A full moon beamed through an arrow slit in a small tower room, serving as the chamber's only sliver of light. The room seemed to be made entirely of worn, grey stone, without any sort of decoration on the floor or wall. It's size could have been measured in large steps: Four it's berth, and five it's length. Clothing that looked more like rags lay strewn across the stone floor. An old, wooden four-poster bed with a single moth-eaten coverlet served as the tower's only furniture, save for a clay pot under the window. And on top of the bed, sitting cross-legged with a determined look upon her face, was a girl clutching a bulging knapsack to her chest as if trying to protect it from the shadows lurking in the room. She seemed to be listening.
It was difficult to discern her features in the scant illumination, but those large eyes, resolute and unfaltering in their examination of the bed, appeared to emit a light of their own, and they seemed to be the exact same shade of gray as the stone that surrounded them. Underneath them sat a long, straight nose, and under that, a pair of thin lips that, in better lighting, may have been watermelon-coloured. Very dark brown hair was tucked into a broad-brimmed hat that had seen better days. The girl's clothing was simple; it consisted of an undyed linen shirt and brown woolen tunic, with soft brown breeches and worn leather boots. Her fingers were long and slightly spidery, with nails gnawed down to the quick.
"Alright," the girl sighed after a moment, "time to get going, I think. The watch should be change-"
A bell rang clear through the darkness, just once, and was immediately followed by the shouted orders of many men. The girl leapt off the bed, almost losing her hat in the process, but she held it on with one hand as the other held the knapsack. Crossing the room in three quick strides, she stopped at an old wooden door, the tower's only exit. She crouched towards the knob, listening through the key hole.
A second later, a metallic click came from the door's handle; a voice whispered, "Milady Mara..." and the door opened forward to reveal a frightened-looking maid in a stained woolen dress, holding a candle in the hand that wasn't holding the door open. Greasy yellow strands fought to escape a loose bun, and her whole body seemed to be shaking. "Time to go!" she hissed.
Quickly, the girl called Mara went through the doorway, throwing her knapsack onto her back and hugging the maid for shortest of moments. "Thanks so much, Leti. I shan't forget you for this." And the two exchanged brief smiles before Mara dashed down the twisting stone stairs that would lead to the bottom of the keep, and her ticket to freedom.
Mara reached the bottom steps and paused for a moment, both to catch her breath and to make sure that no one was around. Then she shot through the doorway to the right into the cool night air, the frost-covered grass crunching under her feet, trying to stay as close to the wall as she could. It was only ten feet from here to the stable yard, if she could just make it without being seen...
After the longest three seconds ever recorded, Mara reached the open-air stables, and breathed a sigh of relief. Just one more part to the plan, and she would be free.
A horse nickered next to her, a ragged grey mare. It seemed restless, and Mara went to her, hugging the nose that was shoved into her chest.
"Not tonight, Kliar. I need to really make 'im sting, yeh know?" With a kiss on the nose, Mara went to a stall three down from Kliar, smiling as the horses neighed at the intruder. Coming upon a glittering black stallion already saddled, Mara grinned to see that a saddlebag and blanket lay in the rushes near the gate of the horse's stall. She was to have help, then.
With a creak that made her wince, Mara opened up the stall and led the stallion out by his bridle, and secured the saddlebag, knapsack, and blanket to the back of the saddle. She mounted the horse swiftly, emitting a slight grunt of discomfort as bottom met horseback. He seemed to take this as a sign to begin moving, and so he began to walk out of the stable and down the cobbled road.
The castle loomed behind them, a great, menacing thing with pointy-roofed towers and gargoyles. No light came from any of the three dozen windows, and neither could any sound be heard. Unlike other, larger holdings, this particular stronghold was but a castle-keep, and four small guard stations inside a tall stone wall about 15 feet high. A path led from the simple steps to the main building to the gate wall. The gate was a portcullis made of extremely heavy iron that took at least five minutes for three men to raise. Now it was up, letting in the civilian guardsmen that kept watch over the small fortress. The black blurs trickled in, heading for the guard stations at each corner of the wall, some joking with two or three other blurs, others solemnly stalking towards their positions. Mara whispered a silent prayer, and checked too make sure that her hat was securely in place before kneeing her horse into a trot.