Chapter Twelve: Lost and Found...

Stand strong, even when you feel weak.
Keep your head up and your eyes open.
You never know how others will take that.

Lady Tamaida of Ninequor to her daughter when had been teased.

Teirra woke sometime during the early morning hours, groggy and feeling a little nausea. She would have rubbed her head had she not discovered that her wrists were bound behind her. She leaned back against the post she was tied to and thought back to the threat Alan had made a day before and wistfully wished she were there instead of Grufford's camp, at least she remembered that much.

Her legs felt stiff beneath her, making her shift restlessly, trying to relieve the uncomfortable pain. Teirra realized then that she was alone with only Grufford sitting watch smugly before her. She froze in an instant, staring at him.

"I can bet that you hate me, Lady Teirra." Grufford smirked at her and poked at the fire.

"Betting isn't honorable." She replied simply, her voice hoarse from the early morning and the drugs that had knocked her out.

Grufford laughed at her. "No, I don't suppose it is, my lady."

"Let me go." Teirra looked hopelessly at him. She didn't expect him to let her go, but she was at least trying.

"I can't do that. You have powerful friends." Grufford returned his attention to the fire.

"That won't matter. They know that no matter what, they will not give in to whatever you are asking of them." Teirra replied, feeling small at the truth.

Friends! She cried out to the horses near the camp. Help, please! They'll kill me. Please, help and I promise you will be cared for. I have not gone back on my promises yet.

A few of the horses stirred, catching Grufford's attention. He threw down the stick he had been poking the fire with and stalked toward the horses tied to the posts. He drew a knife and brought it close to the horse's neck.

"If you think to have them help you, I will slaughter each and every one of them I can lay my hands on and any horse after that. You will be the cause of their death." Grufford stared hard at her.

Teirra felt lost at his threat. She couldn't call on the only friends she had every really trusted or risk their lives. She couldn't risk their lives for her own. Teirra felt as if her heart were being twisted inside her.

Grufford smirked again and stepped away from the posts. "A good threat always works with a woman."

Teirra narrowed her eyes and put as much hatred in them as she could muster. The hate was dulled somewhat by the chill that was sticking to her skin in the damp air. Involuntarily, she shivered.

A few men came into her view, which was limited in the camp. Grufford rose to meet them and for the first time, Teirra noticed that he limped slightly on the leg that was broken by Prancer. Teirra would have smirked at that if she hadn't been tied to a post in Grufford's camp.

"What is it?" Grufford growled at the camp.

The man answered in Scanran, which annoyed Tierra a little, but she expected nothing else. Grufford stiffened and turned to her with a look that made her shrink back against the post. It must not have been the best news he had received and while that made her feel a little better, she didn't want to feel his wrath without being able to fight back.

Grufford stalked toward her and stopped to kneel in front of her, his faces inches from her own. "Keep your little horse talk to yourself, my lady. If I find out, and I will, that you have contacted your friends that way, I will kill one of these horses."

Teirra swallowed hard. "I didn't."

"Good." Grufford seemed satisfied by her answer and, with some difficulty, rose and went to his men. "Blindfold her. I don't want her to gain any hope." He looked back at her. "There isn't any."

Teirra was confused. Why would she need to be blind? She prayed that they weren't moving camp. Then her friends wouldn't be able to find her. She would be on her own with a man who killed without remorse.

Her world went dark as the rough cloth was tied tightly around her head. The weave was tight, so not even a hint of light penetrated. Teirra shook her head a few times, but nothing made the unending black change.

Grufford grabbed her chin roughly, holding her face in a hold that made her wince. "Enjoy the darkness, horse-witch, you will remain there." He shoved her face away, knocking her head back into the post behind her.

"Gag her, as well. Feed her once a day, the bare minimum." Grufford ordered.

Teirra let out a little cry of surprise that was cut short by another rough piece of cloth wrapped around her mouth. She felt miserable and even more upset with the man she should have killed when she had the chance. She could only pray to be rescued.

The next moments for Teirra were nothing more than a chaotic symphony of sound. Men shouted, both in Scanran and her own language. There was the sound of clashing metal and the shuffling of feet in dirt and grass. She couldn't tell what was going on, but she had a pretty good guess, or at least a pretty good hope.

Teirra pulled at her ties, feeling the rough rope around her wrists burn. She tossed her head, trying to free her mouth and struggled to get her feet untangled from underneath her. Whatever was going on, Teirra thought that if she freed herself, she could just escape.

In her struggle, Teirra found herself free. Her bonds were cut, she knew that much from the sound behind her. Someone dragged her to her feet, which felt stiff and awkward. Her capture shoved and dragged her forward and away from the sounds that gave her such hope.

Teirra kicked and in one kick, found herself free and on the ground. Crawling as fast as she could, she headed toward the sounds. Unfortunately, the man was quicker and had her on her feet once more.

"Stop, Grufford!"

Teirra's hope rose at the sound of Alan's voice and then her fury rose at Grufford. How dare this man hold her!

Grufford whirled around, taking Teirra with him and holding her before him like a shield. "You can't do anything to me. I have her!" He tightened his hold on her.

"Don't be a coward. Let the girl go." Alan's voice was calm and authoritative.

"I won't be killed by some boy. Oh!" Grufford fell forward, landing on Teirra's right half. She moaned through her gag and shoved the man away from her.

Teirra laid on the ground for a moment before strong arms hulled her to her feet and held her until she had her baring. It was a relief when gag and blindfold were cut and she could see and work her mouth once more.

The first thing she searched for was Grufford, who had disappeared once more. "Where is he?"

"He ran off like a coward. We'll find him, don't worry. Let's get back before my mother finds out what I have done before I can explain it to her." Alan grabbed her arm gently and pulled her towards a figure who crashed his way through to her.

"Prancer!" Teirra was the happiest she'd been in a few days, at least. Prancer on the other hand was less than thrilled. He nudged her enough to move her and snorted in her face.

"My mother, remember?" Alan glared at her.

"Yes, of course, sir." Teirra nodded.

Teirra noticed a letter resting on her packs back at camp. It felt odd to be back at camp where things proceeded so normally. Domitran avoided her whereas Jak had apologized to her at least a dozen times in the last hour. Nothing she said would calm their guilt. It didn't matter, anyway. Teirra was only to go out and find the man who was responsible for all this chaos.

Sighing, she sat herself down beside her things and took out her smallest knife which she used for her food and to open letters, which was what she was doing at that moment. The seal was her father's, which made her worry slightly. She hoped everything back home was doing just fine.

Teirra, dearest daughter,

Rough times have befallen our fief. We lost dearly in the attack that took your mother away from us so untimely and horribly. Our crops are doing poorly and many of our exports are bringing in poor revenues. You don't need to worry about the details.

It is unfortunate that I must inform you of my decision to try and remedy this problem. You must be betrothed, my child. Taex and I have been searching for the perfect suitor for you. He has recently been talking with the Count of Slate Coast, Samual. He is a promising…

Teirra didn't read more. She couldn't read more. Teirra let the letter fall to the ground in her shock. Being married meant that she couldn't be a Queen's Rider. Her dreams would be lost because she was a woman and a daughter to a man who needed a rich son-in-law. Anger replaced the shock and it was directed to her brother.

Author's note: This was a challenging chapter… I know I say that about each one, but this one was one of the top. I couldn't believe how challenging writing this has been. It should have been easier.