Her nose was filled with the smell of horse. Her head pounded. She’d been flung over the front of Grey’s saddle and all her blood seemed to be pooling in the vicinity of her skull. She thrashed experimentally. Her limbs were weak. Her wrists and ankles were bound, and a gag was stuffed between her teeth, leaving her mouth horribly dry. Pale light lit the ground beneath her. Almost morning. She thrashed again. “Hey, watch it, she’s going to fall,” a familiar voice said. Moses. She froze. “Didn’t think she’d wake up so soon,” Grey said. She heard his footsteps, then he was hauling her off the horse. The horse sidled and snorted. She struggled in Grey’s grasp, but he threw her over his shoulder. Her face pressed against his back. “Get that open, then.” A creak of hinges sounded, then Grey was hauling her inside a small stone building. He tossed her down with all the care he’d give a sack of potatoes, and her head struck the far wall.
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