Shara sighed and stared up at the ceiling. When they’d arrived at the grim two-story house hours ago her petite captor had led her upstairs and locked her in a bedroom. Soon after that an attractive young woman about her age had entered carrying a bucket of steaming water and a clean lavender dress. It had been so long since Shara had washed that even the thought of a sponge bath appealed to her.
She’d tossed her filthy clothes in a pile and bathed while the silent young woman stood with her back turned. Once she’d dried off she dropped the dress over her head. The silk felt wonderfully soft against her skin after the rough homespun cotton shift Robert had given her. The servant left then with the bucket and her dirty clothes.
Heaven only knew how long ago that was and she hadn’t seen anyone since. Shara hopped off the bed and walked around the room again. There was no window, so she had no idea what time of day or night it was or where in the city she might be.
She was about to lie down and try to sleep when someone knocked on the door. It opened a moment later and her tiny captor entered.
He sketched a bow. “Princess, we’ve contacted your uncle. It seems your father has gone south for a visit.”
She took a deep breath. Father. Though she’d never really admitted it to herself she’d feared he hadn’t survived the confrontation with the sorcerer. “My father was well?”
“Yes, I believe so. Your uncle’s wizard said nothing that would make me think otherwise, why?”
Before she could answer someone screamed downstairs. “Stay here, Princess.” The little man pushed the door shut and Shara heard a click as he relocked it.
“Where do you think I’m going to go?” she asked the empty room.
She started pacing. Three trips across the room and someone else screamed. She stopped and moved closer to the door so she could hear.
From the hall beyond came the sound of steel on steel. The sounds grew louder as the battle moved closer to her room. Gradually the battle came to an end.
Moments after the last thump of sword striking flesh a crash sounded. She took three steps away from the door. The decision proved wise when an axe-head burst through her door right where her head had been a second before.
In seconds the door was reduced to kindling.
A figure in a gray cloak entered, brushing aside the few splinters of wood as he passed through the opening. A gold wolf’s head medallion hung around the intruder’s neck.
A hunter. Shara remembered Robert mentioning the bounty hunter group back in Reaper’s Crossing.
“Princess Shara, I presume,” the hunter said, his voice deep and commanding.
“Yes.” Shara stood straight with her chin raised like her father had often told her she should.
“You have been captured by the Hunters’ Guild. The bounty specifies no harm be done to you. I would prefer to allow you to walk out of here but I will carry you bound and gagged if I must.”
Shara sniffed in disgust. “I will walk.”
“As you wish.” The hunter gestured her through the door. “This way.”
Outside her ruined door stood three more gray-robed men with silver wolf’s head medallions. One let her pass and the other two preceded her down the steps. They led her to a rear entrance.
Outside dawn was just coloring the horizon. They crossed the street and went down a dark alley.
Kidnapped again. This really wasn’t her night.