The room was scarcely furnished, with a small bed, a solitary chair and table with a dripping candle on top, a chamberpot, and a wash basin with stagnant water inside. Almost everything was made from the wood of the forest.
It was not what Ida was accustomed to, but she knew she would be riding rough for a while until she reached Stonebridge and had to make-do with what she could get.
I’d rather a stained, lumpy bed than insects and twigs and rocks for a mattress, she thought as she dropped her bag by the door.
Finally, Ida felt comfortable enough to remove her hood, letting her hair flow down past her shoulders, black as night. It was a freeing feeling to remove the uncomfortable mask of her false identity, even if it were for only a short amount of time.
For a brief moment, before the barmaid came upstairs with her supper, she was Jodie Blacktree again.
※
Night came strangely in Deepwood.
The forest was always in a state of dimness from the expansive canopy of the redwood trees. And given that the sky was basically impossible to see, the only way to tell that the sun had gone down was the change in ambient lighting and the rise of insect calls, like a loud, buzzing symphony.
The perpetual lack of light was otherworldly, but it helped Ida get to sleep faster than usual.
And sleep she did. Her body was thankful to finally get some rest in a bed, any bed. Her muscles ached from all the riding, and her head was eager for a break.
It didn’t last long.
Ida awoke in her uncomfortable bed a short time later to a hand over her mouth. She attempted to scream but was unable to let out anything loud than a muffled groan.
The shadowy figure above her held her down with great force as she tried fighting him off, kicking her legs and smacking with her hands.
She saw others in the room with her, their unusual silhouettes standing out in the dim blue light like horrors from a nightmare. Ida could feel the rough fingertips across her face and the pressure of other hands as they held her limbs down.
She smelt the scent of stale beer and sweat and could taste the bitter fear in her mouth.
This was no dream.
The assailants did not utter a single word.
One of the figures covered her head in a sack, and Ida was instantly thrown into a state of incoordination. Her wrists and ankles were bound with rope, and Ida was heaved off the bed and thrown a broad shoulder like an animal carcass.
The man carrying her was huge. He began walking and she heard loud thuds as the others left the room too. They knew what they were doing.
Ida could not see a single thing. Panic set in.
“That’s her,” a voice said. It was a familiar voice, softer than a man’s voice.
Ida began to weep upon realising the croaky voice belonged to the old barmaid with the bad teeth she had spoken to earlier in the night.
They found me. No, no, no. Heavens, no. They have found me.
“You sure?” the man carrying her asked.
“Said her name was ‘Ida’. No family name. Fit the description of the girl you were looking for, though,” the woman said coldly.
Ida begged to be let go, but her pleas came out muffled through the sack and were ignored.
“My boss’ll be the judge of that.”
The men who had captured her continued on their way, Ida assumed to the exit of the inn.
“Wait, where’s my money?” the barmaid shouted from behind.
The man carrying Ida paused but did not respond.
“You promised fifty gold marks to whoever found this Blacktree bitch.”
In a gruff voice, the man replied, “You get paid when her identity is confirmed with my boss.”
He did not even wait for a response. He and his men marched for the ground floor to the barmaid’s displeasure. She called them liars and thieves, but they ignored each insult as if they were above such petty things.
Ida, her energy drained from her thrashing and fighting, realised that she would not be able to escape. Her arms and legs were bound, her head covered, and they were strong.
What chance do I stand?
The kidnappers had a boss who was seeking her, the real her, for whatever reason. Probably to pay a bounty to get her back, Ida supposed.
Perhaps I can outsmart them. Make them believe I am not Jodie Blacktree.
Panic was setting in.
The best she could hope for was that these men would not hurt her, and that their ‘boss’ could be reasoned with. She had played men before and despite the shock of being dragged out of bed by strangers in the middle of the night, she was able to think a step ahead and plan for what was next come.
In a state of fear, Ida was thrown onto the front of a horse with the man who carried her riding at her back. She had no chance to escape. She could hear the others mounting up. And before she could even catch her breath, they rode off into the night.
Act IVInferno
Chapter 37 - The Silence
Ten years earlier…
Katryna Bower floated in the bathtub, feeling the gentle ripples of the warm, soapy water slosh against her nakedness.
Her makeup was smeared down her face from crying. She took some of the water and washed herself, trying her best to wipe away the grime and the hurt.
Where’s father? Why hasn’t he said anything to mother? Why am I still locked away?
The bathtub sat in the centre of the
