"I really wish they'd give us back the sharp needles," Grimm huffed as she sat back in her chair, wood squealing in protest against her bulky frame. "I'd have an easier time punching holes in with my pinky nail."

"We've already talked about this, Grimmelda," Emme said. "The guards won't trust us with anything even remotely deemed a weapon after last time. Put it out of your mind, for all our sakes." She tugged at the end of her long, brown braid, like she always did when annoyed. "Nora's especially."

"Look what I made," Nora held up her stitching and beamed, a coil of blue and white flowers coiling around several twisting vines. Her chopped, blonde hair radiated like a halo around her head, giving an almost angelic appearance to the young woman. "They're the flowers from back home. I still remember them. See?"

"That's good," Emme smiled back.. "They look lovely."

"Check mine out!" Saga lifted her boots off the table and sat up, one hand waving a flap of cloth, the other peeling back a curtain of red curls from her eyes.

"Oh that's quite a lovely...umm." Emme chewed at her lower lip as she studied the rudimentary stitching, trying to find the exact word. So far, she was failing miserably.

"A spear! It's a spear!" Saga said.

"Right." Emme snapped her fingers. "A spear. And a lovely one at that."

Saga rolled her eyes. "Oh for Petra's sake. Rook, can you believe this shit?" She slapped Tergrid hard across the shoulder, making her jump. "Not even the mother of the tower herself could tell me what a fine spear I've woven. You're a smart girl, what with all those cunning words you know. It's clearly a spear, right?."

Tergrid glared down at Saga's hand, still resting on her shoulder. "Let go of me before I stab you."

Saga's grin became a sneer. "That's why I like you, Rook. Smart and dangerous."

"Stop calling me Rook!"

Elba crunched into cheese tart, chewed, and studied her new company. An ox, a hen, a mouse, a dog, and an angry, little girl. These five were going to be her comrades in arms, her Tribunes, as Libro liked to describe them, and help her escape the wicked clutches of the Right Hand, known by many as the most terrifying monster in all of Danic, second only to the High King himself.

No problem, Elba thought as she went back to stitching, poking her blunted needle against the cloth, and went nowhere.

She would need to convince them first, and that by far would be the hardest part of the plan. Convincing people to do something they didn't want to was her husband's speciality, not hers. She remembered trying it once, and watching her entire tribe abandon her because of it.

Elba glanced over at Tergrid, who by now was spending the majority of her time slapping away Saga's hand as she repeatedly tried to poke at her. The rebel girl would be easy to convince. Besides Elba, she was the newest addition to this twisted menagerie of motherhood, and hadn't succumbed yet to hopelessness. The others, however, would prove more difficult.

Saga was a wild card, that much was certain. She was just as likely to say yes as cut your throat out if you did so much as look at her funny, but something told Elba that if Tergrid agreed, she might tag along as well, like luring a dog with a steak.

That left the final trio. Elba couldn't get a bead on Grimmelda, shortened to Grim unless it was Emme speaking to her. She was quiet, reserved, her body raked over with old scars. She'd been a soldier once, of that Elba was certain. Women of her stature don't get those kinds of wounds from working the loom or churning butter.

Nora, however, was plain as day. She was terrified of everything and everyone, eyes constantly darting about, ears pricked for any sign of danger. She stood the complete opposite to Grim, no doubt having been one of many scared village girls abducted during a raid and unlucky enough to end up in Kel Dracon.

And through fear and duty, born from two sides of the same coin, they found themselves aligned at Emme's side. The woman was a natural born leader whether she knew it or not, a beacon for Nora to ward away the darkness, and a superior Grim could take orders from.

This, Elba thought, would be her new company. Her own personal Vangen. All she needed to do was get them on her side. Her heart fluttered for a moment. How in the seven hells was she going to do that?

"Is everything all right, Elba?" Emme asked. "You look a little pale. Do you need me to fetch you anything?"

