The second time Kamoth Kastelmar came to visit Mirya in her cell, she knew she had to escape or die trying. The pirate lord had stopped by once on the second day of their imprisonment to check on their accommodations-or so he said. But the whole time he’d been discussing routine matters such as bedding, fresh water, and the quality of their meals, he’d stared at Mirya through the bars with a cold smile beneath his beard. A few hours later, a dour- faced slave woman had come by with an armful of new clothes for her and, asked for her to remove what she’d been wearing for days now so that it could be washed. Mirya was none too happy to strip in her cell, but no men were in sight, and her dress sorely needed a washing. She’d complied, only to find that her new clothing was more than a little scandalous by Hulburg’s standards. Instead of her sensible, neck-to-ankle, long-sleeved dress of blue wool, she was given a thin gown of crimson silk with a plunging neckline and diaphanous sleeves. At least Selsha was decently covered; the slave had brought her a small servant’s tunic and smock that Mirya was able to fit to her with a couple of strategic tucks and knots.
Late the following day, Kamoth stopped by for the second time. He leaned against the bars of her cell and grinned broadly. “Well now, Mistress Erstenwold, perhaps I did you a discourtesy when I said you’d fetch a better price in the markets of Chessenta if you hadn’t seen your twentieth year yet,” he said. “That’s a far more fetching outfit you have on today. You’re a fine sight, you surely are. Why, it seems a shame to leave you locked up in my cellar. There’s a much better room for you in the keep.”
Mirya shivered, but she stood her ground with her arms folded over her chest. It was about the only way she felt decently covered. “I don’t want to be any trouble,” she said. “We’re comfortable enough, unless you’re willing to bargain our release.”
“As I told you before, Mistress Erstenwold, your money and property are of no great value to me here.” He studied her closely, and his dark eyes glittered in the torchlight. “But perhaps other arrangements might be made.”
Mirya flushed. She took a deep breath to calm herself. “I’m sure you’ve no lack of women at your call, Lord Kamoth. You can hardly need me for … company.”
Kamoth shrugged. “Perhaps, my dear, but I simply don’t see what else you have to bargain with. Besides, you’re being modest. I like my women tall and slender, and I admire your courage. I surely do.”
Mirya started to answer with the idea of begging the pirate lord to be kind for Selsha’s sake if not her own, but stopped herself short. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was to remind Kamoth that her daughter was in his power, as well. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to protect Selsha, and that was all there was to it. Instead she said, “Geran Hulmaster will be looking for me. Let me go, and he’ll have no quarrel with you.”
The pirate lord enjoyed a long laugh at that. Mirya frowned, wondering what it was that he knew that she didn’t. When he finished, he passed a hand over his face and shook his head. “Geran Hulmaster is very unlikely to forget his quarrel with me at this point, my dear. He’s welcome to look for you all he wants, though. It’ll be a long time before he comes to storm our battlements. A long time indeed!”
“Why?” Mirya demanded. “Where are we?”
Kamoth chuckled again and turned to the guards who flanked him. “Have Mistress Erstenwold bathed and brought to my chambers this evening,” he said. “Take the girl and put her in the common pens. No need to be unkind to her-as long as Mistress Erstenwold remains pleasant company, well, little Selsha here will be quite taken care of with the keep’s servants. Am I clear?”
“Don’t take me away from her!” Mirya objected. She flung herself to the bars of her cage, but Kamoth was already leaving. “Please! Let Selsha stay with me!”
The pirate lord paused to glance over his shoulder. “Now, now, don’t make a scene. I hate scenes, Mistress Erstenwold.” Then he strode out of sight down the corridor. The guards leered at Mirya then followed their lord.
Selsha threw her arms around Mirya’s waist. “I want to stay with you, Mama!” she said. “I don’t want to be by myself here!”
