Page 36 of White Raven

Beggar’s Hole appeared abandoned and forgotten, the animal pens empty, the gardens dried up, the houses collapsing. I would’ve thought no one was here, except for the smoke twirling from chimneys. Peering from under my hood, I caught people deep in the shadows watching us in unnerving silence as we passed. Wearing filthy rags, hoods covering their heads, they were skinny and wary, their eyes burning with suspicion and aversion. A few men strolled closer, their hands purposely going to the blades at their belts, informing the trespasser to keep moving.

Once they spotted the scythe, or maybe it was the sharp teeth of the draugrhest, they kept their distance, but their attention didn’t leave us for a moment. A dozen gaunt children grouped together in an empty animal pen with a carved wooden ball, pausing mid-play. My brow crinkled, spotting several of the older ones with streaks of blond through their dirty hair and murky blue eyes. Shock had me staring at them in awe, realizing they had Day Raven characteristics in their bloodline.

No one spoke, not even the children. The only sound was the wind, and the clipping hooves over the dirt road. This place felt wrong. Unsettling. Like this town should’ve been abandoned, yet people still lived here.

The Northerner kept a steady, unthreatening pace, but I could feel the tension in his muscles, his body ready to counter an assault.

“Are they following us?” Barely moving his lips, he kept himself facing forward.

Curving my head to look around him, I spotted a few men trailing us at a distance.

“Yes.” I muttered, twisting my head back around. A gust caught under my hood, blowing it off my head. My hair unraveled from the knot, rolling down my shoulder to my waist.

“Jævel faen!” the Night Raven hissed, letting go of the reins, his hand yanking up my hood quickly. “Tuck it back in. Now.”

Cramming my long, thick hair back in the hood with the wind whipping around us was like trying to repack a cut grain bag. Strands slipped out the more I tried to cram it back in, producing a growl under his breath.

His hand clutched the escaped tresses, tucking them in roughly, his fingers sliding over my ear and down my neck. His touch stiffened me in place, a shiver running through me at the feel of his calloused fingers on my bare neck, the way it trailed down to my shoulder.

“I told you to keep it hidden,” he snapped in my ear, dissolving the odd moment into ire.

“Sorry, I can’t control the wind, Drittsekk.” Dickbag.

A noise came up his throat. Retaking the reins, he slyly peered behind us, the men still keeping a steady distance from us.

“What, a big, strong Night Raven can’t handle a few scrawny men?” I clicked my tongue, tsking.

“To protect myself, sure. But for you?” He scoffed. “I’m ready to let them have you.” He leaned into my ear, his body firm against mine. “Do you know what they would do to you if I did?” I swallowed, feeling him harden against my spine, like he got off on the idea of my demise. My breath fluttered and I tried to squirm away, but he used his elbow to pull me back. “Let’s just say, you would be better off being eaten by the Jackal. These people would keep you alive, while they took turns, then flay you open and string up your guts as a badge of honor.”

The sincerity of his tone pinned my mouth together.

“Now keep your head down and shut up.”

My hands rolled into fists. Escaping him was in my every thought, but my father had taught me sometimes it was better to keep with the devil you knew than the one you didn’t. Letting the Northerner believe his abductee was no longer fighting him would lower his guard. Make him relax, trip him up somewhere.

Every day I got further from my land, but until I was at the Night Kingdom’s border, I still had a chance. I could make it home.

The men finally stopped following us when we crossed out of their village. They watched us until we all faded into the dusky shadows.

A mile from the settlement, up an overgrown lane that branched off from the desolate road, we came upon the derelict tower perched on a hill overlooking the countryside. Stone crumbled away from the exterior. The roof was sinking on one side, but a rusty raven weathervane still stood proudly on top.

“We’ll stay here tonight.” The Northerner turned the horse toward the structure.

“Here?” My eyes widened. “Are you serious?” We weren’t that far out of that creepy village.

“They won’t come here.” He slid off, taking the horses’ reins, strolling us up to the eroding fortification.

“Are you sure about that?”

“To them this place is cursed.”

“This whole land is cursed. Why is this any different?” Sliding my leg over, I slid off the horse, my feet stinging with the impact from the high fall.

The horse curved his neck, snapping its fangs at me.

“Fuck!” I leaped back. “Bad horse!”

The Northerner smirked, rubbing the beast’s nose like he was a good pet.