Blood Feud [COMPLETED]

CHAPTER NINE ☀︎

The night was endless.

Dawn came far later than it should. He was sure of it. 

They dozed intermittently, entangled in the other's limbs. Their sweat dried and made them stick together, but this only made them laugh harder when shifted to comfortable positions. Literally stuck to each other, elbows and knees banging together clumsily as they peeled limbs apart.

The light eventually bleached the orange and red leaves yellow and the sun lazily moved up the sky. He felt a peace deeper than he had experienced before, despite their makeshift quarters. The woods resonated with the sounds of furry friends. Thankfully, no signs of roving Connacta guards had greeted them.

Dozily, he noticed the straight slashes running down her forearms, thighs and both cheeks were healed. During the night, he had believed the blood was dirt and the cheek-scratches from passing brambles.

She noticed him looking, and explained, 'Are they bad? I got them in the bloodletting, a strange ritual. They draw out our blood so we can drink it and supposedly... find our soulmate, or whatever."

A brow raised, lips quirking he said, 'The cuts are healed. But more importantly... this ritual brought you to me?"

She jabbed his ribs lightly with her elbow, but relented, 'Yes.' Then registered his other words and brushed her smooth cheeks, 'That's strange. Must be some druid or soulmate magic.'

He liked the sound of the latter.

They lulled into another silence then, both dwelling on the newness of their situation. Erik was puffed up with pride that some ritual divined him as her soulmate. His mind ran away with itself, enjoying its fanciful walk into the vision of their life together, growing old.

'I remember something odd about last night. I think the druid took a lot of my blood, but I barely drank any. He brought the rest with him into his tent.'

The admission confused him, 'The man took your blood?"

A nod, reflecting his confusion.

'That's not good,' His mind waded through mental water, slowed by the release of last night's encounter, 'In the Brotherhood, we use our blood for binding sigils and eternal curses.'

Her blank face portrayed her obliviousness.

'Right, so back home if someone is murdered, their family will use their lifeblood to paint a sigil in the earth around them. When the blood seeps into the ground the murderer will be cursed eternally-- his crops will fail, his wife will grow infertile and any children he has will wither and die. If the men are going on a raid, or have to leave the village for food we place binding sigils -- in our own blood -- at the threshold of the village and each house. This is to bind our homes to the land and ensure their survival whilst the men are away.' 

He failed to mention the other main factor of the binding sigils-- that every woman was bound to the house by the mens' blood magic, unable to pass through the threshold and escape their enslavement.

Tara looked queasy with what he revealed and he felt queasy at the secrets he kept from her.

They rested a little while longer before she murmured of the day ahead. The Connacta warriors would be rousing soon, she said, slumbering well past midday due to the Rutting Moon and feasting thereafter. As the sun crawled higher and higher, so did the chance they would be caught.

"If you must escape, go now."

The flat voice surprised him, "You'd let me leave?"

Her eyes flitted to meet his, a pearlescent green, 'I would let you leave... again.'