"No!" Elba popped out of her train of thought. "No, I'm all right. Just a bit nauseous, is all."

"Did the baby kick?" Nora asked. "Oh, I can't wait until I get to feel mine." She rubbed her belly hopefully. "For a little while, at least."

"I'm fine, really," Elba pressed, mind racing on what to say next.

Come and join my little girl's club, she thought. It'll be fun.

"Come on, Emme, leave the new girl alone," Saga said. "She's probably going through the same little crisis we all had when we got here." She held her hands up in mock distress, her voice a girlish caricature of her normal, husky tone. "Oh no, the Right Hand wants to eat my baby, and now I'm trapped in here with all these crazy women. What am I to do?"

"Saga," Emme warned. "You're crossing the line again. Remember what we talked about? That words cut just as deeply as knives?"

"And I told you to shove it up your finely shaped arse, and that you weren't me farking mum!" Saga shot up to her feet, mass of red curls nearly brushing against the ceiling. "She didn't get burned at the stake trying to protect me just so you could take her farking place!"

"No one's replacing anyone," Grimm said, voice level and even. She took her time standing up, her chair squealing with joy to be released from her bulk. Somehow, she seemed even taller than Saga, towering over her as a mountain would a mole hill. "Emme didn't mean it like that."

"So you say," Saga shot back.

"Aye, I do say. So how about we all settle down and make nice for once. For the newcomer's sake." Grim waved a heavy hand over at Elba. "Doubt she needs to hear everyone's past grievances. Would make for a terrible impression, wouldn't you say?"

Saga held Grimm's gaze for a very long time, the air growing deathly silent. Elba flicked her gaze between the two women, wondering who would back down first. Both them stood still as statues, never breaking eye contact, fists bunched tight, muscles squirming.

Saga grinned then, pushing out a rough ridge of wobbly teeth. "Well shit on me then, Grimm. I'd hate to do something like that. Maybe Emme's right after all. Maybe I should put my knives away. At least, for now."

She flashed her jagged grin over at Elba and gave a choppy, little bow. "A thousand pardons, my lady, for such rude behavior displayed. A savage like me still has much to learn in this noble land."

"No offense taken," Elba mumbled

Saga eyed Grimm one last time before she sat back down, fishing up her blunted needles and starting the process over again. The cloth wouldn't budge. She would have had better luck trying to squeeze water from a stone.

"How can you all live like this?" Elba asked. The heavy silence shifted as all eyes turned towards her.

"Like what?" Emme asked, her smile never wavering.

"Like prisoners! Like slaves!"

"Elba, please keep your voice down. Your scaring the rest of the guests."

"I will not! Do you even know why you're here in the first place?"

"Elba!"

There was a bang on the door, one made by a heavy fist. "What's going on in there?" A voice as cold as ice demanded.

Elba froze, words snatched from her throat. She'd forgotten about the guards. Always lurking, always listening.

It was Saga who spoke first. She leaned back in her chair and groaned loudly, sounding like a dying boar, or a sheep in heat. "Aah! By the moons, I can feel my baby trying to kick his way out of me! He made me farking shit myself! Ah, Goddess! I need a new pair of trousers!"

There was a collective groan of disgust behind the door followed by the swift retreat from two heavy pairs of boots.

Silence for a moment, less deep, but just as drowning.

"It would be wise to keep your voice down next time," Emme said, still smiling, still calm as ever. "Our lovely bodyguards have excellent hearing, you see. They tell the witch everything they hear."

"Gives me conniptions," Nora said, shoulders bunched up to her ears. "There's barely any privacy as it is."

"And to answer your question," Emme said. "Yes, I've known for awhile why they keep us here." She rubbed at her swollen belly, a look of disgust flashing across her eyes.

"And still you've done nothing to try and stop them?" Elba stared up at Grimm, but the woman wouldn't meet her gaze. "I bet you could kill one of them if you tried."

