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ever smaller in the distance.
    They met up with the other men along the tree-line and while Aislin thought they would disappear into the woods, instead they traveled along its edges, always avoiding moving within. They seemed to be in a fair amount of haste, galloping a good part of the way and watering the horses and themselves only when it seemed necessary.
    A good number of times as they traversed the plains she felt his erection rubbing against her ribs. She might have been saved the pain and humiliation of rape in the forest, but she was no fool. The time was coming. She had no idea why he spared her earlier, but he didn't seem the sort to put off what he wanted for long. Best she use the travel to plot and plan how she would manage to escape that atrocity when the time came. She imagined herself stealing one of their swords in the dark of night and sticking it into each of the men's bellies while they slept. For the hundredth time in her seasons she resented the fact that her mother hadn't marked her. What a fool Indiris had been to think that she alone could protect the village. To think so confidently that she could keep her daughter from harm's way that she refused to mark her with the symbols that would have given her the magic she needed to protect herself. She just prayed to the goddess that Indiris had already noticed her daughter missing and had sent someone to the rescue. She had to believe it.
    Finally, with so much blood rushing to her head, she couldn't lie still any longer and squirmed against him, trying to either push herself from the beast or have him grow so frustrated at her movements that he pulled her astride the mount like a human being.
    What he did was slap her on the ass like he would a child. "Keep still," he said.
    "I'm going to pass out," she complained.
    "You say that like it's a bad thing," he said.
    "I might die," she said.
    "At least you'll be spared your worst fear," he answered, but he scooped beneath her belly and tucked her against his chest, letting her legs fall on either side of the beast's back. She couldn't help but lean into him.
    They only entered the woods come evening, and he pushed her off the horse so that she landed on unsteady feet.
    He tossed her a tinder bundle that he pulled from the side of his saddle.
    "We're hungry," he said. "Get the fire started."
    She had to work to stay on her feet, but she did so with dogged determination, taking in each dirty face that met hers as though she would need to remember them in order to kill them later. Six men faced her, but one face stood out to her. Those green eyes and bush of black curls wouldn't meet her gaze as she clutched the tinder bundle. She thought he would be the second to die.
    She threw it down on the moss. "Make your own fire."
    Feran stepped forward to tangle his fingers in her hair and yank. Her teeth clicked sharply together and she cringed beneath his grip.
    "If all you want of her is a fire wench," he said. "I can make better use of her."
    She felt Chelan's hands against the back of her head as he gripped Feran's wrist.
    "Not now, Feran," Chelan said. "We have to decide what were going to do next. That's more important than a roll in the grass."
    The spindly youth who had held the horses just outside the village walls stepped forward. "I'll start the fire," he said, sending a quick glance to Aislin and dropping it just as quickly as she met it. "Maybe she can help me find firewood."
    Feran let go her hair and Chelan nodded at her. She had no idea how far they'd come, but she knew that this small reprieve might give her an opportunity to scope out her surroundings, maybe even slip away under the guise of collecting the fuel they needed. She edged sideways, keeping her eye on Chelan's green one, waiting for him to refuse her the task. Instead, he strode toward her, jerking his chin towards the deeper woods.
    "Don't worry," he said. "I'll be right behind you."
    She thought she could hear the rest of the men