Curse of the Chelicerae 7

"Cover yerself," the man grunted. He tossed a cloth bundle at Sinaedh. She unfolded it to find a soft woolen shirt. The elbows were threadbare, but it gave her warmth in the chilly morning air. "Roll bett," he said after she'd pulled the shirt over her head. She folded the blankets together, then rolled them into a neat packet as he stamped around the camp. "Food." A leathery bit of dried fish was placed in her hand as he took the blankets. Her stomach growled loudly as she gnawed at the meat. She heard the man moving around, relieving himself, then busily saddling and preparing the horse. "Come," he growled. Hurriedly, Sinaedh rose, one hand out before her to protect herself from branches as she walked toward the man. The rising sun brought a fog of gray to her eyes, easing the unending black.

The creak of the saddle told her he'd mounted already. He gripped her outstretched hand and bodily lifted her to place her on the horse in front of him, his arm coming around her to grip the reins. A clap of his heels, and again they were moving.

The horse made his way at an easy gait through the forest. Birds sang cheerily, a counterpoint to Sinaedh's dark thoughts. Was this what she'd been released to? Grimly she tried to force herself not to relive the violent assault of the night past, though in that effort to not think about it, it was ever more present in her thoughts.

The road rose through a pine forest, the horse's hooves ringing on stone occasionally, more often thudding on a carpet of needles. Sun occasionally splashed over her face. Sinaedh rode easily, once again moving with the horse's stride. Soon, the road began to twist and turn as it climbed more steeply. A sharp turn, and the man pulled the horse to a walk. "No speak," the man growled into her ear. "Dat be best."

She heard the cries of children at play as they approached a village. Snuffling animals and crowing birds at a distance accompanied the low murmur of human voices from both sides. The man urged the horse forward, then pulled him to another close turn. The sound of the animal's hooves echoed, telling Sinaedh they walked between buildings. A cry in a female voice, an answer in a male, but she couldn't understand the words. The road widened, still climbing. Sinaedh could still hear the distant sounds of what she'd assumed was a village when the man pulled the horse to a halt. "New Thrall," he uttered and abruptly shoved her down from the horse.

She landed with a cry, sprawled on the ground. Almost immediately, strong fingers gripped her arm. "Come, Thrall," a grating female voice said. "Come, get to work."

Sinaedh frowned. The woman who had spoken spoke English. "Who?"

"Don't speak!" the woman hissed. "Come, get to work, Thrall."

She was led away from the horseman, and pushed to sit on the packed ground. The woman placed one hand on a scoop, the other on a grindstone. "Flour," she said. "Grind."

Sinaedh nodded. Blinking in the gray haze, she felt toward a dark shadow. There was a sack of grain. She scooped some onto the grindstone, then slowly began turning the shaft that pushed one rock over the other, grinding the grain into meal. She heard the woman who had brought her there standing closeby. "Good. Flour into the canister. You see?"

Sinaedh shook her head slowly. "I cannot see."

With a soft grunt, the woman took her hand, placing it on the container. "Here. Make sure it's fine, or Aki will punish all. That won't be good for ye, girl."

Sinaedh nodded and began again to grind the grain, muscles straining as she pushed the heavy stone of the quern.