Underestimate Me

Rowen stood there for a moment in the small circle that surrounded him. Meredith stood within eyesight, and they all seemed to follow her threatening lead. He held his breath as he stepped toward the animal chosen for him. An ass the color of death smeared with red mud clomped its hooves against the ground as it eyed the passenger. Rowen grit his teeth and allowed two of the women he recognized from passing to help him onto the animal.

“What will you do to me next?” He muttered as he settled in his seat.

“Death, if I have anything to do with it,” Meredith retorted. A small gasp echoed from behind him, and he prayed the young girl, Emma, full of innocence, hadn’t heard her remark. He decided to keep his words to his own devices.

The crowd dispersed leaving him alone on the creature next to a woman he’d rarely seen before. She had short curly hair and deep brown eyes. Her animal was younger, and more cantankerous. It bumped into him more than once as the trek began.

Darkness filled every ounce of the vast wood. Crickets mocked the caravan moving almost silently through the trees. Only the sounds of the soft neighing horses, the screeching donkeys, and the haunting owl calls could be heard on their path. Golden orbs pierced the dark distance, but the more progress we made the more the animals drew back into their hiding spots.

“Have you slipped yet?” The woman with the short hair asked as she pulled the reigns tight. Her young animal must not be broken.

“Maybe a little,” he answered as he shifted my feet in the stirrups. “Not enough to cause alarm.”

“Once we move closer to the place where Sister Josselyn found signs of your brothers we must keep you quiet.” She was close enough to stare into Rowen’s; he could almost make out the small golden flecks in her irises.

“Who should I scream for?” I turned away from her. “My father will not tolerate my return with kindness. I imagine, my kidnapping is eating his core because he has to watch his village morn over their hero, the son that got bested and stolen by women whom he never had any regard for.”

“Do you not wish to be saved?” Her voice ebbed with curiosity. Why are these women so full of questions?

“If I can be saved by someone who cares, then I will wish for it until the end of my days.” Rowen found himself thinking of his family again. His father never seemed so bad before his mother’s death. Something changed Elrik, and he would not tolerate mistakes.

Ruth turned her gaze back to the path we journeyed on, but Rowen had his own haunting thoughts. He had bothersome questions he could no longer contain. “Why does your leader cut her hair over the dead?”

“What?” Her brow furrowed. “Why do you ask?”

“I saw her slice her hair over my friend’s body. Tell me what does it mean?” Rowen could still see her dark hair falling over the fire which burned Kolby’s corpse. She had the nerve to kill him and then burn a piece of herself with his remains. The thought of her finding some evil pleasure out of the moment twisted his stomach into knots.

“We all do that,” Ruth informed him. “When a close sister dies we lose an inch off our hair and sometimes shed a tear.”

“Why?” Rowen shared his one-worded thought aloud though it had many meanings. Why would Josselyn shed her hair for Kolby? Yes, they knew each other; but he thought they were only friends because he introduced them. Why did she consider Kolby close? Why did she care?

“Respect, I suppose.” Ruth nodded with her answer, or maybe her head bobbed with the movement of her animal. Rowen couldn’t be sure. “We all have different reasons. I found out my mother passed a few months ago, one inch did not seem appropriate respect for her loss.” She motioned to her short hair. He nodded in response, though she probably thought his head dangled with the movement of the old creature carrying him too.

Ruth motioned for his silence just as they passed a thick group of trees. Rowen wondered if his father’s soldiers had fires lit near their beds or if they still tried to track Kolby’s movements. For their sake he hoped they let his friend’s disappearance from their party go unnoticed, but he doubted that.

He turned to watch the path for a moment but his eyes strayed back to the short haired sister half struggling with her unbroken donkey. How did this woman who seemed to calm the rambunctious animals’ natures end up in a group like this? Her eyes held pain just like the rest of them, but her personality was so pleasant.

Rowen opened his mouth to ask the new question pestering his mind, but the words fell short of his lips. Her story was just that, hers. How could he dare to intrude on such a personal matter? His eyes roamed through the women in front of him to the women he could see over his shoulder. None of them seemed to mind picking up in the middle of the night and traveling through a dangerous forest.

Could their lives have been so bad that they dare not face another man?

He couldn’t help but to wonder how much of Josselyn’s story she heard. Maybe every one of these women heard her horror story, her lies? That must be the reason they mimic Meredith’s threatening actions?

I am not the monster.

She is not the monster either.