“Micheal, wake up,” my voice was softly. My hand was bloody and I looked upset.
When Micheal’s eyes opened and he saw me, he grabbed my arm roughly and looked over me. “What happened?!”
My eyes began to tear up and I whimpered. “Mayhem died.”
Micheal wrapped his arms around me and held me against his chest. “I’m sorry. I should have heard those rebels.” It was obvious that he felt guilty for what had happened. He embraced me against his bare chest. He was warm and my lips curled into a content smile.
My tears still stained my cheeks, but I was feeling better. I wouldn’t be able to get over that. Micheal was supposed to kill Mayhem, since it was his horse, but Micheal was manned and he couldn’t get out of bed. But, once I had given Micheal poppy, which was a sort of pain medication for the Northern people, he was fine. I knew he was still hurting though. I could see it in his aged face. This journey aged us all.
For the rest of the afternoon, after Micheal wiped the blood off of me, we laid together. Micheal knew I was destroyed about killing the horse. His hands rested against the small of my back. His hand was warm, the tent was warm.
I was content; the air around us was full of warmth. I knew what I did was needed to be done. We could not have a lame horse slowing up the people. We have somewhere to be and the snow was already slowing us down.
Anna entered out tent, quietly, looking at me with a small frown. “We have a problem.”
I sat up, before Micheal could move and took charge. “What’s wrong?”
“Some of the men are rioting, in the middle of camp. They think since Micheal got injured and they haven’t seen him, that he isn’t a leader anymore,” Anna explained. She looked scared, but I knew she would be fine.
I let out a heavy sigh before standing up. I didn’t feel like dealing with a bunch of men, who are lost without a leader.
“Nymeria,” Micheal tried grabbing at me.
I leaned into him, pushing him down, into the bed. “Let me go.”
Micheal begrudgingly nodded and laid back, looking up at the tent’s ceiling. He looked a bit upset, but he was hurt and I was not going to let him strain himself for a bunch of disloyal idiots.
When Anna and I made our way towards the middle of the camp, the sounds of rioting men were growing louder. I could feel my body tensing and I was growing angrier with each step.
Anna grabbed my arm and looked at me with intense eyes. “Be careful. They won’t take you seriously. You need to strike fear into them.”
I nodded at her and continued on, towards the riot, without Anna.
When I approached the riot, I examined the area. It wasn’t so bad. There were around 50, out of the 200 men that we were taking with us, who were rioting. I held my breath and stepped forward, pushing my way through the crowd, to get to the middle. I was nervous, but I did my best not to show that.
I wouldn’t lie, I was nervous. I was a stranger among all of these people. They wouldn’t listen to me. If my leader was injured and my husband tried to take control, I knew my people wouldn’t listen to him. It was just loyalty.
