Falling Warriors Series Collection (Books 1, 2 & 1.5)

by Nicole René

  “Now we have to try and escape.” Namoriee rolled her eyes at Leawyn’s stating the obvious.

  They walked up to the opening of the tent; loud male voices could be heard from the other side. Leawyn pulled back the flap enough for them to duck their heads and peek outside; they pulled back immediately.

  “Well, that’s not good,” Leawyn deadpanned. Namoriee nodded her agreement, eyes wide.

  “What are we going to do?”

  The tent was guarded, which didn’t particularly surprise Leawyn. What did surprise her was the number of guards stationed. Two guards stood at the ready directly outside of the tent, with a huddled group sitting around the fire in the center of the quad. The other guards stationed on the outskirts solidified the fact they were surrounded.

  Leawyn looked around their sparse tent thoughtfully. “As far as we can tell, they only had one guard in the back, so if we can take him out, we’ll sneak away.”

  “How are we gonna do that?”

  “We’ll cut a slit in the tent,” Leawyn pointed over to the corner and the silhouette of the sole standing guard.

  “And after?”

  Leawyn shrugged helplessly, giving her handmaiden an exasperated look. “I don’t know, Namoriee! I’m doing this as we go.”

  “We have to get out of this camp—unnoticed—and then there’s the fact of somehow getting back,” Namoriee pointed out obviously. Dubiously. “We’ll never make it.”

  “We have to try.” Leawyn said firmly. “If we don’t, hundreds of people will die. Gather your courage, Namoriee,” she ordered grimly, “because we’re going to get out of here.”

  Namoriee inhaled shakily, but she pushed back her shoulders in determination. It made Leawyn grin. Namoriee was stronger than she thought she was.

  They tiptoed to the back of the tent, careful to avoid direct firelight so as to not create their shadows.

  When Leawyn was stationed directly behind the guard’s silhouette, she looked over to Namoriee, who nodded at her, her face bleak but determined. Leawyn gripped the dagger tighter, pointing the tip so it was level with his skull.

  It was just when Leawyn finally found the strength to plunge the dagger into his skull that he jerked, reaching up toward his neck, before slumping to the ground.

  The women looked at each other in alarm. They jumped when the flap to the tent was wrenched opened.

  “You!” Leawyn said in surprise, lowering the dagger from in front of her. “What are you doing here?” she asked in bewilderment.

  The strange woman with the colorful eyes threw a bow to Leawyn, who snatched it out of the air on instinct. Leawyn looked down, seeing that it was her bow. She looked up.

  “We don’t have much time. Come.”

  The dark-skinned beauty turned on her heel, disappearing as quickly as she appeared.

  “Who was that?” Namoriee asked, wide-eyed.

  “I have no idea.” Leawyn shrugged. “But for right now, she’s on our side. Let’s go.”

  Namoriee groaned and followed Leawyn outside where the strange woman was waiting for them impatiently.

  “What did you do to them?”

  Bodies were everywhere Leawyn looked.

  “Fast-acting dart. Quick and silent.” The woman pointed at the thin sticks lodged into the necks of the men.

  Leawyn prodded one of the bodies with the tip of her toe. “Are they dead?”

  “Yes,” the woman answered simply. Namoriee and Leawyn shared a stunned look.

  “But I did not kill all of them. Just the ones who would hinder your escape. We must hurry; it won’t be long before someone finds one of the bodies.”

  Leawyn didn’t ask any more questions. She was right; they didn’t have time to ask questions. They ran a different way than she was brought in, and when the woman stopped in front of the rocks that made up the base of the cliff with a long, thick rope hanging down from it, she stopped and turned to face the younger women.

  “We must climb up.”

  Leawyn’s brows shot up to her hairline. Was she serious? She tilted her head back. It was too dark to gauge how far up it was, but if it was anything like what she saw earlier…it was high.

  “She’s not serious, is she?” Namoriee’s horrified whisper sounded behind Leawyn.

  The woman’s face remained impassive as ever, but she could have sworn she seemed a bit impatient. Wordlessly, Leawyn held out her hand for the rope, wiggling her fingers in a “give it here” way.

