The Regents : the Forgotten Chronicle [COMPLETED]

Chapter Twelve: Hope of Escape

When the moment had passed, Lydia wriggled out of Eliza's arms. Eliza sat with her hands on her knees. Oh, what to do, what to do, she fretted. They were guarded in the center of a camp full of Telmarine soldiers. How could they possibly escape? Eliza knew Lydia would look to her for some sort of guidance, but Eliza didn't feel like a leader right now.

Reese would know what to do, Eliza thought despondently. Then, her eyebrows rose. What if I thought like Reese? He could probably see a way out of here! Okay, what do I see? Her eyes roamed the campsite, observing the personal guard, the Telmarines loitering outside their tents, the fire pits- The fire pits! They're surrounded by stones to keep the fire from spreading! And Reese told us that wet stones - .

Eliza twisted her body toward Lydia. Using her bound hands, she spread her cloak to the right, covering the space between them. She motioned for Lydia to scoot closer. When she did, Eliza tugged Lydia's cloak on top of her own, completing the cloth wall.

Balancing awkwardly on her hip, Eliza traced her finger in the dirt to create the word, "Escape."

Lydia raised a skeptical eyebrow and nodded at her bound hands.

Eliza erased the word, then wrote, "Reese's fire trick. Wet rocks." She nodded over her shoulder at the fire pits. Lydia glanced to the pits before glancing to their guards. One watched them with suspicion. Eliza pushed aside her cloak while sliding her knees over the writing, exposing the ground between her and Lydia. The dissatisfied guard grunted and turned his back. 

Eliza and Lydia quickly reformed the cloth wall. "How?" Lydia wrote. 

"Men need water," Eliza replied. "Camp near river." When Lydia raised her hands as if to say, "So?", Eliza erased the message and wrote, "We bring water here and dump on rocks." 

Lydia erased the words. "Brennan know land. He find us."

"Meet him halfway," Eliza retorted. 

Lydia grimaced uncertainly. I doubt this will work, she thought to herself, but do we have a choice?  "Fine," she conceded. Eliza smiled awkwardly around her gag. "After explosion?" Lydia asked.

Eliza studied the clearing again before writing, "Take a horse."

Lydia sharply wiped away "Take" and replaced it with "Steal." 

Eliza sighed, her pained expression revealing her confliction. "It come back when released, right?"

"Dunno."

"Please. You can ride away!"

"Not without you!"

"Yes! You're better rider. Get help."

"No."

"Lydia."

Lydia circled the word "No."

"Stop it."

Lydia circled "No" again. Eliza brushed it away. 

"Only hope," she wrote.

"Not only," Lydia corrected her. "Aslan."

Eliza gazed sadly at the last word, wanting to believe in the name. Then, she scanned the camp. In the stories, Aslan helped both directly and indirectly, but presently, no help was in sight. "Aslan," she wrote in the dirt, "will help us escape." They held each other's gazes, daring the other to back down. Finally, Lydia sighed and lowered her eyes. She nodded begrugingly. 

They obliterated their conversation and faced their guards. Eliza patted the calf of one of the guards, receiving his annoyed glare. She whined and stroked her throat. When his face remained unchanged, she cupped her hands and mimed drinking. The Telmarine twisted his mouth thoughtfully and asked his bearded companion something in Telmarine, nodding at the girls. The bearded guard regarded the captives before shrugging. The men heaved the girls to their feet, glancing about furtively, and roughly escorted them between the tents past several horses tied to a horizontal post.