Page 41 of Mated to the Alien Warlord

"Your pregnancy seems to be progressing just fine. The baby seems in a good position, and if I had to guess, I would say you will hold him in your arms come next month." Her voice was warm, and I imagined her giving this message to hundreds of mothers to be. Only with them, it wasn't a countdown to their death.

"Thank you," I replied in a wavering voice and tried to give her a brave smile.

"Don't give up, you're not friendless," she said quietly, squeezing my arm, leaving me by myself again to ponder her ominous words.

By late afternoon, a different army was camped outside my window, but I didn't want to look at it. This time, the sight was too depressing. They came to hunt down Vandor and his warriors.

All day, I planned my escape. Getting out seemed easy enough. As a kid, I had done so a hundred times. My mom would lock me in my room when I hadn't listened or behaved like a lady was supposed to, and I became quite adept at pushing the key through the keyhole and catching it on the other side with a piece of cloth I had pushed underneath the door. I didn't doubt for a moment that I would be able to do so here too, but so far, I hadn't figured out where to go once I was out.

Now I knew.

Now I had a plan.

Fionbyr had provided me with elegant clothing during my stay, but I had kept the simple gown I had worn when his henchmen captured me. It was still stained and dirty from my ordeal when I was taken, but that would serve my purpose perfectly.

I scolded myself for not having been more foresighted before and horded my food. Grobhan was a generous host, and most days I sent more food back to the kitchen than I ate. In hindsight, I should have hoarded the bread, jerky, and even some of the other food instead of sending it back. But it was too late now.

Too excited to swallow anything, I wrapped what I could into a napkin and forced myself to take a spoonful of soup here and there.

Since nobody would come again until morning, I changed into my old dress, where tucked away inside a pocket were the jewels Vandor had given me. I had been too nervous to take them out but feeling them in my hands now felt as if Vandor was with me. I hoped he would forgive me for what I would need to do, but I was sure he would. They would save mine and our son's lives.

I waited until it was completely dark and all the noises outside died down before I crept to the door. I knelt in front of the keyhole and tried to calm my frayed nerves. My fingers shook as I inserted a pen into the hole until it hit resistance. It fit. Good. I retrieved the pen and readied myself to push the piece of cloth I had ripped off a dress underneath the door when I heard footsteps.

My heart rose into my throat, and I jumped to my feet, frantically hiding the cloth and pen in one of my pockets. The footsteps stopped right in front of my door, and I stepped back, expecting the worst.

Surprised, I stared into Gordya's face. "Lady Damaris, you're up, good." Her eyes moved over my simple tattered dress, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she handed me a dark blue headscarf. The kind Thyre women wore in mourning.

Questioningly, I looked at her. She sighed. "You can hide among the baggage train, Lady Damaris, and no one will be the wiser."

"Why are you helping me?" I asked suspiciously.

"I'm a healer," she said defiantly. "I can't in good conscience be an accomplice in the murder of a young woman and her child." She shook her head. "Not even passively."

"Come morning, they will be searching for me," I cautioned.

Again, she shook her head. "I told Warlord Grobhan that you are suffering from pregnancy related ailments and that I should be the only one serving you. I will cover for your absence."

I stared at her in disbelief. "He will find out sooner or later and punish you."

She took my hand. "Then you better make sure your warlord defeats mine. Grobhan and Fionbyr will leave with the army tomorrow. They will only punish me if they return."

I squeezed her hand right back. "Thank you."

She put a pouch filled with credits into my other hand. "This should get you by."

I still had a hard time believing that she would help me and part of me feared this was a trick from Fionbyr just to torture me some more, that he would jump out at any second, punishing me for nearly escaping.

"Come, I will show you the way." Gordya pulled me down the darkened corridor where only a few gas torches were lit.

That she had come up with a similar plan to mine gave me confidence that it was a good one, but I still expected Fionbyr to appear.

Gordya stopped by a door and pulled on the headscarf I still held in my hand. "Put this on and pretend you are a widow in mourning on your way to Steppenfort. Nobody will question you traveling with the baggage train, and nobody will expect… services from you."

It was a good plan, a solid one, and even better than my original one. She watched me hide my hair underneath the scarf.

"Ready?" Gordya smiled at me encouragingly, and I nodded.

She pulled open the door but slammed it back shut.

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