Dancing on the Wind

Interlude

After he left, she was so drained that she could scarcely move. She fell into a mercifully dreamless sleep, then awoke with a jerk. How much time had gone by? With so little of that left to her, she shouldn't waste any. After achieving his satisfaction, he had told her with cruel glee precisely what her fate would be. The next time he came, it would be for her life.

Yet what could she do except pace frantically about her plush prison? She had looked for weapons before, but her captor had taken care not to furnish the rooms with anything that might be dangerous. The heavy furniture was bolted to the floor; her cutlery was made of soft, easily bent tin; and the plates and cup were of pewter, which could not be broken into sharp pieces.

She could use the thong of one of the heavier whips to try to strangle her adversary, but she doubted that she had the strength to overpower a grown man. Even if she did, she would be unable to get past the guard who waited outside. She would try, of course, for she would not go tamely to her death, but she had no illusions about her chances of success.

Her gaze fell on the nasty little whipping toy. With sudden rage, she raised it above her head and smashed it to the floor. Then she crushed the figures beneath her booted feet. If only she could do the same with her captor…

A thought occurred to her, and she knelt to study the pieces. A number of metal gears had been ex posed. She lifted the largest and tested the sharp-toothed edge. It was hardened steel. Used carefully, it should be able to rasp through wood.

She surveyed her three rooms thoughtfully. Ah, the bedside table. Given enough time, she could cut through one of the legs. When it was loose, she should have enough leverage to wrench it free of the bolt that held it to the floor. If not, well, she would cut the leg off a couple of inches above the floor.

She sat cross-legged by the table and grimly went to work. When she was done, she would have a club heavy enough to bash a man's skull in. That wouldn't be enough to free her, but if she was going to die, she would damned well take her captor with her.