Captured by the Dark Lord by Jaide Fox

ale house
in which she was staying.  Her ears were literally pricked up as she attempted
to sift through the noises of the other inhabitants, but she could hear
nothing. 
                Something must
have caused her to awaken though....
                Realizing that
she hadn't taken in a breath of air for the last few moments, she gulped and
attempted to once more, calm her breathing.  Slowly, she inhaled and exhaled
then sank back down on to the cot beneath her.  She thought of the feather bed
that had once sucked her into its comfort and the pleasant sleeping chamber
that had been hers since birth and longed for it with an ache that had tears
stinging against the sensitive flesh of her eyelids. 
                Perhaps it wasn't
the superficial comforts of home she missed, but the security of her parents'
love and care, which had forever cushioned her from the harsher aspects of
life. 
                Isabeau sighed as
she realized that perhaps that cushion had caused the last four years alone to
be even more difficult, but still, she could not and would never regret the
secure upbringing she'd been fortunate to have. 
                Wriggling against
the cot that was a makeshift bed for the night, she grimaced as the wooden
spine seemed to scrape each nodule of bone that sat along the slender expanse
of her back.  In comparison to the down mattress she had once slept upon, it
was akin to torture, but after four solid nights of sleeping on the loamy
ground of varying woods throughout the realm, it was a welcome change.  It was
no wonder she was so fatigued, when night after night amongst the scurrying
insects and rodents kept her from the deep slumber she needed after covering so
much distance throughout the day!
                Although Isabeau
was once more lying against the cot, she hadn't relaxed.  Her senses were such
that very little disturbed her, so when something did, when it actually woke
her up from a deep slumber, she knew to trust her instincts.  Over the last
years alone, they had been her sole defense and she had come to rely upon
them.  Whilst at this moment in time, she could hear no particular reason to be
agitated, her senses and instincts rarely lied. 
                Something was out
there. 
                Waiting silently
for her. 
                Isabeau lifted a
tired arm and scrubbed her fiery red hair back from her forehead.  Using her
thumb and index finger, she rubbed her eyes and tried to evaluate what her next
move should be. 
                Was it safer to
remain here until daylight? 
                Or sneak out now
and attempt to dissolve into the woods and forests that surrounded this quiet
village? 
                Biting her lip,
she realized that she was tempted to stay here and hide away for a few hours
longer, but as the skin at the back of her nape persistently tingled, Isabeau
knew that she had to move.  A part of her longed for the blessed relief of
sleep, but that tenacious tingling had her on edge and as far from the arms of
Morpheus as was physically possible.
                Suffering from a
severe lack of sleep as she was, Isabeau's movements were slow and dulled and
her reactions were not exactly swift as she climbed from the cot and stood
beside it.  Her shining violet eyes were dazed with somnolence.
                Rising to her
feet, she stifled a groan as her bones settled and she swept her hands along
the length of her skirt to free it from the dust and lint that it had collected
during her slumber.  Isabeau gathered her few possessions, a square swatch of
material which acted as a carrying bag when gathered together and currently
contained a stale hunk of bread and a block of cheese. 
                She had soon
learned that any possessions she wished to keep had to stay on her person.  The
six guineas she had were sewn