I crawl away into a corner, scared for what they might do to me. “Please, don’t hurt me,” I say, clutching my legs.
An old woman might not look threatening, but those guards out there sure do. Soren was raised here … and that means those men out there are just like him. Burly, strong, dangerous to the core. The mere sight of that knife made me complacent.
And if he brought me to this old woman, that can only mean one thing. Power.
She approaches me like I’m some kind of wildling, taking quick steps and then slow ones, confusing the fuck out of me until she’s right in front of me and I have no way out. With her cane, she slides aside a part of my shirt, revealing my shoulder, and she curiously glances at it with a frown. Then she bends over and clutches my chin, pushing my head side to side.
“No markings,” she says with a clearly not English accent.
Markings? Is that what they call tattoos here?
“You don’t belong here,” she says, looking me directly in the eyes. “Tell me who you are.”
“April,” I say in a single breath, struggling to breathe. “Please, let me go. I was only trying to—”
“Tsk,” she interrupts. “Silence, child.”
Child? I haven’t been called that since I was ten.
What is this place?
No wonder Soren was so adamant about following the rules, seeing where he was sent back to when he didn’t … and how they welcomed him back.
“Let Soren go,” I growl at her.
What is she going to do? Call that guard on me again?
He brought me here for a reason. She wanted to see me, which means she wants information. And I’m not going to give her anything until she gives me what I want.
She smirks and cocks her head, then gets up and opens the tarp to whisper to the guard. He leaves, only to come back minutes later with two more people. Two old women, to be exact, all wearing that same damn crown of leaves on their heads.
Are they the village elders or something? I’ve never seen women in a position of this kind of power before. It’d be intriguing if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m tied up and left to their mercy.
“So … this is the one?” one of the other older women says, who has the most wrinkles of all of them, and her skin seems covered in mud … or blood. Was she the one performing that ritual out there?
She approaches me, and I lean back, away from her fingers as she touches my skin and cheeks. A horrible stench is left on my skin, but I can’t brush it off, and it makes me want to vomit. Definitely animal blood.
The other, more timid one steps forward. Clutching her hands, she goes to her knees and looks at me. “Child. Tell us where you’re from.”
I don’t reply. I’m not about to give these women my address. Fuck no.
“How did you get to this island?”
“A boat,” I hiss.
“Whose?”
I shrug. I’m not going to throw my sailor under the bus.
“Why?” the other one with the blood on her skin asks.
I look her directly in the eyes. “For Soren.”
The other one gasps, and they all look at each other like they could never fathom someone coming here for one of their own.
They whisper amongst themselves, but I can hear them. The one with the cane says, “The guard told me she was trying to free him.”
“And I won’t stop until I’ve succeeded,” I respond, after which they all stare at me.
The one with the cane taps the floor while running her tongue across her teeth. She stands in front of me and goes to her knees while the other two elder ladies search my bag, inspecting every little thing that I brought, including a comb, a bottle of water, a sleeping bag, and a knife.
I wish I’d grabbed it before that guard got ahold of me.
The old woman in front of me clears her throat and taps the floor with her cane to catch my attention. “I’m curious, child. Why do you care so much about this one man?”
“Because he chose me and my happiness over his own freedom. That’s why.”
She frowns, but then a peculiar smile forms on her lips. “So you’re the one …”
The one? What does she mean?
“Soren told me about you and what you did to him.” She cocks her head and smiles. “You are the one who took away his honor.”
My eyes widen. Oh, God. Are they going to accuse me of taking away his virginity?
“It’s not like that. He was in pain, I tried to help him, and then—”
She covers my mouth with her hand. “We don’t speak of such heinous acts here.” When she removes her hand again, she continues. “Our customs are sacred to us. But he has tasted the forbidden fruit, and now he must be punished.”