Underestimate Me

All around her, women were making haste. The encampment was packed up and ready to move in less than hours, as the darkness got whole. Horses were saddled and reined in, their low neighing filling the camp. Josselyn was packing up her weaponry. A bow already hung from her back and her knives were secured to her thigh and hips, a little one still hiding in her boots. They needed to hurry. As she looked around she wondered. Would this be their future? Would this be their lives? Running when evil was getting too close? Packing up their belongings and trying to find another home? Her sisters knew how to stand up for their beliefs, they knew how to fight. Yet Josselyn did not want them to face their demons head on. The raids and ambushes they had planned were tot their advantage. The rebels had caught their hellions by surprise, unable to even think what was happening before their throats were slit. This time, the tables were turned.

An eerie feeling crept over her as she watched the border of the encampment. Every time she diverted her attention away from the outstretching arms of the vegetation, the leaves appeared to move. Snapping her head back to the greenery, they seemed to laugh at her, hanging silently from the branches. The knowledge that Kolby’s brothers would have noticed his absence and were doubtlessly combing the forest for him, pushed all the air out of her. They were the ones to be ambushed and caught by surprise at any moment and Josselyn did not like it one bit.

“Josselyn?” she was drawn out of her worried state of mind and turned her head, finding one of her sisters. The woman looked at her with a questioning look. Had her sister called on her more than once? Had her concern for attackers influenced her awareness? Swiftly she put away her sword in its scabbard and turned away from the mocking weeds.

“Excuse my absence.” she mumbled. “What is it, Ruth?” She looked at her sister. The woman had been tending the horses and donkeys ever since she joined their rebellion. Somehow the animals were calm around her, even in moments of angst or terror, she could keep them hushed. Summer storms and lighting that had once drove their horses to run into the woods, were now occurrences they endured with minor anxiety. As Josselyn observed the woman’s face she understood. The kindness in her sister’s appearance radiated off of her and Josselyn had forgotten about the threat hiding between the leaves all together.

“The prisoner...” She started, glancing back at the pole that was not yet removed from the ground and the figure still bound against it. “He will not make as much progress in his state.”

Josselyn followed Ruth’s glance and saw how Rowen was slumped against the pole. He did not look like he could travel by foot. His skin was pale; the surface of it that surrounded his dark eyes was red. Even from the distance they were standing she could see the little beads of sweat on his brow and the soft twitching of his hands.

“Do you have a donkey to spare?” Josselyn inquired. Ruth slowly nodded her head and told her that one of their young donkeys had just come of age to start carrying heavy loads. She told her leader that she could ride that one and Rowen could find a secure seat on an older of the flock.

Together they walked up to the slumped man, he looked broken, and he looked beat.

“Get him on that donkey,” Josselyn ordered. Most of her sisters had already straddled their horses and they were ready to go. The darkness surrounded them and made them nothing less than terrifying shadows. She veiled herself and felt the cold of the night being dispersed from her nose and mouth. As the summer days were warm, the summer nights could be devastatingly cold. “And give him something to wear.” she added.

She was already halfway back across the clearing when she heard the words coming out of Rowen’s mouth. His voice weaker than she remembered but his words still full of strength. He was not broken yet, he was not as beat as he looked.

“I’d rather walk than ride upon such filthy animal,” The sisters were already surrounding him, towering over him upon their horses. As Josselyn turned she saw the fair hair of her second in command, closest to Rowen. Trying to see her face through the darkness was futile, but Josselyn knew the look that would be on it. For a moment she feared one of her sisters would take a shot at him, trying to shut him up. Before that could happen, she spoke: “Believe me when I say; I would spare the animal from the beast, if I did not think it would slow us down.” With those words she grabbed the saddle of her mare and pulled herself up.

As the women surrounded their horses around hers, she thought of Rowen’s words. You use the women as shields She shook her head. As if he was standing right before her. She did not use the women as her shield; she tried her hardest to be the shield that surrounded them. She had done nothing if not protect her family. The ache in her hip was telling her every move the horse made between her legs. She had not properly cared for it since the battle. She had cleaned it once, but had been so busy with protecting her pack of rebels that the pain had been pushed to the background. It had become a matter for later days. For days they could call themselves safe. Though somewhere in Josselyn’s mind she knew a day like such would perhaps not come. Or at least she would not be the one to witness it. So much sacrifice will need to be made in order to realise it. Offers she was not yet prepared to make. A reluctance that resulted in Rowen’s life. He was alive because she was a shield. He was alive because his faith was so tangled with her sisters, she dare not kill him.

Meredith was riding next to her, the darkness obscuring their path and the owls sounding their song. Meredith was silent, but she could still feel the discontent transmitting from her. What had bothered her this time, Josselyn could not deduct.

“What is it sister,” She whispered, steering her horse as close to Meredith’s that their knees touched. They bounced against each other and the upward movement made Josselyn gasp. Her hip was not yet healed and had started bothering her again. Meredith had her head turned to her; despite darkness they were close enough for Josselyn to see that worrisome look in her sister’s eyes. Her face was painted in various shades of blue darkness; the hues did justice to her notorious frosty demeanor.

“Those gasps of yours and that wound on your shoulder.” Meredith whispered. “It bothers me to see that a prisoner in our midst gets better medical attention than our leader.”

“Meredith…” Josselyn started, but she knew she could not waver her second in command to think differently. Perhaps she was right. Josselyn had been so focused on her family that she had forgotten to take care of herself. Perhaps she had allowed Rowen to poison her mind, telling her she was using her sisters, while all that time, she was letting herself be used by him.

“When we settle, I will tend to those wounds.” The words Meredith spoke did not tolerate a refusal. Her second in command was cleaning her lacerations, if she wanted it to happen or not. Josselyn sighted. The thought of their next encampment made her weary. She knew where they should settle again, but she wondered how long they would be able to stay there. As a feeling of uneasiness clouded her mind she tried to focus on her sister. Watching her as she softly moved with the steps of her horse. Meredith’s lean fingers were gently holding the reins, not pulling but in control. Maybe that female touch was all she needed.

Maybe Meredith’s touch was all she needed.