Page 15 of Castle of Refuge

A shot of panic went through her. She sat up and saw another man reaching toward her horse’s bridle. Heat rose up to her face and sent her straight to her feet. How dare they touch her things?

“Get away! What are you doing?”

The men stopped and narrowed their eyes at her.

Her heart quivered, but she was too angry to be prudent. “That is my horse! And that is my bag!”

The man who was pawing through her bag frowned. The other one grinned and pulled on her horse’s bridle.

“We’ll be taking them,” the frowning one said.

The other man swung up onto her horse. Poor Blackie. She’dhad that gelding since she was very young. And now he was being ridden by a wicked man. The other man started running behind him, and in moments they were out of sight.

Audrey’s heart pounded so hard she had to sit down.O God, why did You let them take my horse?

She felt sick as she put her head in her hands. The vision of the two men leaving, one on Blackie and the other on foot, replayed in her mind.

At least she still had her clothing.

She crawled on her hands and knees to her bag. She rummaged around inside, trying to feel for the pouch of coins, but when she didn’t find it, she pulled all the clothing out, one piece at a time. The pouch of silver coins was not there.

What would she do now?

She sat back on her heels and looked up at the fluttering leaves overhead. The slight breeze created a peaceful sound, and a bird twittered and chirped nearby.

The world seemed completely indifferent to her trouble, and she was alone.

I will never leave you nor forsake you.The words from her Psalter burst upon her mind. God would not leave her, but would He feed her?

She had not brought food with her, and she’d thought the coins would buy her anything she needed. But now she had nothing of value, except her clothing, to trade for food. And she had no horse. Now she’d have to walk.

What if those men had decided to harm her? She had no weapon, nothing to fight them off. The looks on their faces toldher they were capable of quite a lot of evil. And they could change their minds and come back to harm her.

Her hands trembled as she grabbed her bag and stood to her feet. She started walking along the edge of the road. Her stomach twisted at the thought of the men mistreating her precious Blackie. As she walked, she felt a bit weak in the knees from lack of food. If only she had put her coins on her person, in a pocket, or tied to a belt around her waist. But then the men might have searched her. They still would have found the money, and she would have had to endure them putting hands on her.

Horrible men. Audrey wanted to call down a curse on them, but she didn’t even know how one did such a thing. There was something in the Psalms about David asking God to smite his enemies. But what good would that do? Jesus taught forgiveness, after all. So she whispered, “God, help me forgive them. But most of all... help me. Send someone to help me, for I do not know where I am going or how I will get there.”

She kept walking, listening for any indication that someone was coming for her—either the men who had taken her money and her horse, or her father’s men come to drag her back home.

Soon she came to a crossroads. Not knowing which way to go, she closed her eyes and whispered, “Show me which way,” and when she opened her eyes, she felt a tug inside her to take the road to the right.

Now that the sun was high overhead, she was beginning to feel dizzy from hunger. She was nearing a village, and she needed food. But how would she procure it?

She pulled out one of her dresses, a fine linen one that wassoft and had pretty embroidery around the neckline, sleeves, and hemline. It was one of her favorites, but she’d be very happy if someone would give her food in exchange for it.

She entered the village and smelled the smith’s fire and heating metal, heard his hammer beating the steel into a horseshoe or a plow blade. People walked around, moving from place to place, purpose in their steps.

Next she smelled the alewife’s wares—the pungent scent of the fermented drink—and hurried past it, lest the drinking men sitting outside the establishment should notice her and call out to her.

The smell of ale did not tempt her at all. She’d never liked the taste of it. But when she caught a whiff of the baker’s shop, she was drawn down the street after the beckoning smell of baking bread.

Audrey went to the door. Two women were inside buying bread from the woman behind the wooden plank that served as a counter. Audrey waited outside. Could she truly offer this baker her dress in exchange for some bread? But her stomach cramped painfully just at that moment. Yes, she could do it.

The two women left the shop, staring hard at Audrey as they went, as if they rarely saw strangers in their village. But then Audrey realized her hair had gotten pushed behind her left ear and they were staring at her scars.

She quickly pulled her hair forward to cover them. Her heart was pounding. She tried to take a deep breath but her chest was too tight to let it in. She should hurry, before someone else came and she had an audience for this interaction.

Audrey went into the shop and the shopkeeper turned to her. She gave her a curious look but didn’t say anything.