rooted in her belly to manifest, just for a minute.
She leaned against the wall and rubbed her temples before folding her arms around her chest and fighting the rising gorge of fear. She couldn’t allow herself this kind of weakness.
Straightening, she shuffled along the wall to the large mirror, where she examined herself carefully. Despite her complexion, she looked decidedly pale, she thought. Pinching her cheeks, she carefully re-pinned her hair and, re-appraising herself, nodded in satisfaction.
Bracing herself and clenching her teeth, she strode to the stairway and began to descend. On the ground floor half a dozen white-clad soldiers eyed her with surprise as she approached. The one nearest the door, bearing a black and white striped crest on his helmet, stepped in front of the doors.
“You need to stay in house. Dangerous out.”
Asima found herself blinking in surprise. In her time here, she’d not heard any of the northern guardsmen speaking her language though, now she thought about it, some of them must do in order to communicate orders. She smiled at the guard officer.
“Thank you for your warning, kind sir, but I must insist on being allowed out.”
The guard shook his head and smiled a condescending smile in return to her own.
“Run along, girl. Go to father.”
Bridling, Asima felt the heat rise in her cheeks. How dare this man talk to her like that? She made to step forward, but the guard reached down and gently held her back. She stopped struggling and stepped back. This was both ridiculous and undignified. The guard would clearly not accede to the demands of an eleven year old. She could hardly face her father and ask him to speak to the guards. Biting her cheek and then chiding herself irritably for it, she glared at the guard officer and then turned and stalked away, back up the stairs.
Months of being trapped in this luxurious prison had given her endless time to explore. With the exception of the governor’s own rooms on the top floor and the temporary guard quarters on the ground, she had examined every nook and cranny of the building and, with her customary cunning, had long since discovered three private routes out of the building.
Frowning as she reached the top of the stairs, Asima glanced this way and that. The easiest exit, from the first floor balcony onto the roof of the stables, was blocked as a couple of other prisoners occupied the terrace looking out across the compound. Clicking her tongue in irritation, she made her way up the next flight of stairs. The third route would be dangerous and should be avoided if at all possible.
Hurrying now, she turned along one of the corridors on the second floor and rushed along to the end. From here, she could edge along the roof of the balcony below where the couple stood and reach the exterior wall. From there she could walk safely around the perimeter, high above the stable block, and descend next to the council buildings where the satrap now held court.
Asima was so busy planning her route from the window that, as she rounded the corner, she walked straight into the elderly nobleman and his wife.
“I am dreadfully sorry, master… ma’am.”
The man barely glanced at her, passing her by and hurrying along the corridor toward the stairs. The woman, however, grasped her by the shoulders.
“Whatever are you doing alone, child?”
Asima floundered.
“I… ah…”
“Come with me. We must find your father.”
Shaking her head, Asima tried to find words, an excuse to deny this lady.
“I have something to do, ma’am. My father knows…”
The lady turned her forcefully and began to propel her along the corridor in the direction from which she had come. Asima blinked in surprise and made protesting sounds. The lady stopped, turning her by the shoulders and glaring at her.
“This is not the time to throw a tantrum, young lady.”
Asima was so surprised at the force in the older lady’s voice, that she stopped struggling as she was
She leaned against the wall and rubbed her temples before folding her arms around her chest and fighting the rising gorge of fear. She couldn’t allow herself this kind of weakness.
Straightening, she shuffled along the wall to the large mirror, where she examined herself carefully. Despite her complexion, she looked decidedly pale, she thought. Pinching her cheeks, she carefully re-pinned her hair and, re-appraising herself, nodded in satisfaction.
Bracing herself and clenching her teeth, she strode to the stairway and began to descend. On the ground floor half a dozen white-clad soldiers eyed her with surprise as she approached. The one nearest the door, bearing a black and white striped crest on his helmet, stepped in front of the doors.
“You need to stay in house. Dangerous out.”
Asima found herself blinking in surprise. In her time here, she’d not heard any of the northern guardsmen speaking her language though, now she thought about it, some of them must do in order to communicate orders. She smiled at the guard officer.
“Thank you for your warning, kind sir, but I must insist on being allowed out.”
The guard shook his head and smiled a condescending smile in return to her own.
“Run along, girl. Go to father.”
Bridling, Asima felt the heat rise in her cheeks. How dare this man talk to her like that? She made to step forward, but the guard reached down and gently held her back. She stopped struggling and stepped back. This was both ridiculous and undignified. The guard would clearly not accede to the demands of an eleven year old. She could hardly face her father and ask him to speak to the guards. Biting her cheek and then chiding herself irritably for it, she glared at the guard officer and then turned and stalked away, back up the stairs.
Months of being trapped in this luxurious prison had given her endless time to explore. With the exception of the governor’s own rooms on the top floor and the temporary guard quarters on the ground, she had examined every nook and cranny of the building and, with her customary cunning, had long since discovered three private routes out of the building.
Frowning as she reached the top of the stairs, Asima glanced this way and that. The easiest exit, from the first floor balcony onto the roof of the stables, was blocked as a couple of other prisoners occupied the terrace looking out across the compound. Clicking her tongue in irritation, she made her way up the next flight of stairs. The third route would be dangerous and should be avoided if at all possible.
Hurrying now, she turned along one of the corridors on the second floor and rushed along to the end. From here, she could edge along the roof of the balcony below where the couple stood and reach the exterior wall. From there she could walk safely around the perimeter, high above the stable block, and descend next to the council buildings where the satrap now held court.
Asima was so busy planning her route from the window that, as she rounded the corner, she walked straight into the elderly nobleman and his wife.
“I am dreadfully sorry, master… ma’am.”
The man barely glanced at her, passing her by and hurrying along the corridor toward the stairs. The woman, however, grasped her by the shoulders.
“Whatever are you doing alone, child?”
Asima floundered.
“I… ah…”
“Come with me. We must find your father.”
Shaking her head, Asima tried to find words, an excuse to deny this lady.
“I have something to do, ma’am. My father knows…”
The lady turned her forcefully and began to propel her along the corridor in the direction from which she had come. Asima blinked in surprise and made protesting sounds. The lady stopped, turning her by the shoulders and glaring at her.
“This is not the time to throw a tantrum, young lady.”
Asima was so surprised at the force in the older lady’s voice, that she stopped struggling as she was
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