Captured

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            The motion was as natural to me as breathing, the fluid, violent dance of war. My sword felt warm in my grip as I faced my enemies. They were a dark shadow against our moonlit snow, a crowd of disorganized rabble, little better than barbarians in their ugly brown furs and tromping clumsy boots. I watched them cradle their flames to keep warm and knew with satisfaction that I would not be returning home until I watched their blood fall scarlet on the snow. The glaring white surface of the ground made me blink, and my vision grew blurry for a moment, I squinted, and a sharp pain made me shut my eyes and open them again, the sound of the battlefield faded, replaced by angry voices.

            "Why did you do that? I told you I could handle her."
            "The queen gave orders..."

            "She would have been receptive to me..."

            "Oh come now, you think you can just charm the girl? She wouldn't just leave her house and come with you because you're dreamy."

            "Do not mock me, Caleb."

            I surfaced out of the dream. My body was stiff, and I was lying on something hard. I tried to open my eyes and realized why everything seemed so dark. There was something over my eyes, a blindfold. In horror, I tried to rip the blindfold off and discovered why I was so sore. My hands were tied behind my back, and I was obviously lying on them. Tentatively I tried to move my legs and found myself tied at the ankles as well.  Jolts of panic ran through me, making me nauseous and weak.  Visions of the terrible things I'd heard on the news ran through my head like a horrible slide show.

            "Well, you didn't need to truss her up like that," the first voice said crossly. "She's a slip of a girl. Are you afraid she'll be too much to handle? You've locked the van door from the outside."

            Even in my current predicament my mind repeated the phrase "slip of a girl".  My six foot status had never allowed anyone to call me that before. I remembered the man standing on my lawn, how he'd been taller than me.

            "I had my orders," the second voice, the one called Caleb said. "You know how much is riding on this. I'm not going to go and make her mad, am I?"

            "You let me deal with the girl when we get to the palace. I won't have you man-handling her like that again," the first voice grumbled.

            The palace? What the hell. Was this some kind of joke? I squirmed around on the hard surface, trying to get whatever I was laying on to stop digging into my back. Obviously we were going to be driving for some time, since I was pretty sure there were no palaces in Grande Prairie. Where were we going, Europe? How would someone hide out in a palace? Were they taking me to another country? I had another huge jolt of panic....was I being sold into slavery? I went still and tried my best not to hyperventilate, feeling every bump and rut in the road.

            We drove for what seemed like ages, but it could have been minutes. My back was stiff, and my cheeks felt tight where tears had dried. I clenched my eyes shut and tried to fade out again. Dreaming about hacking at people in battle was preferable to lying here helplessly, wondering if I was going to be sold to some playboy sultan or something.

            One of the men suddenly spoke up, "What's that?"

            I felt the van slow, neither man spoke for a moment, and then the other voice said,

            "Road block?"

            "Oh that's just great," someone, Caleb I think, growled. "We've got a girl tied up in the back, officer. Hope that's not a problem."

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