THE BASTARDS WERE RIDING HER DOWN.

Tasina shrieked and she ran, but here in the empty expanse of the Tallavan Plains, there was nowhere to go. There was only tall, scratchy grass as far as the eye could see. It clung to her knees with waving arms. Before her, the tall, imposing Vellurian mountains lay on the horizon, and far behind was the small village she had fled. Neither could provide her shelter when Lord Alaric Tarin’s soldiers were chasing.

Tasina glanced backwards and then wished that she hadn’t. The horses were close now, far too close. She could hear their hooves thundering on the dry land. Their riders sat confidently; they knew that Tasina could not hope to outrun them.

Still, she tried. Sweat trickled down her back and her legs ached with the burn of running. Please, Tasina begged the gods. Let there be something she could use to escape. A tree to climb, a wild horse to catch, anything. But her prayers went unanswered. There was only swaying, golden grass and the sound of her own, wild breaths.

“I’ve got her,” a familiar voice grunted, then Tasina was abruptly lifted from the ground. She twisted and clawed at the arm holding her, but Ceron’s grip was too strong as he pinned her to the front of his horse. He held her there with muscles like iron as he slowed his mount, which had pulled ahead of the others. With one arm, he waved for his companions to halt.

They both came to a stop beside him, easily rearing their horses. The expensive animals whinnied as Tasina desperately appraised her other captors. The first was a lanky, young man with a mop of orange hair and a smattering of unflattering freckles on his face. He looked about her age, but was strong and unwinded. The second man was stockier and older, in roughly his fortieth year. Both men wore common brown. They were foot soldiers, likely ones with tracking experience, and they were strong and healthy. She had no chance against either of them, with or without Ceron.

“This is the girl Lord Tarin’s spent the last fifteen months hunting down?” the youth with orange hair asked. He eyed her up and down with a brilliant grin on his face. Tasina immediately disliked him. “To think, it took our group only three weeks to catch her.”

“I’ve never tracked down prey so fast,” the other man said admiringly. “Amazing what good horses and gold can do for you. And dreamspeak, ‘course.”

Dreamspeak. Tasina surprised them all with a sudden wave of fury as she bit Ceron in the arm and tried to gain control of his reins. Ceron gave a start, but trying to knock him over was like trying to knock down a mountain. He easily pried her arms away and looked at her sternly.

“Enough, Tasina. You’ve been caught. You won’t escape with the three of us here, so don’t make me bind you.” He turned to his men. “Kor, Ebren, you might as well set up camp here. The sun will be setting soon and I want a fire lit and her fed before the chill sets in.”

Kor and Ebren dismounted and began to set up camp in Ceron’s chosen spot with the ease of experienced soldiers. Ceron continued to mind Tasina who, despite his warnings, had to have her arms bound behind her back once she was let down from his horse. She still did not stop trying to get away until he had driven a stake into the ground and tied her to it with a loop of rope around the waist.

Once Ceron pulled away, Tasina sullenly quieted down and tested the limits of her leash. Ceron had tied it well; she could go three paces in every direction, and then no further.

She was silent the rest of the hour that the men set up camp. They ignored her, thankfully. Much as Tasina hated to admit it, them running her down, and then her fighting, had exhausted her. She had been on the run the last ten days, ever since she ‘d first suspected that she had accidentally given her location away to Lord Alaric. It had been hard leaving Brisong, the capital of Havenrell--she’d hidden in the city for the last four months and clawed herself a somewhat stable living. Because of that, she’d dragged her feet, and left later than she should have.

Then, in a second mistake, she hadn’t gone far enough. She’d hoped that fleeing to a remote farming village on the outskirts of Havenrell would be enough to keep her hidden from Lord Alaric, but all it had done was bring her closer to him. This morning, the woman sheltering her had warned her that foreign soldiers were searching all the village homes for a lass with black hair and dark blue eyes, and Tasina had fled to the empty plains.

Foolish. Foolish of her to think she could ever let her guard down because she had been free of him for over a year. Foolish of her to think she could ever stop moving. Now she was paying the price, and Tasina would not let herself cry in front of these men.

She sat with her head down, until Kor, the red headed soldier, interrupted her thoughts with a bowl of porridge. “I’m to feed you.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Kor shrugged, and was about to pull the bowl away, when Ceron interrupted from across the fire. “Eat the food.”

Tasina’s eyes flashed. “I want nothing you have to offer me, and least of all something I cannot eat with my own hands. Do you mean to have this man spoon food into my lips and rob me of even that right?”

“I will unbind your hands,” Ceron conceded. Tasina shook her head in a stubborn no. Ceron’s jaw clenched, then his voice grew louder. “There is no option here. It is my charge to keep you safe and healthy. You will either eat the food of your own accord, or Kor and Ebren will hold you down while I force your dinner down your throat.”

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“You have no manners, it seems,” Tasina said, her eyes tightening. “If you are truly giving me no choice, then I will feed myself.”

