Underestimate Me

It could not be. She was staring at him, a mirror showing his reflection. Disbelief grabbing ahold of her entire body. It could not be and she could not move. His deceit was so great, Josselyn could not move. He had put his shackles on her, binding her in the position she was in. As much iron she could encase him with, would not be enough to stop his words from stunning her. She felt as if he was the cobra, just bitten her with his venomous words. His poison was flooding her from where it entered her ears. It traveled throughout her body, paralyzing her.

“Your deceit is gruesome.” She stammered.

How could I have expected anything different, this was the man that betrayed me? This is the man that wanted me maimed and spoiled.

He was sitting there. His head hung low, too tired to speak anymore. He was not contradicting her accusation. He accepted it to be true, as did she. Somehow she found the strength to step away. Just one step taking her farther from the clear cut animal that had been in her presence for all those years. Had she not noticed the brute he had formed into. Had she not seen through his gallantries and his pursuit? Rowen had always been bestial, going after his prey with persistence and pride. Why had she been so blind of him? Why had she been so oblivious to his demonic nature? He had lured her into his bed, at such a vulnerable time. She had run from one monster, to end up giving her maidenhood to another. She had unwillingly signed her own penalty and with that, Rebecca’s too.

“Take him away,” the scream was almost like a growl from a hurting animal. She was yelping with pain and knew only to express it with her temper. She heard Aldith hurrying towards Rowen. Perhaps Josselyn's voice had made her jump. She had not seen her leader like this before; even in battle she had not been so unpredictable. The woman took Rowen by this good arm and hoisted him to his feet. He looked like he would buckle through them at first, but somehow he stretched and lifted his weight upon them. His resilience was admirable, was it not that it enraged Josselyn even more.

“Aldith,” she barked. “He is not to sleep.” The woman looked at her with uncertainty before speaking what was on her mind. “But sister... he is already ill,” she uttered.

“Enough!” Josselyn yelled. The whole camp must have heard her. “I said he will not sleep. So he will not sleep. I have lasted enough sleepless nights and survived them; I predict an incubus like him can outlast me.” Aldith did not sputter any more. She took Rowen and helped him out of the tent. In the clearing he would be bound to his pole again, awaken every few hours. His insomnia would hopefully summon his own demons to fight with. Although Josselyn wondered if it would come to a fight, or if he would greet them as old friends.

The moment he stumbled out of her tent, he glanced back at her, only just catching a glimpse of the girl he once deceived. Her knees gave out and they met the cold ground with great impact. As her body crumbled down violently, the tents cloth closed off her private area. Her knees colliding with the ground brought flashes of Hadrian through her head.

The smirk on his face. It was violent as it was disturbing. He had grown a mustache and he wore a bearskin. The man had cunning eyes and an elegance around him that did not seem to match him. The words coming from his mouth always so gallant and meticulously picked. He was a true snake, one that slithered through the streets of the village, bringing fear and bowing wherever he came. He did not wrong a single person in public, but on the council he was a strict man, punishing accused with extreme retribution.

Josselyn could not get the image of Rebecca fearfully holding his hand during the ceremon, out of her head. Her small hands in his clean and soft ones. His hands were not calloused as he did not do any work himself. He had his dogs to follow him wherever he went. Broad men. Tough men. Loyal men. She could not stop picturing the way he would push her little sister on their marital bed. The way she would be trembling under his rough touch. Rebecca would be fearful of the most beautiful act in the world. She would be scared of him and of herself for screaming. She would be scared that the blood would not come and he would accuse her of the sins her big sister had committed. Her own night, even though the beginning of her tragedy had been one without fear. She had felt passion for the worst monster, but she had not been afraid. He had been gentle with her, before slicing her open with his treachery. Josselyn had been scarred after that and it had taken a while before she was convinced of the beauty of love again. For what she had experienced was a night of lust and taking advantage. It had not been love, for she had only loved one person yet.

Josselyn had shrunken to the floor, haunted with her own thoughts and her own apparitions. Panting and hoping Aldith would not return. With great strain she pulled herself to her feet again. Her battle garment was still on her and she felt like killing. Maa was stirring inside of her after her moment of weakness, she was begging for a sacrifice.

Taking up her bow that rested in the corner of her tent she felt how its weight soothed Maa. Bow in hand and her arrows resting against her back, she stepped out of the tent. It was twilight; Rowen was bound against his pole again, his back facing her. Steady breaths made it move with cadence, his back muscles slightly dancing through his tunic. She drew an arrow on her bow and her breathing slowed down until it was almost absent. The arrow was resting against her cheek, where her hand drew back the string. She felt how the wooden part of the arrow chafed her gill.

As the darkness around her started to win in the twilight, her sisters were working for supper. Little fires were on and started illuminating in the absence of the sun. They had not seen her yet. Josselyn had sneaked out of the tent, standing just before it with an armed bow. The flaps of the tents entrance gracing the back of her legs.

Just beneath his shoulder blade. The left one. Sending an arrow just below it would pierce his heart. She could end her pain right there and then. Josselyn felt how her fingers started tingling with excitement. Her breathing so shallow. Rebecca. As soon as her sister’s name shot through her she let go of her arrow. It flew through the air, cutting it with great precision and with a shrill thump it landed next to Rowen in the ground. His body jumping up from the impact next to him. He tried turning his head to the source of the arrow, but as his back was turned to her he did not get a glance. The sisters around her looked at her with stunned faces, but none dared speaking.

Pulling the bow on her back again she looked at the forest. Her legs started to run and trampled the arrow next to Rowen, sticking out of the dried ground. Passing Rowen she looked down, his eyes met hers, but they found only Maa.

She needed some archery training, some long distant archery training. For Hadrian was still out of her reach. As her strong legs pounded the ground in her way, she could only envision one thing: the blank stare of Hadrian, with an arrow sticking out of his skull.