Dalliance

Chapter Thirty Seven

As night approached, Dawson and Holly found themselves in a rather precarious situation; they were prisoners of the lands folk. The very people that have terrified people for generations with their tales of beheading and torture for any who cross their paths. They spoke a language that neither captive had ever heard before, and their actions appeared to be fueled by their ways-but they had not seemed as hostile or cruel as legend spoke of them.

"What is your name?" A man asked as he walked around a large fire that was set in front of Dawson and Holly. His gaze froze to Dawson as he analyzed his clothes and his men searched his satchel to find the map, herbs, and fruit. The man who stood before them wore dark clay around his eyes to give him the resemblance of a racoon. The same clay was on the tips of his fingers and as he spoke, it was incredible catch of the eye. He also had lines upon his chest that looked like vines with words in their language over his heart and along his veins. The leader also had many scars that appeared to be long healed, but not forgotten. Before answering his question, Dawson spotted a dagger at the man's side and became fearful for Holly's life.

"Dawson."

"And yours?" His voice was now more calm as he moved towards Holly.

"Holly."

"What had you traveling through these parts?" As he spoke, he gave whoever he was speaking to,a deep glare as it was obvious that he was analyzing them. He was incredibly intimidating due to his intense eye contact.

"We were running from the King."

"Deserters?" He asked quickly towards Dawson.

"No."

"I am the Queen." Suddenly spears were pointed towards them as Dawson attempted to break his restraints. "My friend and I have traveled from that horrid place in seek of a new life-of asylum."

"Have you been followed?"

"No." Dawson said with an immense arrogance that forced Holly to further an explanation; "No, we left on horseback while everyone had been engrossed in their rituals of dinner and conversation."

"You travel with no weapons?"

"I felt as though there was no need...we did not believe any danger but the elements that would face us."

"I see." He nodded his head to two of his men who had different colors of clay on their eyes- one blue and one red. They also had the clay on different parts of their bodies-one on the wrist, and the other on the forearm-wrapped around like a band. The twain men had cut Holly down as she was taken towards the side of the fire.

"Raven." He said as he extended his hand and gave her a polite bow. "I can see by the way you carry yourself that you do not believe in the extent of those who carry your royal position."

"I loathe their decisions...but I cannot do anything as I am only a prize to everyone."

"Not everyone." He spoke as his gaze fell to Dawson. "But I can sense there is tension between you two...I can also tell it weighs heavy on you both..."

"There has been much deception and speculation between us. We did it for our love for one another, but mine had been on a more hurtful origin..."

"Anything worth fighting for is never easy, Holly. I am inviting you to dine with us.."

"And Dawson?"

"Men handle situations with hostility and anger...women are able to be spoken to...I believe we can assist one another." Their voices faded as she moved into a tent and was followed by several of his men. Dawson lingered beside the fire, tearing at the binds of his hands. Upon doing so, a voice nearly startled him.

"It is no use." The man stood beside him-resembling the same clay makeup but full straight arctic hair that went a few inches shorter than Holly's.

"I cannot linger here..."

"I understand...here..." The man offered him a drink from a cup as Dawson had not realized how dehydrated he was becoming. Accepting it without a second thought, he let out a groan upon finishing its contents.

"Thank you."

"You do not remember me, do you?"

"I apologize..." Dawson glared towards him, trying to place him.

"The sixth king had burned our village to nothing but ashes and charred broken hearts. You came with your knights and you had been the only one to help us find fresh water. Because of that, you had saved my village."

"I am glad to hear it."

"But you have an anger in your eyes-it is why Raven did not allow you free. He fears that you will misplace your anger onto us."

"You tore me from the woods and tied Holly and I to boards...the legends of your people are not kind...they are terrifying actually..."

"I have heard them. They are not true if it allows you some peace."

"Not in the slightest." Silence then filled them as the man went to walk away. Dawson's curiosity then became the best of him.

"What are the markings?"

"They tell others where we rank with Raven. It is a brutal initiation." He moved forward and held out his arm where his mark had been on the tips of his fingers. "When you are born into our kind, you are branded with a mark." He lifted up his shirt to reveal his shoulder. A thin line with an arrow pointing towards his hand was prominent. "It is seen as the beginning of our lifeline. If we do anything to dishonor our kind, we are then burned and these marks are to be shown to anyone we see. The clay is placed when we become of age to fight. We are trained in the art of spirit and protection. Some reject this and become crafters...the clay represents a fine line of trust. If you embarrass our kind or do anything to smear the name of us, wherever the line is on your body at the time, it will be cut from there."

Dawson's eyes went wide. "It is savage and archaic."

"It is the way of our people. We are not bound by blood, but by pride. We cherish our name and reputation well." He continued. "If we pass our tests in life, the clay line is moved until it reaches the tips of our fingers-this means, we have shown loyalty, strength, clarity, and workmanship in all areas required to be respected."

"The legends of you...how did they come about then?"

"Our kind are not open to outsiders. We have yet to encounter any with kind morals-but Raven sees that in your friend. He is offering her a deal-"

"What kind of deal?"

"If she does what he asks, then he will supply you both with whatever you need for your journey; food, weapons, allies, shelter-whatever you desire."

"What is he asking of her?"

"An assassination."