The rusted bars of the castle gate were cold in Vicki"s hands. They towered over her, solid as Gibraltar… locked. Beyond there was nothing to see. Night had fallen and country dark covered all. Vicki lay her head, her hair a confusion of dirt and blood, against the bars and closed her eyes. Vicki hoped she had a concussion. The way she felt, if it wasn"t that, it could only be something worse.
Vicki wasn"t a decision maker; never had been. Decisions brought consequences which, as a rule, she detested. Both were better left to others. How then to decide what to do with her mind scrambled like an egg?
She staggered back to a courtyard she had to have passed to reach the gate (with no memory of having done so). All she knew was her head throbbed. She felt sick and dizzy. All she could do wa
