A Splatter of Other #Wattys2015

XXII

It's clear that they love their leader's son, but I didn't anticipate the excitement that followed when I stepped out from behind him. It must be because I finally look like them, why else would they scream the name of an Outsider so enthusiastically? I smile, tentatively at first, but when this seems to excite them further, I throw out a dazzling beam that sends them into a frenzy.

"Why are they so excited to see me?" I laugh, waving at a group of young girls that look like they're about to pass out.

"You are my wife, you will rule by my side when I become leader," his eyes twinkle as he regards me, wrapping an arm around my waist, "and they've heard how badass you are." He captures my laugh in a possessive kiss that turns my face bright red and sends the Tribe into premature heart failure. Then, they start the chant that happened at the wedding, but it seemed so much louder."

"Hoo-Hah! Hoo-Hah! Hoo-Hah!" They'd thump their chests on Hoo, and raise a closed fist on Hah, and it sent a chill through me. The hairs on my arms rose, I felt electrified, and it was such a wondrous, empowering feeling. These were my people, mine, and I would do anything to ensure their safety. I finally understood just how Archer has always felt, looking down at them, talking to them, eating with them. Each meal was a triumph, a success, knowing they were fed for another day. Each warrior that returned another victory, knowing he'd protected them. It felt good, it felt right. He kisses me again, before holding his arms out for silence.

"We all know why we are here, on this sixth day," he begins in English, obviously for my benefit. "We have been dealt a great injustice just this week gone. Three of our own drugged and attacked another, unprovoked. Attacked one of our own, one of mine!" He growls the last word, and hisses rise from those listening, "My wife was outnumbered, and had it not been for the Berserk coursing through her blood, she could very well have been killed," he seems, impossibly, to fix each person with an individual glare before continuing. "But she was not, you have all seen the damage to these three inflicted in self-defence," a murmur of crowd approval, "my woman is not weak. Just because she did not grow up with the Tribes, does not mean she is not one of us, I have claimed her and therefore my word is law! Because of this great injustice, the guilty party will fight, without weapons, until we decide if they are to be forgiven! And if not," he shrugs, "at least there will be plenty of bloodshed to dampen our affront at this offense." The people cheer in delight, which quickly turns to snarls and hisses of outrage as the three are dragged in and thrown at our feet. They all bow their heads, shoulders slumped. "Erin, Brenna...Margaret," they each flinch as he purrs their names, raising their bruised and swollen faces the platform. "You know why you are here, the Tribe knows why you are hear. Without any more pretence, you will be fighting with only your bare hands as weapons," their faces fall in dismay, "and you will not stop until Franceska says so," his smile is cold and cruel, "if she wants you to kill each other, then that is exactly what you will do." He steps back, leaving me in front alone. But, I'm not alone, I am surrounded by people who will fight for me, kill for me, and I can feel Archer's warm presence behind me.

Everything is quiet as the three are pulled to their starting point, and all wait expectantly for me to begin. Margaret is the closest, her face is a mess of black, purple and yellow bruising, her nose is crooked and her lip is split and bloody. Tears are squeezing themselves out of her eyes, and even from here I can see the pleading desperation in her eyes. But I won't forgive and forget, not that easily, not when I was willing to put everything behind us and start over. So with deliberate slowness, I raise my hands, and keeping eye contact, clap my hands together sharply, the sound echoing around the silent cavern. Not one person makes a noise as they women begin, the stand silent, unsupportive of their brethren.