Blood Pact

"We're here, the Avarosa Tribe."

Even Tryndamere, who came from the distant east, had heard of Avarosa.

The tribe had recently risen to prominence and made a name for itself.

Its leader, Ashe, had inherited the will of Avarosa, one of the Frost Sisters from ten thousand years ago. She had attracted many people who wanted to join her, and the tribe now numbered more than a hundred.

"Will they accept us?" Rugg looked at the thriving new tribe. Comparing it to the decline of his own, he felt the stark difference keenly.

"I'll go talk to them first. Wait here."

Tryndamere tidied himself up a little, trying to look less down-and-out. Then he slung his long sword across his back in case a confrontation arose and slowly made his way toward the village.

At the village entrance, a short Hearthborn with a beard reaching his chest noticed Tryndamere approaching.

The Hearthborn was first struck by Tryndamere's powerful build. He cautiously went to meet him and asked, "Who are you? What brings you to the Avarosa Tribe?"

Meanwhile, while the Hearthborn was talking to Tryndamere, a shadow slipped into the village and nimbly leaped onto the roof of a house.

"The show's about to begin." Ato concealed his presence completely. "You can't see me, you can't see me."

Tryndamere spoke the words he had prepared in advance. "My tribe suffered a devastating calamity. Fewer than ten of us survived. We hope to join the Avarosa Tribe, and we're willing to contribute our strength to it."

The Hearthborn frowned. "So you want to join us. But that's not for me to decide. The War Mother must make the call."

"I'll inform the War Mother. Have your people wait at the village entrance. You're in luck—the War Mother just returned from a hunt."

With that, the Hearthborn entered the village and headed straight for the largest house at its center. Tryndamere followed instructions and called over the other survivors, bringing their three carts of meat to the village entrance.

Just then, five people came out of the village, followed by many villagers who watched from behind.

Four of the five were young people with sturdy builds, though each was a little less imposing than Tryndamere.

In stark contrast to the strong young people, the woman in the middle looked somewhat frail.

She had delicate features and neatly combed white hair that fell on either side of her face. A blue hooded cloak hung over her shoulders, and she carried a transparent, crystal-like longbow that gave off wisps of cold.

She studied Tryndamere, and he studied her in turn.

"'I only gave you one look in the crowd...'" Ato smacked his lips in the shadows, thrilled to be watching such a good show.

Tryndamere stepped forward and greeted the woman as his tribe would: he pressed his right fist to his chest and bowed slightly. "Greetings, honorable War Mother. We are..."

"Kurk has already told me. You want to join the Avarosa Tribe?" the woman asked, her voice ethereal. Kurk was the bearded Hearthborn from earlier.

"Yes. We're willing to fight for Avarosa. These provisions are our show of good faith. We're willing to share them with the Avarosans." Tryndamere pointed to the three carts of wild boar meat behind him.

"That's so much food! Smoked into jerky, it would feed the tribe for a whole month. It'll help us get through the winter!" one of the watching villagers exclaimed.

The four strong young men said nothing. People had joined the tribe before, and the War Mother always made the decision.

The War Mother was kind by nature and welcomed all who came. She would usually agree.

But this time, her gaze never left the barbarian at the head of the group. She didn't even glance at the food behind him.

Tryndamere felt distinctly uncomfortable.

The War Mother had been looking at him ever since she arrived at the village entrance. She hadn't responded when he explained their situation, and he had no idea what to make of it.

Was she going to refuse to let them join the tribe?

Silence fell over the group.

Suddenly, as if she had made up her mind, the War Mother Ashe walked up to Tryndamere, stopping close enough for them to feel each other's breath.

She looked up at Tryndamere, who towered over her, and spoke without a hint of emotion. "If you want to join the Avarosa Tribe, you must agree to one condition."

"What condition?" At such close range, Tryndamere's heart beat faster, but he didn't look away from Ashe.

Ashe spoke each word clearly. "Become my Blood Pact."

Boom!

Tryndamere's mind exploded.

He recalled what he knew about Blood Pacts and was at a loss.

In Freljord, women were the core of a tribe, and most tribal leaders were women.

A woman could form a family with several men. A female leader's male partners were known as her Blood Pacts.

Ashe's mother, Grelna, had had as many as five Blood Pacts.

To a female leader, Blood Pacts were both a means of bearing children and warriors who protected the tribe.

As for how much genuine affection they felt for their Blood Pacts, that varied from person to person.

"Heh heh heh... Heh heh heh..." Ato, concealed on the rooftop, couldn't help laughing. "Shipping couples really is a wonderful thing!"

While Tryndamere was still bewildered, the four young members of the tribe who had come out with Ashe all stared in disbelief.

"No, War Mother! You've always refused to accept me as your Blood Pact. Why choose this barbarian you've only just met?"

"What makes him so special? Please, trust me, War Mother. Let me become your Blood Pact, and our tribe will grow even stronger!"

"I can't understand this, War Mother. You know how I feel. I would give my life to protect Avarosa and you!"

Ashe turned around, her expression cold. "It's not up to you to decide who I choose as my Blood Pact!"

"I accept." Tryndamere's voice rang out beside her, firm and strong.

Ashe turned back, only to find that Tryndamere wasn't looking at her. He was watching his own people.

Tryndamere had still been hesitating. Becoming the leader's Blood Pact meant giving up many things, such as his freedom and dignity. He would also be forbidden from betraying the leader or the tribe; if he did, he would face the harshest punishment.

But when he saw the hopeful looks on his people's faces, he knew he had to make a choice.

Ashe's voice softened. "Then welcome, New Citizens of Avalosan."

"Forgive me, War Mother, but I can't accept this." One of the young men stepped forward and drew the greatsword at his waist. "I still can't understand what makes this barbarian worthy of becoming your Blood Pact!"

"Stand down!" Ashe shouted. "Do you intend to disobey my order?"

"It's all right." Tryndamere laid his broad palm on Ashe's shoulder and drew her behind him. His gaze sharpened. "If they want proof that I'm worthy, I'll show everyone."

"You four, come at me together."