Dream of Me/Believe in Me

OF a boat, her arms and legs still cruelly tied and a gag biting into her mouth, Krysta fought the twin demons of nausea and terror. Her prayer that they would be stopped leaving Winchester had not been answered. On foot, hidden by shadows, Udell and his men had evaded the guards. What an enemy army could not have done, they managed. Once beyond the city, they moved quickly to a boat waiting for them on the River Itchen. Rowing throughout the night, they put many miles between them and the royal fortress before sunrise.
    From time to time throughout the long hours of darkness, Udell called out, telling her what he would do to her. He described his plans in loving detail, dwelling on exactly how she would suffer and the measures that wouldbe taken to assure she did not die too quickly. His voice became a kind of torture itself, reminding her of how very far she was from hope or help.
    Yet through it all, as he ranted on and on, she refused to give in to her fear. When at last the boat turned in toward shore, she closed her eyes briefly, prayed deeply, and gathered her courage to face whatever was to come.
    Given the horrible threats Udell had been spewing, the reality was anticlimactic. He was in far too much of a hurry to pause long enough to do anything to her. Horses awaited them in the small clearing beside the river's edge, brought there apparently by prior arrangement. Several furtive men looked around anxiously, accepted a pouch heavy with coin, and vanished back into the forest. In the gray light of pre-dawn, the Mercians hurried to mount and be gone. Still bound, Krysta was about to be thrown up across a saddle when her frantic protests finally drew Udell's attention.
    “Jesu, you squeal loud enough to wake the dead! Perhaps I'll just smother you now and be done with it.”
    During the long hours in the boat, Krysta had ample time to think and she had come to her own conclusions about why Udell would have taken the risk of stealing her from beneath the very nose of the king's guard. She doubted very much that he had done it only for vengeance.
    Even so, she was daring greatly as she stared at Udell with frank disbelief. Refusing to be silent, she continued her protests until finally, in exasperated fury, he yanked off the gag.
    “By God, I swear I'll kill you right now!”
    “No, you won't.” Though her mouth was so sore that it hurt badly to talk, Krysta forced herself to continue. She straightened up as far as her knees, all she could manage with her ankles still tied, and said, “You need me as a hostage.”
    “I
need
to kill you.”
    “Maybe eventually but not yet. You know Hawk is coming after you.”
    Udell stared at her for a long moment, his mouth working. Finally, he said, “He's far from here and headed in the wrong direction. By the time he realizes, I'll be in Mercia and you'll be dead.”
    “You won't kill me just because you reach Mercia. You're not such a fool. You know perfectly well no border will stop the Hawk.”
    Udell laughed but uneasily. He stood with his hands on his hips, looking down at her with such utter hatred that it was all Krysta could do not to cringe. Instead, she kept her back straight and her head high, ignoring the burning pain in her limbs. Not for a moment did she allow her gaze to waver.
    “Then he will come,” Udell said and shrugged. “On my own lands, in my own stronghold, I can defeat him easily. With the Hawk dead, all of Mercia will rally to me. I will take Wessex and the throne.”
    So he had worked it all out in his disordered mind and so he truly believed it could happen, for the moment. Soon enough, Krysta suspected, he would begin to remember the many battles of the Hawk, the enemy armies destroyed, the mighty fortresses laid waste. Fear would eat at him and his actions would become unpredictable. But for some length of time yet, she could turn his insane confidence to her own ends.
    “Thus the sooner you reach Mercia, the better for you. Why am I still tied then? Surely you don't believe I can escape from you and a dozen armed men?”
    When Udell said nothing but only continued to stare at her, Krysta said, “My weight and yours on one horse will slow you down. Let me ride.”
    He hesitated and for a moment she was certain he would refuse. But speed was uppermost in his mind andhe could not deny the truth of what she said. Besides, how could one lone woman escape a band of armed men?
    Udell barked an order. Krysta's bonds were cut. She stifled