  Leawyn gave the rope a couple of pulls, testing the strength. It seemed sturdy enough.

  “It will hold,” the woman said in her strange voice. “Now hurry, time is running out.”

  Leawyn nodded. She looked over her shoulder at Namoriee, who looked at back at her anxiously. Leawyn could see her trembling.

  “Courage, Namoriee,” Leawyn reminded her. “Once I’ve climbed a body-length distance, start to climb up after me. Okay?”

  “I’m scared of heights,” Namoriee whimpered.

  “Courage,” Leawyn ordered firmly and waited until Namoriee gave her a jerky nod before she started to climb up the rope.

  It was a lot harder than she thought it would be.

  The rope wobbled. Leawyn clung to it fearfully. For a moment, she pictured the rope snapping and her falling to her death.

  “Keep moving, Leawyn.”

  Leawyn looked down when the rough voice floated up to her. She sighed in relief. No falling to her death for her. She resumed climbing.

  It was daunting. Her arms felt weak; it was getting harder and harder to pull herself up. She was covered in sweat and out of breath. When she finally reached the top, she collapsed on the ground in relief, panting. A few moments later, Namoriee’s leg appeared over the edge. Leawyn helped pull her up when she struggled to do it herself. Namoriee collapsed much like Leawyn did, sucking air into her lungs.

  “I’m…never…doing…that…again,” Namoriee gasped out, wiping the sweat on her forehead with a trembling hand. Leawyn agreed with her wholeheartedly.

  They both looked over when the woman pulled herself up, not looking the least bit disturbed. Leawyn narrowed her eyes in envy.

  “We must hurry,” the woman urged. “That took too long.” She turned and pulled a dagger out, cutting the rope so it fell to the ground.

  As if to prove her point, shouts rang out, the sound carrying up the mountain.

  “Hurry!” the woman said sharply, taking off into the trees.

  Leawyn stood quickly, hauling Namoriee up with her, and they followed. They ran until they burst into a small clearing where three horses stood waiting. The woman made a beeline for them, quickly untying the buckskin and tossing Leawyn the reins.

  “This one is the fastest,” she told Leawyn. “And he’ll run until his heart stops if you ask it of him.”

  Leawyn climbed up smoothly, turning the stallion in a tight circle when he sidestepped impatiently.

  “You must ride hard, Leawyn. Do not stop. When you get to the river, head east. It will be a straight shot from there.”

  Namoriee pulled up beside Leawyn, riding a dapple-gray mare.

  Leawyn looked down at the woman. “You’re not coming with us, are you?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

  “No, I am not.”

  “Why did you help me twice? You must have been watching me for a while. Who are you?”

  “Let’s just say we have a common enemy,” the woman replied mystically.

  “That answer is unacceptable,” Leawyn told her, scowling.

  “It’s the only answer you’re going to get.”

  “At least tell me your name!” Leawyn called out desperately as the woman started riding away.

  “Don’t worry!” she called over her shoulder, riding farther and farther away. “We will meet again. Ride hard!” Leawyn could only watch helplessly as the woman rode away, quickly disappearing into the night.

  Leawyn looked over at Namoriee, putting the mystery woman in the back of her mind. She had m
ore important things to think about.

  “Don’t worry,” Namoriee said before Leawyn could open her mouth. “I’ll keep up, no matter what.”

  Leawyn nodded. They both knew it couldn’t be any other way. Without saying anymore, she dug her heels into her horse’s side and took off, Namoriee quickly following.

  They rode hard and fast at neck-breaking speed, desperate to reach their men in time.

  “You were right,” Tyronian said quietly. Xavier looked over at him when he sidled alongside him. “You did have a plan.” His eyes were regretful. “I should have trusted you, I’m sorry.”

  “You were scared.” Xavier looked away, staring out into the distance. “I know all too well how it feels to have your woman kidnapped.”

  The air was a symphony of noise as the gathered tribes made and sharpened their weapons of choice. The sounds of the warriors blended together with the clatter of carts being loaded as the woman and elderly raced to pack up and leave, the prelude associated with an upcoming battle.