"Not without a weapon," Grimm shrugged. "Can't kill 'em with my bare hands. And so what? We'd still be trapped in here. Only one way in, only one way out."

"Hate to say it, but the big girl's right, Rook," Saga said, placing the title on Elba now. "We've all tried to make our escape one way or another, save for you rebel girl," she paused to address Tergrid, "Oh, and the last new girl who took her own life. Hence the blunted needles and all—,"

"What Saga and Grimm are trying to say," Emme interrupted. "Is that the chances of escape are slim to none as it is. We've all made our attempts, and all the Right Hand does is reinforce the cracks we make in his defenses. Blunted needles and vigilant guard dogs are just a few of the many changes made here in the tower."

She lifted up the blunted needle. "A fox will struggle in the ivy, but only for so long. Everything gives up. Eventually."

No one said anything. Not even Tergrid. They kept their heads bowed, not looking Elba in the eye, staring at nothing, limp and listless, as if death had taken them already.

They reminded Elba of horses. When they're caught in the wild you have to reign them in before you can even hope of riding it. They're ornery bastards at best, and would rather bite you then let you onto their back. Breaking their spirit is a timely process, constantly reminding them over and over again how little control they actually have, until one day they simply give up. Then you can saddle, bridle and bit them, and ride them wherever you please.

And, in her clan's case, devour them once they'd served their purpose.

"I've got a plan," Elba said. "And unlike the rest of you, I have someone on the inside who will help us."

"Bullshit," said Grimm. "No one would ever turn their backs on the Right Hand. Not in here. It would be certain death."

"Once death becomes a preferable option, you will know no fear," Astrid said as she stepped miraculously into existence, heavy cloak wrapped about her, as if she'd materialized from mist.

Elba didn't know where she'd come from, but she had an idea. The air smelled different about ten minutes ago, around the time the arguing had started. "Astrid, you're right on schedule."

"The witch," Grimm snarled.

"Gut the bitch!" Saga bounced up to her feet, clutching her blunted needles like a pair of knives.

"Please lower your voices," Astrid demanded, her face as pale as a sheet. "I've sent the guards away to fetch us some herbs for your pains, lady Saga, and a new set of trousers, but I don't know how long it will take them. We must be quick about this."

"This?" Emme asked, taking control of the room once again. "Elba, what are you playing at?"

"I'm not playing at anything. This is no game. I knew Astrid during a different time in my life, and she owes me a favor. And now I've called in on that favor. She's going to help us escape."

"Bullshit," Grimm repeated. "She's the one who made the castle's wards in the first place. We'll be spotted by her scrying stones before we even reach the bottom of the stairs."

"Any wards can be reversed, especially if they belong to you," Astrid said.

"Then the guards will spot us, and we'll either be sent back to our rooms without supper, or shot full of arrows. Neither of which sound spectacular, in my humble opinion."

"That's why I brought this." Astrid slipped something out of her cloak, placing it in Elba's hand. It was the smooth handle of a mason's hammer, heavy stone top missing.

"I'll have to bring them to you in pieces, but I should have enough for all of you soon," Astrid continued. "I'm still looking for a way out however, and finding the right stones for the charms has proven difficult." She looked expectantly at Elba, and the others followed suit, turning their chairs one by one. Suddenly, all eyes were on her again.

"Elba," Emme asked. "What have you done?"

She smiled. "I'm getting out of here, and I would love it if you joined me. If I tell you how though, you're stuck with me to the very end." She held the handle out to Emme. "No chickening out either, and no tattling to the Right Hand. I don't need a blunted needle to cut a person's throat if I have too."

Emme stared at the handle, calculating her options, weighing the risks, all of it hidden behind a serene smile, as impenetrable as Libro's iron mask.

Without a word she reached out, taking the handle in her hands and cradling it like a child. Finally, after some time she asked, "So, what's the plan then?"

"I'll tell you," Elba said. She leaned in, and the room leaned in with her.

***