She opened her eyes to darkness, as black as any cloudy, moonless night. For a moment she didn't know why and she went to reach up for her eyes – only to find that she couldn't. Panic set in as she realized her hands were bound and her sight – inky despite the fact that they were open – were covered. 'Sallastin,' she thought to herself as her mind came back to full awareness, and she remembered the events of the night before.
After she'd left the safety of Zandrianna's house, for fear of what he would do to Merry and the baby, they had ridden hard for several hours. She'd barely been able to stand on her own legs when they finally stopped, using the steed's saddle to remain upright as she looked around for any way to escape – anywhere to run. Realizing what she was up to, the servant had brusquely grabbed at her arm and led her to a bush where she was allowed a brief time to take care of her needs before dragging her back to the campsite the other servant had set up for Sallastin for the night.
Having no other option for the moment, Immalaine had sat down where she was directed and stared numbly into the fire, the men talking around her barely a buzzing in her ears. Had she only known she would not have sent Rastellion away. She should have told him, should have … should have. It echoed in her head like the beat of a drum, loud and insistent. So many things she should have done. So much she should have said. Things, she thought, that she'd never get a chance to now.
And Rastellion … The image of his face, the shock and confusion on it, the pain in his eyes, was seared in her mind. A tear escaped her eye, trailing down her cheek, but she paid it no mind. 'Oh Rastellion,' she thought to herself, 'I wish I could tell you now. I want to …' She ached to be back in Bree, to be near him. More than anything she wanted to hug him and make the past few days go away.
She barely noticed when a plate of food was shoved into her hands, paid no mind to what it was as she began eating. So lost was she in her own thoughts that she tasted nothing as she brought the fork to her mouth and ate. Nor did she notice when she was done, and the plate whisked away from her by one of his servants.
Once again, she was led to the bushes to tend herself, before being returned to the campsite where she was pushed into one of the tents and told to sleep. Laying down, she listened for some time; still awake long after Sallastin and the servants had laid down for the night.
Turning in an attempt to gather her bearings she cried out in pain.
She had tried to escape, waited until they were snoring and tried to sneak out of her tent. She hadn't any idea where they were, nor which direction she would go, only that she had to get away from him. Mustering as much stealth as she could manage, she had slipped from the tent onto the cool ground, leaving her shoes behind from fear that they would make too much noise.
She'd crept her way across the campsite, barely allowing herself to even breathe, as she felt her way in the moonlit darkness. 'Just a little more …' she thought to herself, 'a little further and I can …'
The thought was cut off as a steely arm grabbed her around the middle and a firm hand was placed over her mouth to muffle her shocked scream. “Little girl,” she heard Sallastin say, his silken voice laced with amusement, “you disappoint me. It seems you've forgotten all the lessons I taught you, what happens when you disobey me.” Immalaine found herself passed to one of the servants, the man gripping her arms painfully to her sides as she watched in terror as Sallastin pulled a small, slender blade from his trousers. 'No!' her mind screamed, struggling against the man that held her to no avail.
“You will remember them, little girl.”
He slid the razor thin blade along her shoulder, around the back of her neck, as she trembled with fear. Knowing what would come next, she felt the blade press against the back of her neck, the tip sliding beneath the surface of her skin before hitting the nerves beneath it. She screamed …
And fortunately passed out ...
