The Stolen Relic

Clarissa POV

Clarissa picked up her stride, grabbing her faded cloth skirt in a white knuckle grasp. The sun dipped behind the trees, and the shadows grew long along the dirt path she walked. This path, through the dusky woods, held untold dangers after dark. 

Nightfall was swiftly encroaching. Silently, she cursed the traveling salesman, who had such beautiful dresses and jewelry for sale. She had stayed behind when her friends headed home, so she could dream of the day that a farmer’s daughter like her could afford such luxury.

The salesman had been all too happy to allow her to showcase his wares. Maybe it had something to do with the joy it brought her. He did say she had a beautiful smile. And he was not the first to use the word beautiful to describe her.

Her family’s status in life meant they often struggled to get the basics. But even dressed in rags, she caught the attention of the local boys by the age of 12. Even with the little bit of dirt that she always inevitably got on her face, she managed to keep her grace. Now, she was barely 18 but had a grown woman's body.

Her hair was the color of auburn that she loved. But it was unruly. There were products and herbal remedies that the traveling salesmen usually seemed to have to tame it. But her family had no means of paying for it. When she was working on the farm, she would tie her hair with twine. But it never stayed tied for long.

Her skin was the same pale as the others here. The weather was usually cool, even in the summer. So most of the activities in town were indoors. Of course, farm life required her to work outside. But the skies were more often clouded over than not. The sun did not have the opportunity to darken her skin.

Some of the girls teased her that she must be part swan because despite not being able to afford makeup or other products, her skin always seemed flawless. Any pimples she had would cause her friends to say, “is the world ending?”

Upon further considering the salesman, Clarissa realized that letting her try out his wares was good for his business. As she appraised his goods, people gathered around. It brought curious people to the merchant’s tent.

After Clarissa adorned a piece of jewelry, men bought it as a surprise for their wives. Women peered on with envy as Clarissa donned expensive dresses. They were quick to buy them once she changed out of them.

But now it was growing dark, and she was alone on the road. Stories of bandits ran through her mind as she scrambled forward. Her eyes furtively darted from the trees on her left and right. She still had a good mile to walk when the stars shone brightly.

The full moon lit the sky, which was uncharacteristically clear tonight. It would have been beautiful if her nerves were not on high alert. As if hearing her thoughts, a wolf ominously howled in the distance. A breeze blew coldly across her skin and made her shudder. 

In her mind, she could hear the speech she was surely going to get when she got home. Her mother would go on about ‘creatures’ in the night and bandits, who were only after a woman’s innocence - oh, and money. But at the end of such a speech, her mother always hugged her tightly and spoke of how miserable it would be to lose her precious daughter.

She grunted. After so many times, it lost its endearing traits, and Clarissa felt suffocated. She shook her head as her memories traveled back to the argument they had before Clarissa had literally run to town. She knew her mother was looking out for her and wanted her to have the best future.

 But Clarissa disagreed with how to make that future happen. Her parents promised her hand in marriage to Stefan, who had come to town last week. He obviously had a lot of money. Her mother said that kind of money would keep Clarissa comfortable for life, and she was eager to receive the dowry.

 But Clarissa was not interested in that arrogant attitude or how he seemed always to be lording over others. Who did he think he was? Unfortunately, Clarissa didn’t know who he was or where exactly he came from. So she wasn’t going to be able to answer that question.

Yet, he was ruggedly handsome, strong, and fiercely capable. She mused, ‘any woman by his side would feel safe.’ But he was way too old for her! 

Well, exactly how old was he anyway? There was a youthfulness about his countenance and behavior sometimes. He had a boyish smile that was definitely disarming and probably misleading. Stefan kept his brown hair unstyled, which always seemed messy to her. 

But when her gaze met his confident eyes in the street, she saw a depth and steely hardness that might have indicated a thousand years of battle. A naughty voice in her mind wondered if he had that much experience with women too. The thought made her blush despite no one around to hear her thoughts.

His skin, especially on his face, was hardened by the rough wind where he lived. But if she were to guess based on facial features, she would say early 20s. Yet that scar above his eyebrow added another 20 years. 

Her attention returned to the path. From the dark trees, a horrifying rustle stole her attention. She froze in place, wide eyes scanning for the sound. What was that?

Her heartbeat wildly. She waited for the villain. He’d jump out of the bushes.

A high-pitched yowl made her jump. A feral grey cat ran across the street, disappearing into the murky shadows. 

Clarissa could not hold back the nervous giggle. It startled her into stepping forward again. She smiled loosely when she heard the sound again.

