The Archer's Hollow

Chapter 2 The Escape

Hunting dogs barked faraway in the night spurring Siri to quicken her pace. In all her nineteen years, her future had never terrified her. Until tonight. Adrenaline pulsed through her and urged her onward. She rushed through the moonlit forest frustrated by the restrictive shackles that chained her hands to her feet.

Her lungs burned, begging for more cool night air. Tree limbs whipped her face and pulled at her chestnut braid. She focused on going forward anticipating the howl signaling the dogs had begun their hunt. For her.

Her chest heaved in a frantic rhythm. Panic flared inside her. Bits of brittle crust tumbled to the ground when she pushed against a tree for balance. Like her life, everything she knew, crumbling to nothing in a matter of one tribal offer.

Keep going. Keep running! She chanted the words in her head to the rhythm of her moving feet. Village life had been difficult, but even that hadn't prepared her for tonight. The ache in her arms and legs demanded a break, but she ran on. If she stopped now, she risked losing everything, her dreams, her freedom, and most important, her ability to keep her vow to her mother.

The taste of blood rose in her throat and air pumped desperately in and out of her lungs yet she ran. Concentrating on avoiding the trees and scrub that surrounded her in the scant moonlight she kept moving and repeating. Keep going. Keep running.

Her mother had instructed her to go north. Polaris wove a sparkling trail atop the trees but she kept it in front of her running as straight as possible, leaving no time to think of forest creatures or when her absence would be noticed.

Blending into the hush of the night proved impossible. Twigs snapped under her sandals and chains binding her hands and feet clanged when they escaped her outer tunic and palla. Air rasped as it cycled through her lungs. The silent get-away she desired continued to mock her. Yet she kept on course, chanting to the beat of her running feet.

Stumbling through an opening in the trees she saw the deep red fire of sunrise burning on the horizon. Its jagged reflection glowed across the dark brook in front of her. She plunged her hands into the cold water and greedily drank handfuls from the river.

A well-traveled path, barely visible at this hour, crossed the river fifteen paces from where she stood. Running there would be easier, but so would finding her. If they found her... She shuddered thinking of becoming the latest jewel in the Malku'u chief's ribbon of wives. So, run she must. Besides, the trail went toward the sunrise and she needed to go north.

Fatigue crept like a forest cat into her limbs. Siri knew she must keep moving. Before long her guiding star would fade into the ever-brighter morning sky. Stopping was not possible, not when exhaustion promised to overtake her.

"Walk up the stream."

Startled, Siri looked to see who had spoken. Only the cattails in the water moved in the gentle morning current. Hairs on the nape of her neck rose.

"Walk up the stream . . . and hurry."

The familiar voice whispered on the wind. The pounding in her chest subsided in relief. Trying to recall where she had heard the voice, she paused and listened again. Her heart jumped. The faint braying of hounds on the trail of their prey rose up from the hill behind her. She must go. Now.

The soft calfskin sandals protecting her ankles from the bite of the shackles would have to come off. Daroth. She growled at the thought. Such a greedy guardian, selling her yesterday for an unfathomable sum. He had personally snapped the metal bands on her wrists and ankles and he would not rest until he found her.