Tasina waited until Kor had untied her arms and handed her the porridge bowl to upend it into the grass. She stared smugly at the men when it was done. Kor seemed shocked and Ebren faintly amused, but Ceron’s eyes were dark. He put his own food to the side and stood up slowly.

“Kor, Ebren, hold her on her knees.”

Immediately, both men were by her side and pressing a heavy hand on each shoulder. She was forced to kneel in the grass as they kept her in place. Tasina kept her mouth clamped shut and stared at the evening sky while Ceron refilled her porridge bowl. Was it foolish to struggle so much for a small moment of rebellion?

“You appear determined to make everything in your life as hard as possible,” Ceron commented. He pinched her nose until Tasina opened her mouth to gasp for air, then shoved a spoonful of porridge in. He held her jaw shut until she choked it down. Then he repeated the process until all the food in the bowl had been swallowed.

Ceron tossed the empty bowl to the side, then crossed back over to his own food. Kor and Ebren were left by her side as she wiped bits of porridge away from her mouth.

“What was the point of all that?” Kor asked Tasina, when she had finished cleaning herself and a long second had passed. The air was quiet except for the crackle of the fire, and Tasina took a moment to watch the orange hues of the setting sun.

As if you could ever understand.

Ebren answered when she did not. “I used to be my village’s bounty hunter, back before Lord Tarin recruited me for his army. I’ve brought back many a wayward lass over the years. Whether I’m taking her back to a good man or bad, whether she’s got a lover or she’s just running all on her own, she always acts like that. Stubborn as a mule. Ain’t no explanation, Kor, ‘cept that angry women like to be difficult.”

Kor nodded sagely.

“I wanted him to know that I hold him responsible,” Tasina said suddenly. “I wanted Ceron to recognize that I blame him for bringing me back and that I will never want anything he touches or anything he offers. I wanted him to feel even a second of my rage and bitterness.” She tore a handful of grass from the ground and tossed it into the air.

Kor and Ebren looked at each other, then Kor chuckled. “M’lady, you’re a fierce woman and I think your bouts of rebellion will be worth watching. But not a man here feels any of this ‘rage’ or ‘bitterness’ for returning you to our Lord Tarin. We only feel satisfaction.”

He gave her a condescending pat on the shoulder, then both he and Ebren wandered back to the horses.

The sun continued to sink low into the sky, until all the stars had come out and then suddenly it was gone. Tasina shuddered at the sudden chill in the breeze. She watched her captors as they prepared their own bedding, wondering what was in store for her. She had no hopes of them letting her sleep unattended. But she was exhausted. Tonight, warm wool blankets and the chance to recover her strength would be enough.

“Do not forget the last part of Lord Tarin’s orders,” Ceron ordered Kor, who stood by the horses. “You and Ebren set her up with her bedding, then catch some sleep. I’ll take first watch. We’ll be leaving at dawn and riding hard.”

“Aye.” Kor nodded, and Ebren followed. They then returned to Tasina and spread her blankets on the ground before her.

Tasina was incredulous. “Velvet?”

“We won’t force you to use them like Ceron would,” Kor said appeasingly. “I suspect the cold’ll do that for us, though. On this side of the mountains, even early autumn is chill.”

Tasina said nothing, knowing he was right. Then she saw Ebren pull out a coil of rope from his pack.

“Why are you binding me? You said you would not force me to use the blankets.”

Ebren shrugged apologetically as he ignored her protests and forcefully knotted her wrists behind her back. He connected it to the rope around her waist. “Sorry, m’lady. The ropes ain’t for the blankets. The lord said to use them so you couldn’t take the necklace off.”

The necklace?

Tasina’s eyes widened when she saw the small, silver chain that Kore pulled out of his pocket. A fat, emerald green stone was nested in its center, glimmering dangerously in the firelight. Tasina immediately scrambled backwards, but with rope wrapped around her waist and wrists, she could not go more than a few steps away. Still, she battled to keep her distance as Ebren tried to corner her.

“Don’t make me wear that,” she said, real panic in her voice.

Kor frowned at the unexpected response, then glanced over to his superior. “She’s not responding well to the necklace, Commander. It's even worse than with the porridge.”

Ceron’s face was impassive. “She’s expected to react that way. Put it on her neck anyway.”

Ebren finally got a hold on Tasina and knocked her down. She struggled as Kor quickly hung the chain around her neck and locked it on with a small click.

Ceron was despicable. Kor spineless. Ebren weak. They all deserved to suffer.

The green stone was heavy on her throat. It settled perfectly into the hollow on her neck, as if it were made for her, held there by a chain she could not knock away because of her bound hands. Tasina was forced to endure unbearable thing. It throbbed oddly as it emitted wave after wave of heat onto her skin. She had never been forced to wear one of these before, but she knew exactly what the green stone was. Lord Alaric had shown her one long ago. It was a dreamseeker stone.

The stone helped dreamspeakers pump their power into its wearer. It helped them slip into dreams. It helped them govern them.

With it, Lord Alaric could control her so much easier.