The north wall caved in and a beam of sunlight illuminated the dust motes that had been disturbed by the falling stone. Amelia stood a few feet away, not wishing her toes to be accidentally crushed by whoever it was outside.
“Well, that was surprisingly easy,” came a joyous tone from the other side of the hall. She heard armor creak as a number of people moved around the base of the tower. “Quickly, men! Pull these stones away!”
After a year of waiting, of probing the tower’s every stone, of exploring every possible weakness for a way out, she could wait a few moments more. Bit by bit, hands reached in and widened the hole until it grew to the size of a man. She credited the builders with the quality of their craftsmanship; with more shoddy workmanship, the entire structure may have collapsed after its base was damaged.
When the hole was the size of a man, the gleaming spectacle of an armored knight bent to step through. Lifting his helmeted head, he pulled back slightly at seeing her standing right there. “Lady Amelia Rothburg, I presume?”
“Two more days and I would have to walk home.” She stepped up and clapped him on the shoulder. As the sound rang through the chamber, she pushed past him and stepped out into the fresh air. A small contingent of six other knights stared as she relished in her first moments of freedom, a giddy laugh bubbling up from inside her.
As much as she wanted to stand and enjoy everything, she could not forget her responsibilities. Her husband had to know she was still alive, had to know who it was that had taken her, and she hoped none of the damage done in her absence was irreparable. Looking toward one of the knights she pointed away from the tower and asked, “Is Fellbridge that way?”
“Y-yes, my Lady.”
Seven horses stood nearby and she quickly chose one that looked the most well-rested. Jumping into the saddle – ignoring how her skirts rose to her knees – she called back to the men, “Then you’ll know where to find me!”