What would it be this time? A squirrel? ‘Yeah, the woods were full of monstrous beasts at night.’ She joked to herself in an attempt to battle back the skittishness. It only partially worked.

A giant hulking man staggered onto the empty path before her. He towered menacingly over her, his long shadow devouring her. She shivered and glanced around. How could she escape? 

She looked pensively up into his leering face. He had a ghastly jagged scar. It tore up his left cheek, spreading to his mouth. A swift diagonal slash up the side of his nose. Then it vanished beneath well-knotted bangs.

Greasy, knotted clumps of hair covered his face. His overpowering smell was body odor and sulfur.

“Well, what do we have here?” His voice crackled, a little too high-pitched for the scarred muscular man that stood before her.

“If you would allow me to pass, I would be much obliged. I am on my way home.” She weakly smiled at him, trying to charm her way through his graces.

He chuckled. “Why would I do that? My brothers and I would love a good ransom.” 

He meant his chuckle to be cruel, but it was more like an escaped asylum patient. Clarissa shook her head and motioned to her well-worn dress. 

“My parents are but poor farmers. They would have no money to pay such ransom.”

He stepped closer, forcing her to look directly up to see his face. When he breathed, it smelled like death rode upon his breath. 

“Well, then we could play with you, dolly…” He murmured quietly.

At that moment, a sudden pain blinded her from behind. She stumbled forward into the disgusting cretin. 

“What did you do that for, Willy?” She heard the giant in front of her ask as he picked her up like a ragdoll.

“Why do you always gotta talk to prey?” A slimy male voice replied. 

Her vision swam, and she could barely keep herself conscious. The thrumming behind her eyes was louder than anything else in the night. Although, she was sure she was the only one who could hear it. 

He carried Clarissa by cradling her in his arms like a baby. She didn’t have the strength to fight him. But she appreciated the tenderness and was surprised by the gentleness in his touch.

He placed her carefully by a fire as another voice criticized him for being considerate. Two people she couldn’t see snickered. Ignoring his companions, the giant sat in front of her, propping her up in a position that he thought was most comfortable. 

Then there were gentle hands at her wrists, tying tight knots with a rough rope. She pushed herself to the side, managing to grumble despite the fog that filled her mind, “no…” But her protests were greeted by more grimy laughter. 

She felt the warmth of the fire against her delicate skin and wondered if her gentle giant felt the chill as the cool night air crept across her skin. He may want to ‘play’ with her, whatever that means. But he was also trying to be kind.

Staying out of her line of sight, the other two brothers whispered in monotone. Clarissa could not make out all the words, but it definitely sounded like they were discussing what to do with her. The giant plopped down on a rock across from her. 

“What is your family name?” He asked her. 

She tried to act like she was still out of it, but he waited quietly. Her head was still swimming from the blow, but she had regained enough sense to understand what was going on. Finally, she sniffed. 

He was staring intently at her and had every intention of waiting for her answer. She tried to reposition herself on the ground, but her dress caught underneath her and yanked the fabric. The neckline of her dress dipped, exposing more skin than should be tolerated in public. 

The cool breeze whipped across her exposed skin, followed by the pulse of heat from the fire. His brown eyes had dipped down but quickly moved back to hers. There was no point in ignoring him. 

“I am Clarissa Fairwater. Who are you?” She demanded, hoping he caught the accusatory tone of her voice.

“Rocko.” He said with a dimwitted shrug. “Jerry, her name is Fairwater.” He called over her shoulder. 

“What are you telling her our names for, dumbass?” 

She recognized the complaining man’s voice from when he had hit her on the road.

Another voice, contemplative and gravely, spoke. “Fairwater? That is the farm name down that way. She’s probably right. They look nasty poor. Probably don’t even have enough water for proper hygiene.” 

His voice traveled down her spine as the insult lodged in her throat. Hate filled her eyes.

“Now, you have done it!” The giant grumbled. “Now, she will never play with me!” He got up and stomped off behind her. 

The insulting voice continued, making her skin crawl, “we must make sure that we give her one before getting rid of her.” He chuckled.

She heard a whistling before a loud thud rocked her. Rocko’s head lay at her feet, blood starting to bubble out of his mouth. She held back a scream as she heard the other two scramble to their feet. Glancing back, Clarissa saw the arrow poking out from him. It had found its target’s weakest spot with complete accuracy. 

“She’ll play with meeee.” The first part of the sentence had been a glib statement made to poke fun at Rocko. But when he saw his friend on the ground, his voice changed, and he drew out his last word.