Underestimate Me

Even during the dark hours of early morning, the camp was awake. The camp had awoken, while Josselyn had not slept. She had been preyed upon by memories and nightmares. Unable to close her eyes she had laid eyes-open, staring into a darkness she could not escape. After Meredith had finally drifted off to sleep, and her slender fingers had stopped caressing her bare back, Josselyn had started whispering to herself.

“I am the daughter of a Goddess, who is not moved by this world. For Maa is with me and goes before me. I do not fear, for I belong to her.” It was a lullaby she had said many times before. It had started when she stood upon that cliff. As she had looked at the water streaming ferociously down the stones, splattering feet below her on rocks and water, she contemplated jumping. Maa had been there. Maa had told her to jump.

Closing her eyes fleetly, trying to get the last moments of peace, his face appeared. Laughing devilish and his eyes diabolical. Gasping she opened her eyes again.

“I truly understand what Rowen thought when he took you to his bed. Bedding a lavish wench like you, sadly you now have been reduced to nothing more than a harlot. And a harlot you will feel like, I’ll make sure of that.” His hands grabbed her hips.

Meredith moved beneath the sheets and turned over, gladly waking Josselyn from her terror. Since Rowen had appeared, she had been visited by her past while wide awake. The visions came to her unwarned and unwelcomed. Looking over at Meredith, in her peaceful sleep, Josselyn felt a pinch of jealousy at her sister. Her blond hair spread across the bed, the sheets tracing the curves of her body; she was divine. Meredith had her own ghosts, like all the sisters had. Though Meredith was sleeping now, entering a beautiful world of oblivion and pacifism. Sleep would grant Josselyn nothing less than war. She left Meredith in the bed, sprawled on her belly with her face pressed against a cushion. Meredith rested her head on her arm, that lay outstretched above her, her hip was perched up and her legs slightly intertwined. Josselyn bent over her sister and pressed a little kiss on her forehead.

“Time to get moving,” she whispered to herself and got dressed. Confining her body in the bodice and the breeches again always felt wrong when she spent a night with Meredith. Wrapping her body in fabric seemed amiss when Meredith made her feel safe in her skin again. The green tunic and the boiled armor graced her scars as she hid them well. “I am the daughter of a Goddess.” She whispered and left her tent. Meredith would wake on her own and know what had to be done. Josselyn could not bear waking her form her nothingness, for she wanted it so badly herself.

Stepping out of her tent she saw the camp was almost gone already. Sisters were packing up, dousing fires, removing all traces of their presence. Josselyn knew they had to make haste. She knew this area and she knew how long it would have taken the soldier to get home to his stone confinement. He would have reached it last night, panting and sweating. She also knew that Elrik would not stoop to ransom, driven by pride, he would march into the woods with a group of his swiftest riders, getting his son back himself. They could not stay. Even though their camp was safely hidden from sight, it was too close to the road from whence they had raided Elrik's search party. The released soldier would lead Elrik straight to it, and from then on, it was only matter of time before they were found. Moving would give them time. Time to strategize and plan their next move.

The sun was peeking through the trees when Meredith joined her. “Did you sleep at all?” She asked. Josselyn merely shook her head and a faint smile appeared on her face when Meredith’s fingers tightened around her own. “Soon you will sleep like a baby,” Meredith whispered. “So help me Maa, you will.”

Rowen was held captive against the same pole she had yanked him from before revealing herself. Though it was a rough position to be in, the rain had not returned and heat of the summer sun would soon parch the earth. He was taken care of; he had eaten and his wounds had been tended too. His back towards her tent, he had not yet seen or heard her. She was planning to keep it that way.

Aldith, another sister who had joined them a few moons ago, walked up to her. In her hands she held a great shackle, freshly forged and cooling down. Aldith had been a blacksmith's spouse. She had seen the work every day, but was banished from learning the craftsmanship like common a leper. Women were forbidden to learn crafts or gather any sorts of knowledge. It did not stop Aldith though. Meticulously she had watched her spouse. She had played her memories over and over at night when he took her and she just laid there. Thinking about forging a sword, strong enough to save her. She had practiced, secretly and alone. Until one day she was caught and she paid the price for her curiosity.It was then that she came to the sisterhood. It was then they gained their very own blacksmith.

“I finished it this night,” She said as she handed the great manacle over to her leader. She had not been forging swords this passed day. Aldith had received a new order. Forging something she had not made before, but looking at the heavy shackle that was in her hands, Josselyn knew she had succeeded. On one side of the manacle an iron chain was forged, strong and heavy. The chain was long and it was easily held.

“Put it on him.” She said. Her words were spoken softly for she did not want him to notice her appearance. She did not want him to speak his false words with his forked tongue.

Aldith went over to Rowen, who’s hanging head rose at the movement before him. Josselyn saw his shoulders and arms tense behind his back as he noticed what the manacle was for. With the limited movement he possessed, he tried avoiding Aldith's hands.

“Why this collar, I am not an animal to break.” He uttered, but his tone betrayed his strong words. He was protesting, but only his words spoke of that protest, his tone manifested defeat. Rowen had always been a smart boy, and he knew that there was no resisting now. As Aldith put the heavy iron shackle around his strong muscular neck, Josselyn turned to Meredith, to look at a better sight.

“Pack the horses, we need to make haste,” She said. Still with a hushed voice. “Let Evelyn take him. I do not want to see him. He can stumble in the middle of the column, I will be up ahead.” Before Meredith answered Josselyn moved on. She would not don her veil today, it was too hot and she anticipated no fighting.

A little while later they were completely packed. The campsite was empty and bare, no trace of their existence. Josselyn had straddled her Paloma horse and the travel began. Rowen was indeed in the middle of the column; his hands bound in front of him and around his neck a heavy manacle that bound him to Evelyn by a heavy chain. She held it loosely but firm, not pulling at him if he kept pace.

Josselyn noticed Meredith looking back at Rowen a few times, watching him stumble on. On her face Josselyn could read the thoughts that were running through her head. The coldness in her eyes was back and Josselyn was yet again reserved and stern. The masks were on, but the play was yet to start.