Dream of Me/Believe in Me

Your point is well and thoroughly made. I do not know Hawkforte anywhere near as well as I should. Truly, you must stay on here as long as you possibly can bear so that I may be properly instructed.”
    “Stay on? Twice times fool! I despise this place! I hate it with every fiber of my being. I, who should have had a great manor of my own, was cast instead upon the pity of my loathed half-brother and forced to play his servant. But no more! I will have my due at last. I will—”
    She broke off suddenly, as though aware she said too much. A sneer twisted her mouth. “Don't worry, fool, it will not take you so very long to die. Much as I would like to think of you suffering here, dying slowly of thirst and hunger, I cannot take the risk of that. Only a few hours and then the flames of eternal damnation will consume you.”
    She lingered a moment longer, staring at Krysta where she stood frozen in the small opening of the door. With a wild laugh, Daria departed. The light faded with her and Krysta was left alone in the utter dark.
    Her heart was pounding. She heard it with startling clarity just as she smelled the damp rot of the cell and felt the chill air sink through her gown to bore deep within herbody. Perhaps her mind, denied the stimulation of vision, was exaggerating all else. That was a rational thought and she held on to it with all her power, for beyond it, like a beast lying in wait for her, was madness.
    She shut her eyes and saw fragments of dancing light behind her lids. When she opened them again, the darkness outside was deeper than that which dwelled within her. Shaking, she reached out a hand and touched the closed door. Contact with the solid wood seemed to anchor her in some small way.
    Her rapid breathing and the drumbeat of her heart shattered the silence of centuries. Desperately, she tried not to think of how very far she was from light and hope, weighed down by unknowable tons of rock and dirt, as though buried alive. And so alone … so horribly, terrify-ingly alone.
    Yet not alone. The thought, little more than faint possibility, that had begun in her days before solidified suddenly into certainty. She was with child. Another being shared this cell with her and would share her fate, her tiny and yet so dearly loved child.
    Fierce protectiveness such as she had never known surged within her so powerfully as to push aside terror. Krysta took a deep, steadying breath.
Only a few hours.
    Hours in darkness and despair could render her too benumbed to resist. That must not happen. She needed to find something, anything, with which to defend herself… and her child.
    Slowly, methodically, Krysta began to search the chamber with her hands, going inch by inch from floor to ceiling.
    H AWK RETURNED FROM HUNTING IN EARLY EVE -ning. He and Dragon shared a sauna before parting in front of the great hall. While there yet was light,Dragon intended to inspect his ship and make sure all was in readiness for his departure the next day. Hawk had it in his mind to find Krysta and pleasantly while away the hour or so before supper.
    He didn't get very far in that direction before he was intercepted by Edvard with Aelfgyth close on his heels. “Your pardon, lord,” the steward said, “but if I might speak with you?”
    Coming up close behind her betrothed, Aelfgyth dug her elbow into his side as though to remind him he was not alone in seeking the Hawk's notice. “If
we
might speak with you,” Edvard corrected himself.
    Hawk was inclined to look on the young couple with favor. He nodded and prepared to listen with patience, although he ached to find his bride.
    “I have told Aelfgyth there is no reason for alarm,” Edvard said with a quick glance at the woman who stood at his side. “But she is concerned nonetheless and I thought you might reassure her—”
    “I last saw the Lady Krysta full three hours ago,” Aelfgyth said. “An hour since I went looking for her. The gown she has so generously given is finished and I wanted her to see it. But I cannot find her. I have searched the kitchens, her own quarters, the weaving shed, the stables, and everywhere else I could think of and still there is no sign of her.”
    Hawk did think this surprising but in no way saw it as cause for alarm. Hawkforte was a goodly sized manor and Krysta was becoming acquainted with all of it. She could be anywhere.
    “She may have gone down to the town,” he suggested, “or she could be any number of other places. It