I was shoving salted bacon into my sack when I noticed Merrick huddled in a corner, ripping enormous bites out of a leg of roasted peacock. I could even hear his teeth cracking the bones.
“Merrick,” I said. “We eat later!”
He shook his head. “Too hungry,” he said, his mouth so full he could barely speak.
Otto, laughing, held a piece of pale white bread close to my lips. “We need strength for the stealing, love! Open up.”
My mouth watered. I couldn’t resist. Against my better judgment, I let him feed it to me. I closed my eyes at the soft, sweet wonder of it. I’d never had anything so fine. It tasted like hope. Like life itself.
“The baron would surely be pleased to see you enjoying his bread so much,” Otto said. “Too bad he’s asleep in his fine bed, ignorant of the peasants helping themselves to his leftovers!”
“I’ll wager he’s a drunk, like his father,” said Maraulf.
“I’ll wager he’s a spindly weakling, with a prick no bigger than this,” said Merrick, holding a limp, cooked parsnip between his legs.
Vazi’s shoulders shook with laughter, and Otto covered his mouth to stifle a guffaw.
“Enough talking! More stealing!” I said, now grabbing at whatever I could reach. Bread, cheese, sausages all got swept into my sack, and the heavier the sack got, the better I felt. My plan was working. We wouldn’t have to starve.
The others were quiet now, swiftly taking all that they could. I tucked eggs into the bodice of my dress and lowered a block of salt into my bag.
My name is Hannah Dory, and I have saved us.
When my bag was full to bursting and I had to bend under its weight, I called to the rest of them softly. “All right, we’ve been here long enough.”
Maraulf nodded, slinging his sack over his shoulder with a grunt. I looked around for Mary—she was in the corner, pulling little wheels of cheese from a basket. “Mary,” I said. “We need to go!”
She turned around, her face alight with relief. “Yes, Hannah, let’s,” she whispered. “I’m scared.”
“We’ll be safe outside in a matter of minutes,” I assured her.
Then Vazi, reaching for a flagon of wine, knocked a poker into a kettle.
It rang like a bell.
For a moment, we froze where we stood. From across the room, Mary’s frightened eyes met mine. Her sack dropped from her trembling hands with a thud. I started inching toward the stairs, motioning for her to follow. Leave it, I silently begged. Come with me. Now!
The castle was quiet, and for a moment I allowed myself to hope that no guards had heard.
Into the tunnel, and then we’ll be safe!
I was at the top of the stairs when the night exploded around us—shouts, footsteps, and the hiss of knives drawn from their sheaths.
“Run!” I shouted.