The Farwalker's Quest by Joni Sensel

put there by the knowledge that Canberra Docks was falling much farther behind her than anyone in the village had ever been.
    As the sky finally paled for dawn, Scarl stopped the horse. Blearily, Ariel took in the world around her. The woods had given way to choppy hills covered mostly with scrub. The air smelled not of seawater but grass. Even if she escaped, she wouldn’t know which way to run.
    At Scarl’s bidding and with his help, she scissored one leg over Orion’s neck and slid down to her feet. At first, her legs nearly collapsed. They felt warped.
    â€œYou’ll have time to stretch them,” Scarl said, as he jumped down himself. “We’ll be walking from here.”
    â€œWhere are we?”
    Instead of answering, he led her like a goat on a leash to a nearby patch of witch broom.
    â€œDo your business, if you’ve a mind to,” he said, turning his back.
    â€œHere?” She cringed, loath to attend to such private matters with him standing so near.
    â€œUnless you see a privy.” The hiss of his own relief raked Ariel’s ears. The sound also tugged at her bladder, which indeed ached from hours of terror and jouncing.
    Flesh burning, she tucked herself as far behind the prickly shrub as her leash would permit. Some things were easier for boys. Squatting, she confronted a new dilemma.
    â€œBut I can’t take down my drawers with no hands.” Tears clotted her throat. This indignity rivaled any of the rough handling to which she’d been treated that night.
    Expecting him to be as cold to this care as any other, she was surprised when he pulled her back to her feet.
    â€œThere are worse things,” he said. But he untied her wrists and reknotted the rope with her hands together in front so she could manage the task. “Don’t make me regret this.”
    â€œI won’t,” she promised. A flush of gratitude angered her.
    Compared to the prospect of wetting her underpants, the lack of a wipe or washbasin seemed a minor concern. When she turned back to him, red-faced, she expected to see him peeking and snickering as the village boys might have done. Instead, he stared away from her to the approaching dawn, one hand clenching his nape as if he were disturbed by the rose-petal hues.
    He led her to a rock outcrop with a spring bubbling at its base. After lashing Ariel’s tether to another sturdy shrub, Scarl hobbled Orion’s forelegs, wrapping them near the hoof with a short rope to prevent the horse from wandering far. Freed of his burden, Orion rolled gratefully and then plunged his nose into the spring, slurping and snorting. Bitterly Ariel licked her dry lips. The horse had more freedom than she did.
    She shuddered inside her thin nightgown and curled tighter for warmth. Without the cruel shelter of Scarl’s body or the heat rising from the horse, she was freezing.
    â€œI’m cold,” she said, when Scarl came to sit near her.
    â€œNot much help for it before Elbert gets here. He didn’t trust that I’d wait if I had any gear.” He kicked off his boots and stretched his long legs before retying the far end of her tether to his own wrist. Ariel watched closely. She’d best learn the knot if she could hope somehow to untie it.
    He lay back as if to sleep. With hope rising inside her, she scanned the hard ground for weapons—a rock to bang on his head, a stick to poke into his eye. Her chances of escape would shrink greatly once two men guarded her. But even after Scarl’s lids closed, her slightest movement drew his attention. Hoping to lull him asleep, she held still for long stretches, but one of his eyelids kept flashing open. Finally she gave up and lay down herself, turning her back to her captor.
    The ground drained out any warmth her body still had. Her teeth chattered.
    A movement rustled behind her. “Here. Draw a bit closer.”
    She turned her head. He’d removed his oilcloth coat