Tarnach dragged Jace none-too-gently back up on deck and into a cabin at the rear of the ship, with the governor’s men in tow. The cabin was tiny but the small furnishings looked to be well-made and in good condition. The feathered princess was bound in chains that were securely fastened to the posts of a small bed. A white cloth served as a gag.
“Don’t get all excited now… simple rope’s good enough for the likes of you,” Tarnach said, and proceeded to tie him to a chair.
“Right,” said one of the soldiers. He was a greenish fellow with bare patches of exposed skin where some infection had caused scales to dry up and flake away. His companion had dark fur with a lighter stripe down the center of his head and three sets of streaks like war paint under his eyes. “His Lordship would prefer you don’t spend too much time in the company of his property before he takes possession.”
“And what is his policy about men in her company after he takes possession?” Tarnach asked. “Never mind. If his concern is for her virtue, I can assure him that I have virtues enough to go around.”
“Just get on out of here,” the furred soldier said.
“As you wish,” Tarnach said, making a deep bow before sweeping out of the room, his cloak swishing in his wake.
The guards left and Jace heard the sound of a key turning in the lock. He waited until he heard the sound of booted feet moving away.
“Can you hear me?” he whispered, craning his neck so he could see the princess’s face. She nodded. “My name is Jace. I’m here to rescue you.”
She gave him a somewhat skeptical look.
“What, the ropes?” he asked. “Don’t worry. I have a cunning plan… which I don’t dare share with you, in case we’re overheard.” She rolled her eyes. “I just have to wait for the right moment to arrive. Sorry, can’t tell you anything else.”
Cunning plan, Jace thought. Cunning plan. He looked around the room to see if he could spot a glass lantern which he could shatter to get oil to lubricate the ropes or a shard of glass to cut them, or anything sharp.
Outside his field of vision, the princess let out a muffled squeak and then began to make excited noise through her gag. Jace turned to see what she was on about and saw a leather belt hanging on one corner of the bed, with a large hunting knife in a sheath on it. Some assorted clothes seemed to have been flung down there, though he didn’t recall having seen them before.
“How did I miss that?” he asked out loud. He really didn’t think he had. Moreover, he didn’t think Montaldo would be so careless as to leave a knife with his prisoner, and the governor’s men would’ve objected to leaving Jace tied up with a knife in plain view. “Is that yours? Did you put that there?”
The princess shook her head.
“Where’d it come from?”
She shrugged her shoulders as well as she could, though her big, golden eyes were wide with something like wonder.
“I guess fate’s still on my side,” Jace said. “Fate or Tarnach.”
As carefully as he could, Jace tipped the chair up and jostled it closer to the bed. He waited, his pulse loud in his ears, to see if anybody would come to investigate the noise, and then he inched closer again. He closed the distance to the miraculous belt in this fashion, a task that would have been painstakingly slow to a boy of Jace’s temperament under any circumstances.
Then, finally, he had the back of the chair right up by the bed post. He got his hands on the belt, and moved it around until he could feel the knife.
He got it in free of the sheath. It was his. He had a knife, a tool to free himself and a weapon to help make good their escape.
Fate was definitely on his side… fate or Tarnach. He couldn’t presume to guess which would prove to be the more fickle ally.
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