the summit behind me. I heard him hit the monastery gardens, his horse crushing the delicate pathways as he gave chase.
His triumph felt dark and rancid on my tongue. He would be able to herd me against the gate and trap me there, force me to come back to Grayspires Manor with him.
Tears flowed down my cheeks, burning me with a chill icy heat.
So close and still so far!To fail with safety so close was a bitter defeat and I staggered under it, almost falling down in the weight of my despair.
The thud of the hooves shook the ground, made my swollen breasts ache.
The earth seemed to pull with the seduction of giving up and at last resting, beg me to lie down in defeat.
No! I would fight to the last.
And just then I saw a shadow move behind the gates of the church.
A slim shadow, nothing more. But then it moved closer.
