Page 4 of Once Upon a Midnight Dream

I have been beaten.

Peculiar, he remembered being pummeled, but not who had thrashed him or where the pounding had occurred. For that matter, what he could recall about anything would scarcely fill a thimble.

His memory was as empty as his hollow stomach gnawing at his spine.

To still the panic rearing its gargoyle head at that horrific revelation, he focused on the familiar, comforting scent that had stirred him from sleep.

Yes, definitely lavender.

Still groggy, and with his eyes closed, he sniffed.

Hmm.

A slightly earthy scent also lingered, as did a pungent, medicinal aroma with a hint of sweetness and spice.

Poultices, salves, or tinctures?

To treat his injuries?

Bloody irregular.

What went on here?

Senses not yet fully attune, eyelids weighted closed, and limbs leaden, he inhaled deeply.

Other, lighter, more pleasing aromas teased his nose.

He sniffed again.

Lemon? Wildflowers? Sunshine?

Sunshine?

What the devil?

Have I gone mad?

Where the sodding blazes am I?

He vaguely recalled running, gasping for air—pain riddling his body and head—and finally collapsing in a meadow after escaping.

Wait…

An imprecise image flitted across his beleaguered mind and then floated away before he could grasp hold and bring it into full focus.

An impression remained, nonetheless.

Someone had abducted him.

But who?

Why?

Again, he could vaguely recall the event, but not the details surrounding the incident.

With considerable effort, he fought the cumbersome cobwebs and wet wool besieging his mind, and mustering every ounce of determination he possessed, he groped his way to full wakefulness.

Wrinkling his nose again and drawing in a deep breath, while simultaneously creasing his forehead, he forced the millstones from his eyelids.