Chapter 3

Erik sat on the bank of the stream, running the damp rag across his blade, cleaning the blood from it. He had killed before but always by pushing a button, without having to see the looks on their faces. This was different. He had felt their flesh try to resist him but it couldn't. He had seen them as they realised they were going to die and they couldn't do anything about it. The looks on their faces would haunt him for a long time to come.

Erik was broken out of his trance by the sounds of someone approaching. He turned and saw that it was the woman who he had saved. She was walking to him slowly, carefully holding his axe. Erik looked across the stream and laughed silently, he had been in such a hurry to leave that he had forgotten to grab his axe. He looked at the woman again and she was holding the axe to him.

"This is yours," she said, handing Erik his axe. Erik was confused for a second. Not because he didn't know what she said but how he knew what she said. He knew that she hadn't spoken any language he had ever heard before but he understood her perfectly.

"Thank you," he replied and was again surprised. He had spoken in the same language as she had. A thought in his head said that the knowledge was given to him so that he could communicate with the locals.

"No, it is I that should thank you, for saving my life," the woman said. She turned to walk away but Erik prevented that.

"Who were they?" he asked.

"We do not know. If they have a name for themselves, we do not know it, but we call them marauders. They are always around at this time. They attack camps and groups and kill the men and older women while taking the younger women and children with them. We do not know what happens to them," the women explained.

"Why don't you move away from here?" Erik asked.

"Because the hunting and gathering is good here," the woman said. "My name is Wren."

"Mine is Erik," Erik said, introducing himself. He turned back to the stream and started to clean his axe.

"Hello Erik," Wren replied. "I am not sure how to ask this but the others in camp would like for me to convince you to stay."

"Because I am a good fighter?" Erik asked pointedly, immediately regretting how cold he sounded.

"Yes. They want you to stay in case the Marauders come back," Wren explained. "But I would like you to stay for another reason." This immediately caught Erik's attention and he looked at Wren.

"And what is your reason?" Erik asked curiously.

"The Marauder you killed killed my mate. That is reason enough," Wren explained.

"I don't understand," Erik said, confusion all over his face.

"You don't?" Wren asked in disbelief.

"No. I'm not from around here," Erik revealed.

"Oh. Well, ah, it's customary, that if you kill someone, then you take their mate or mates as your own, along with any other possessions of theirs," Wren explained softly.

"So that would make you my mate?" Erik asked slowly.

"Yes," was all Wren could reply. She lowered her head in a sign of accepting whatever fate was dealt her.

"I do not know how your customs work in this land of yours," Erik said and Wren's head dropped even lower, "But if it is customary for that to be done here, then who am I to break custom." Wren's head jumped up at this and her smile was something Erik had never seen before. "I have a question though. Where would I stay?"

"That is simple, in your lodge. It was the former leader's lodge but since he is dead and you killed the one who killed him, it is now yours," Wren explained.

"Ok, that makes sense. And how will they choose a new leader?" Erik asked as he examined his now clean axe.

"They will have a meeting and choose the best person for the job, or the one with the most support," Wren explained. "You could probably have the job if you wanted."

"I'd only take it if everyone agreed," Erik said. He ran the rag along the axe once more before standing up. "Show me our new lodge." Wren smiled at him, turned and led the way back into the camp.

As they walked through the camp, Erik looked around at everyone as they moved about. The injured were being moved into lodges for rest or more treatment, while some of the men were taking the Marauder's bodies and dumping them near the edge of camp. Returning his attention to Wren, he saw her holding a hanging skin aside from a lodge's entrance. Erik took the intention and entered the lodge.

Inside, the lodge was surprisingly comfortable. There were skins laid out on the ground as a floor covering and a pile of furs were heaped against a wall as bedding. In various other areas of the lodge were bags, skins and furs while leaning beside the entrance were several spears.