“Stay away from me,” I said softly, trying to look everywhere at once, “or I’ll scream and let them know you’re here.”

A branch snapped. I whirled about, but saw nothing. Backing slowly away from the hunt toward the downhill side of the clearing, my hand moved slowly toward my slit pocket where I could reach the knife sheath hidden under my skirt. But whatever I thought to do with my pitiful weapon was left undone. A muscular arm reached from behind and wrapped itself about my neck, while another grabbed my waist, crushing my elbow into my ribs. I fought to keep my footing as my assailant dragged me downstream through the water and into a dense tangle of cedar, pine, and juniper. Twigs and sharp, dry underbranches caught in my hair, slapped and stung my face.

My captor’s arm was fiercely sunburned, the skin scratched and abraded. The heart pressed so close to my back was thudding ferociously, and his sweat soaked the back of my tunic. He stank of unwashed terror.

I slammed my unrestrained elbow into his belly, tore at his arms, stomped my boot somewhere in the region of his foot, and flailed at his flank—discovering to my surprise that he seemed to be entirely unclothed. When I reached over my head to claw at his eyes, he used my own right arm to bat away my left and tightened his hold on my throat.

The pursuit careened through the woodland, the riders so close, I could almost smell the leather harness and feel the cool steel of their blades. Yet even if I could have mustered a shout or a scream, I wouldn’t have done so. I had no illusions that those giving chase were more benevolent than my captor. Such was the state of the vile world. I just wanted to get loose, to get out from between pursuers and pursued. A bizarre struggle… both of us wordless, desperate.

My chest hurt. Feebly, I tried jamming my fingers between my windpipe and his arm, but he trapped both my wrists in one broad hand and pinned them to my breast. But just as the black spots before my eyes started swirling together, he shifted backward a few wobbling steps, jolting to a stop as if he’d backed into a tree. My knees buckled and left me sagging against his arm, and either the change of position or some release on his part allowed me to gulp a bucketful of air.