Consciousness returned slowly, accompanied by a dizzying pain throbbing somewhere near the front of her head.  Through the pain, she noticed that she was moving up and down in a slightly erratic and oddly-familiar fashion, much like riding a chariot over a roughly undulating field. She also noticed that she seemed to be hanging upside down from the waist. Senses followed slowly – she became aware of the reek of blood and sweat, and also, which she found somewhat comforting, the smell of her own mount. She could hear at least two other mounts in addition to hers; it was possible there were more. Sight would have to go partially unsatisfied, she decided – it was probably best that they continue to think her unconscious for the moment, though she could not resist a very discreet look out of the corner of one eye. She was hanging doubled over, draped rather unceremoniously across her mount’s back. They had bound her hands and feet together by a short strap, just enough to keep her from sliding off, she thought. Finally, to complete the sensory ensemble, the metallic taste of blood crept in from the corner of her mouth, running down from the wound that was pounding in her head.

                For the moment, she remained unmoving with eyes closed while she tried to think…

…First she thought about how she got here: She had set up camp in the oasis, eating the dates she picked from the trees that grew around it’s edges. She even got lucky – in the shade of one of the larger date trees had been a peach tree. She picked a few of those to take with her for the next part of her journey. She drank and washed the sand from her throat, giving thanks to the welcome and life-giving spring that stood in obdurate defiance of the desert’s scorching heat. Fed and washed, she unrolled the soft skin that served both as shade and blanket, depending on the circumstances.

They had come upon her during the night. She had not even heard them; such was the depth to which she had succumb to the Lord of Dreams’ velvet whispers. They had grabbed her while one of them covered her nose and mouth with a foul-smelling cloth whose redolence was, mercifully, she mused later, almost covered by a thick odor that reminded her of pitch oil and pomegranates. They lifted her while the narcotic darkness begun to close in. A well-placed kick had freed a leg from one of her assailants; the resulting imbalance allowed her to shift herself enough to turn and bite the wrist to her right. When the blood began to flow, the man released his hold upon her. After that, gravity and a kick to the man that held her other leg had sufficiently freed her enough to where she, for the next couple of seconds at least, now only faced the man that held her left arm.

Instinctively she reached for the dagger she kept at her belt, but it was not there. She tried to pull away from him, but this one was both taller than her and weighed much more. He yanked her roughly back towards him, so she turned and moved with it, bringing her knee up towards that spot that – thanks to growing up with brothers – she knew that men were vulnerable.

She never saw whether or not her strategically placed strike made contact, for, at that moment, stars exploded before her eyes as the pommel of a dagger – her dagger, in fact – came crashing down upon her forehead. The beautiful, bright coruscation was all to brief however, as darkness quickly engulfed her.

                Thinking about it, even while being bound and kidnapped in the nighttime desert going to The-Djinn-Know-Where, she cannot remember if her knee made contact with her large abductor or not. Though not really pertinent to her present predicament, she still found that not knowing was really annoying to her.  It also occurred to her that she had never heard any of them speak; or, for that matter, utter a word or sound of any kind during this entire night.

Enough of that – now it’s time to decide what to do, she mentally chided herself.

Her earlier visual surveillance had shown her that they had only loosely bound her, either confident in the effectiveness of the pungent drug or in their ability to prevent her escape. Neither option, of course, precluded a short journey to an unfriendly camp, possibly populated with more men. Discreetly testing her bonds, she discovered that, were she careful enough, she could probably remove them from her wrists.  Even if she did manage to free herself from her bonds, escape would still be difficult. It was likely that her mount was not sufficiently faster than her kidnapper’s mounts to allow escape, not to mention that there was no place in the desert where one could hide.

                That ruled out flight.

                Since direct flight was out of the question, perhaps another strategy was needed. If she could bring them closer to her, there was a chance – albeit small – that she could do something. She did not know exactly what, but Fortune smiles on those who attempt to make their own. 

If she were unlucky she would lose, and she knew that losing would not be pleasant. She was confident they would keep her alive and relatively unharmed – after all, they had not yet killed her (or worse) -  but she guessed that that would not prevent them from making her regret any attempts to break free. If she was lucky, however, she could surprise them just enough to get an upper hand, perhaps hurting them sufficiently to get away. But, as there were four of them, she would have to be fast, and she would have to make each strike count. She was, after all, trained in the weaponless defense that was taught to every woman; because though weapons were exclusively for the men, there were, in rare cases, exceptions.

She was one of those exceptions.

She did not know where they were taking her – and the longer their journey continued, the more convinced of that she became, but she knew that she could not let them get to where they were going, at least not without a fight. Unarmed, the odds - even with luck - were not in her favor, but going down fighting was better than any alternatives currently running through her mind.

She waited.

- Liber Incognito