storm winds will follow

Chapter five - unsteady progress

Gwendolyn would have been lying, had she claimed that her sleep was particularly restful. She wasn't tired enough to simply slumber through the bumps in the road, of which there were many, and her dreams were equally uneasy. Plagued, she sat up on the fur and rubbed her eyes. It would be a long and unpleasant journey, she had to sigh just thinking about it.

A sliver of light shone into the wagon through the window, and Gwen tried to stand, and catch a glimpse of the world beyond her prison. By the sun's stance it was noon, a fact that was further confirmed by her rumbling stomach. The hounds would surely feed her, right?

Sinking back down onto her fur, she listened to see what information she could glean. Gwendolyn could hear conversation from the front of the wagon. She strained her ears and attempted to softly call out to her magic, hoping to enhance her senses like she had done countless times before, but she couldn't. It was there, she noted, but out of reach, like it had been locked out of her cage. Interesting.

The consideration that such a thing as magic proof spaces existed had never crossed her mind before, but knowing what she knew now, it definitely made sense for the hounds to utilise them. She was a fairly harmless prisoner as it were, but others might not be so docile... or so poorly trained.

Knuckles rapped on the wall to the driver's bench in the front and Ulfric's voice came through, muffled by the wooden barrier.
"We know you're awake in there. We'll reach the first checkpoint this evening if we continue at this pace and you'll get a warm meal there. Want some dried meat and ale? I'll bring you some during noon break."

That sounded promising. Gwendolyn thought she could hear Bertold scold Ulfric quietly, something along the lines of "don't be too at ease", but she didn't care. By the minute the hounds figured out she had planned to slip their noose, she would already be long gone.

"Yeah, thanks!"
She shouted back, hoping they had heard her.

She received the promised dried meat and ale, and was allowed to go relieve herself in the bushes, under the watchful blue eyes of Freki, of course. After sitting so long it was nice to stretch her legs and warm her limbs at a fire.
"If you keep being so well behaved we'll all die of boredom"
Afkarr grumbled, as he poked around the campfire with his axe.
"I thought you'd be more challenging."

This earned him a light smack from Ulfric.
"Our other prisoner will be plenty challenging, now stop talking such nonsense before she changes her mind."

Gwendolyn listened a little more closely when the other prisoner was mentioned.
"Eh, according to the messages the caravan sent he's been just as docile."
So it was a man... or a boy? She filed away the information while focusing on her dried meat, none of the men had noticed she was listening, or perhaps they had, and simply did not care to send her away.
"Your security is false, Afkarr, and you are a fool if you seriously think the witch king's eldest isn't plotting seven simultaneous escape routes as we warm our lame asses at the campfire."

Now that was news. Gwen could not remember having ever heard of a witch king, nor his son, and the topic piqued her interest. She bit back her questions for the moment and continued her meal.
"Enough of this, now."

That ended the conversation prematurely, and Gwendolyn wanted to curse. She would have to keep an ear out about the topic, in case it came up again.
"Alright, back in the wagon, we're continuing on."
Ulfric instructed, and Gwen jumped to her feet. She had an idea.

She hurried back to the wagon and climbed inside with what was left of her dried meat tucked in her pocket, Freki at her heels. She climbed in. Like she had expected, Ulfric was the one who had the key to her wheeled prison. She sat on the fur rug, legs crossed, just far enough from the door to complete her plan.
"You forgot to tie my hands"