Underestimate Me

Josselyn was still holding Meredith’s arms, afraid that if she let go, her beloved would kill Rowen and spare them the trip. She would undo all that Josselyn had been protecting. Meredith was shuddering from anger and however the foul words coming out of Rowen’s mouth, Josselyn was surprisingly at ease. She picked up the prey that her sister had dropped and handed it over to Meredith.

“You might want to start skinning these,” She said, her voice of a leader, but there was a tinge of warmth, more pleading than ordering. “I will see you in a short moment.”

Maa had travelled the grass; she had drifted from the housing in the trees to her feet and was infiltrating her. Josselyn had withstood it while she had inspected Rowen’s scars, for she did not want to make them even worse. Now that Meredith reluctantly made her way to one of the fire pits she released her defenses and felt how she filled.

She turned once again to Rowen. His hands still bound to the pole and his torso still bare. His vulnerability intrigued Maa. She knew something Josselyn did not. She knew of Rowen’s acts, all of them. The good and the bad. She had kept him alive, he would be granted a purpose. He would play part of her plan, not just be another dead man staring up to the sky. She knew something Josselyn did not. For she could read his heart.

Josselyn circled Rowen. Laila was done but she had beckoned the girl to get another tunic. The one he was wearing was reduced to mere treads held together. Not much of it was left after the battle and the scaving against the pole. As she made circles around his body, once in a circle meeting his face, Josselyn started to talk.

“You can call me a demon. Maybe you are even right.” She started. Josselyn watched his body, turning towards her voice. He could only follow her path by ear and he did not like his susceptibility.

”And you speak of me dying. Your symbolism is endearing, but not necessary.” She passed his face and saw him looking up with morbid curiosity. “I truly died and yes, I was reborn cruel.” She was referring to Maa who lived in her and was moving her feet that very moment.

She closed in on Rowen’s back and traced his scars with a hovering finger, painting the stripes in the air above him. His body writhed, knowing she was so close to his past. So close to his scars. Marks Josselyn guessed to be only his to see. She did not prance her scars around and somehow she felt her prisoner did not either. She moved her lips to his ears, letting her breath beat on his skin as they had done to her so many times: “My sisters needed a monster, so I became one.”

Josselyn left Rowen with his thoughts before he could react to her. She moved through the encampment. Sisters were busy with chores and duties. Some had gotten water from the waterfall outside and were cleaning their garments. Other sisters were skinning the prices of hunt and among them she found Meredith. Her hands were bloodied up till her elbows. Even with the gruesome blood upon her, a spot on her forehead where she had brushed away her hair, she was radiant. Her fast fingers were ripping the skin of the rabbit and it was evident who she thought of while tearing at the skin.

Josselyn sat down across from her in silence and grabbed one of the rabbits still furred. She broke its neck completely and grabbed the little animal by its knee. She pushed the joint until the hide separated from the meat. As in trance she continued. First skinning the legs and moving up its body. She had cleaned rabbit so many times now; she could do it with her eyes closed. Her eyes, however, were on Meredith.

“I cannot kill him, not until we know what we are doing,” She said to Meredith. Her second in command looked up and divided her attention to the sisters around them.

“Please grant us some privy to discuss,” She said to them, they stood and without a word left the two. Meredith turned to her again. The ice in her eyes was moist. She still looked so worried and all Josselyn wanted was to see that other look in her eyes again. She wanted to see those eyes that looked at her with content and love. She wanted Meredith to look at her like she had looked at her that night. She already longed for the ecstatic oblivion again.

“When will we know what we are doing? Will Maa come to you in a dream? Will she even grant a split of knowledge about what she is using you for?” Her words were bitter, but Josselyn understood their origin. Meredith did not feel the way Maa moved. She could only believe. Her second in command did not feel how the spirit filled her leader up and took control.

“You know what she is using me for.” Josselyn whispered. She reached out and softly grabbed the bloody hand of Meredith. The rabbit blood upon her own fingers mixed with that upon hers. The grasp was slippery, but she held on. “She is using me. She is using us, for justice.”

“So we are moving him to Gregory?” Meredith whispered. Josselyn nodded.

“Yes we are. If he dies from this fever, we have a head on war and I lose my revenge. Gregory the Mender is our only hope. I’ve sent word of our arrival. Falcon was ready.”

“But are you?”



“We are almost there,” The blonde girl kept saying, although the same words had escaped her lips what seemed hours ago. Darkness was falling and she was struggling over the rough terrain. She thought she was moving fast, but the girl kept standing still to wait for her. Agony haunted her with every step. She felt how the edges of her wounds would break apart with every wrong move she made. She felt how the oozing wound dripped yellow substance along her body, her back and her hip now drenched in it.

“Where are you taking me?” Josselyn whispered. She could not talk, her throat still raw form her screams. Only one moon had passed since she walked around the village with no worry in her mind. Only one moon had changed her life completely.

The trees around her seemed blurry and some even seemed to move. Their colors were weird and beady eyes were watching her every move. She felt so hot. She was burning up. While drops of sweat covered her face, she shuddered. It was cold. She was so cold.

“Come on, tough girl,” the icy woman said to her. “You need to make it.”

“But where are we going?” Josselyn whispered, her voice sounded distant, as if they did not leave her own mouth but the words were spoken by another. The world around her was getting darker and her feet did not listen anymore. She felt how the cold ground greeted her and how the world around her collapsed.

Or had she?

Josselyn woke herself from her memoir as she heard Meredith yank at Rowen’s collar. They had left the horses with Ruth, but while passing her given her one of their rabbits. The woman seemed content in her little hide away with her flock. She had been carving wood when they passed her, her knife sending little scrapings of wood towards the fire she sat beside. Ruth had thanked them for the provision and given them some herbs she had found in the woods. The woman was nothing if not caring.

Josselyn had noticed the way she looked at Rowen. The same trouble in her eyes as she had seen with more than one other sister. What was it that he inspired in them? Was it merely his physique that conjured the pity of her sisters; however, they all had killed pretty men? Enough men not to pity the dead. Was it his charisma that somehow still magically influenced women who were in his presence, or was it her? Was she seeing ghosts that were not there?

She turned towards the road in front of them. Their path was hard and it would be dangerous. She prayed to endless amounts for a better journey than the last time she traveled these footsteps.

Glancing back at Meredith and catching her eye, she saw that Meredith prayed for it too.