The
procession of prisoners stopped in the late afternoon. They had crossed the Greyland
border during the night and driven the prisoners west all day. Lucy’s legs
ached and her knee was agony. She could ride, and ride well, for an hour or
even more but she was not nearly strong enough for this.
When the man called a halt she
felt near fainting. She nearly did faint when the man chivalrous helped her
down from her horse and her foot hit the ground. The pain that snaked its way up
her leg and agonized her knee. The man, without comment, without so much as looking
at her picked up Lucy, and carried her like a child to the base of a large
tree. After a few sharp commands she was brought water which she drank gladly.
She could see the other girls drinking as well. Most were crying, some were
almost asleep already but none seemed to be suffering from more than the long day
of forced marching. The place they had stopped would have been pleasant had it
not been for the lack of any color on the long barren plains land. Tree sprung
up every few feet and would have been inviting if they had not been so exactly
spaced. The whole country had the feel of something not quite right.
“Tell
me about your attacks.” The man’s voice broke into Lucy’s reverie.
“What?”
“Your attacks of pain, how
often they occur, when you last had one, what you do to ease the pain.”
She continued to stare at him blankly.
“I need to have this information in
case you fall ill on the road.”
Finally she seemed to understand. “They
come about twenty times a year, though not evenly, usually clustered with a few
spaced out. They can last anywhere from a few hours to two days. They used to
be longer. Sometimes applying heat and cold alternatively can relive some of
the pain.” She stopped.
“And your last one?”
“Two weeks ago and it lasted six
hours.”
He nodded. “Can you tell when they are
coming?”
“No,” Her pale blue eyes were hard.
“Why were you there?”
Lucy took a breath. “I would prefer
not to speak of it.” She had no idea where Judy had been that May morning when
the cursed sickness first took shape, but more lies would only trap her later.
He laughed in a distant hollow way. “Sleep
then and dream of kinder days.” He walked off toward the cages where some tall
men with grey hair and stiff uniforms had appeared. Lucy guessed that they were
Greyland troops and her heart leapt. Greyland was, at least in theory, allied
with Mixupland. But it sunk again when she saw the greeting was cordial. The
guards inspected the prisoners and left with three boys and two girls. They
kept pointing at other of the female prisoners but the man shook his head. Lucy
knew one of the girls vaguely as a Greyland Earl’s daughter and surmised that
they were handing over the Greylandese prisoners in exchange for safe passage.
By then she was asleep; dreaming of color and of cold.
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