Mirya hugged her daughter to her. “I know, darling. I’m afraid too.” If she had to, she’d do her best to be pleasant company to Kamoth … but she suspected that Kamoth was the sort of man who quickly tired of his toys. She interested him now because she looked him in the eye and refused to let him see how terrified she was. That would not last long once she surrendered to him. He’d discard her soon enough, and then where would Selsha be? She couldn’t leave her daughter alone in a place like this. She simply couldn’t.
“Better to be hung for a goat than a sheep,” she muttered to herself.
Selsha looked up at her. “What did you say?”
“We can’t wait for Geran any longer. If we can get away from here on our own, now’s the time to try. Otherwise the pirates will split us up, and I’ll never have the courage to try it.”
Selsha nodded. “How can we get out?”
Mirya smiled. “Well, I’ve given it some thought, and I’ve an idea how it might be done. I think you might be able to squeeze between the bars if I help you a little.”
“But what about you, Mama?”
“I’ll need a little more help.” Mirya kneeled to bring her face closer to Selsha’s. “When you get out of this cell, you’ll have to go down the hallway here to one of the storerooms we passed, find me a good sturdy bit of rope or a chain, and bring it back here.”
“I … I don’t think I can,” Selsha said in a small voice.
“My darling, you must, or we’ll be in the power of these wicked men for the rest of our days.” Mirya cupped Selsha’s face with her hand. “I know you can do it. You’re the bravest, most clever girl I’ve ever known. Now, let’s see if we can get you through the bars.”
Mirya stood up and took a closer look at the bars of the cell. She’d studied them thoroughly during the last day or two-after all, what else did she have to occupy herself, other than entertaining Selsha and keeping her calm? The cell’s bars were inch-thick iron, anchored firmly at floor and ceiling, with two horizontal braces to secure them: one at her midthigh, the other a little above her shoulders. “Come over here and try to fit your head between the bars,” she told Selsha. “Carefully, now!”
Selsha kneeled and leaned her head against the bars. It would be very close. Mirya looked carefully to see how much more she’d need. “All right,” she breathed. “Selsha, I want you to strip down to your underthings and use our washbucket and soap to get yourself slippery all over. Make sure you soap up head and hair best of all. I’ll see if I can bend this just a little bit.”
She braced one foot against a bar, gripped the opposite bar, took several deep breaths, and threw all her strength into bowing the bar, even if it was just a little bit. She strained until a gasp of effort burst from her lips. Then she reversed her position and started on the opposite bar, pushing it in the other direction.
“I’m ready, Mama,” Selsha said. She grinned at Mirya from underneath a head full of suds; the prospect of adventure had lifted her spirits.
Mirya slowly pushed herself upright and looked at the bars. She hadn’t moved them much at all, but perhaps it was far enough. “Covered in soap, are you? Good. Now come here, and let’s see if you can get out. Try your head first-if your head goes through, the rest of you must follow.”
She moved out of the way to make room for Selsha. The girl pressed herself against the bars at the place where Mirya had tried to widen the gap. For a long moment, she struggled in vain, and Mirya despaired. This was the only plan she’d been able to come up with, and the bars were just too strong for her. But then, with a sharp cry, Selsha forced her head through. “I’m stuck!” she wailed.
“No, you’re not!” Mirya answered. “We’ll get you through!” She helped Selsha to turn her shoulders and pushed as hard as she dared. Selsha caught again at the chest, but Mirya had her exhale as far as she could, and in one more push she spilled out onto the floor of the hallway.
“I did it!” Selsha exclaimed. She did a little dance in the hall, and despite the desperation of the moment Mirya smiled at the sight of her daughter shaking suds all over the floor. “But now I’ve got soap in my eyes!”
“And I’m sorry for that, Selsha, but look-now you’re out!” Mirya answered. She handed Selsha her tunic through the bars. “Here you go. Dress quick, and then offwith you! The longer we take, the more likely it is that we’re caught. There’s a storeroom just a few feet down the hallway there. I need a rope, a chain, something like that.” She smiled. “Or the key to the cell, if you see it hanging near.”
Selsha pulled the simple servant tunic over her head and ran off down the hall. Mirya pressed her face to the