  “She’s not my woman,” Tyronian glowered, which was the expression he wore often whenever they talked of Namoriee, Xavier noticed. “Yet,” he pointed out as an afterthought, “still, that’s no excuse.” He sighed. “I won’t doubt you again.”

  “Did you kill him?” Xavier said, changing the subject. He didn’t handle apologies well.

  “Hassef is no more,” Tyronian confirmed, his expression murky. “I still can’t believe he was the traitor. I never would have guessed.”

  Xavier thought of the young warrior who had betrayed them all.

  He was young, only nineteen winters, and had still clung to his innocence and humor, that had not yet been jaded by life. Xavier always figured his age was why he wasn’t the best fighter; he was young, still had things to learn. Now that he thought about it, that was why it made sense for him to be the perfect spy.

  “I suppose that was the point,” Xavier said, letting Tyronian in on his musing.

  “He was easy to bypass. Were you able to get any information out of him?”

  “No,” Tyronian spat hatefully. “Little bastard cut out his own tongue. He must have known it was over for him, but knew he wouldn’t have been able to escape.”

  Xavier’s brows rose, impressed. “Guess he had guts after all.”

  Tyronian laughed bitterly. “I guess so. What do we do now? We’re no closer to knowing where their camp is now than we were before.”

  Xavier went to reply, but a loud shout rang out, interrupting him.

  “Riders approaching fast!”

  Xavier and Tyronian shared a look and took off running down the small incline.

  Swords were already unsheathed and archers placed at the ready to shoot when they reached the camp.

  “How many?” Xavier barked out to the scout who shouted out the warning.

  “Two, but—” The scout gasped in shock.

  Tyronian and Xavier looked up sharply at him.

  “They’re women!”

  Xavier grew rigid. Hope helplessly consumed him. It couldn’t be…

  The riders drew closer, their speed recklessly fast. When they approached close enough for him to glimpse their faces, Xavier almost collapsed in shocked relief.

  It was Leawyn and Namoriee!

  “I can’t believe it,” Tyronian breathed in astonishment, eyes wide. “How can this be?”

  Xavier couldn’t answer. His shock quickly morphed into alarm when he realized they weren’t slowing down.

  “They won’t be able to stop in time!” Tyronian yelled out, horrified.

  “Get out of the way!” Xavier yelled out to his men in panic.

  They narrowly avoided getting slammed into as they all quickly dived out of the way, just moments before Leawyn and Namoriee zoomed past them. Xavier was running towards his wife even before he was aware of getting up. Tyronian was right alongside him.

  “Leawyn!” Xavier watched in horror as both the horses’ legs buckled when they skidded to a stop, sending two bodies flying and to the ground.

  Xavier’s feet slid beneath him as he fell beside Leawyn and scooped her up in his arms before he even hit the ground.

  “Are you okay?” he asked frantically, looking her body over as she sat up, dazed.

  “Fine,” she winced. “I’m not that—”

  “What were you thinking?” Xavier screamed, shaking her roughly. “You could have been killed riding that fast!”

  “I had to get to you! I had to warn you. Xavier, I know where the ca—”

  A horrible screeching sound ripped through the air, and they all looked at the horses who were thrashing on the ground.

  “What’s happening to them?” Namoriee cried, horrified and near tears as the horses continued to let out pain-filled neighs.

  “They’re dying,” Xavier said grimly.

  “Please, put them out of their misery!” Namoriee wailed, clutching Tyronian’s arms as they all watched the horses struggling to breathe.

  Xavier stood and unsheathed his sword as he strode toward them to do just that. Just when he raised his sword to end the first horse’s suffering, an arrow zoomed past him and lodged into the creature’s head, killing it instantly.

  He looked up to see Leawyn load another arrow into her bow, tears dripping down her cheeks and face pinched in despair and guilt. She released the second arrow and lowered her bow. It was silent around them once again.

  Leawyn looked into Xavier’s eyes as he came and stood, looking down at her. He cupped both her cheeks, his thumb catching the salty liquid that dripped from her beautiful eyes.

  “They served their purpose,” Xavier told her softly.

  Leawyn’s lip still had a tremble even when she pursed them together in false acceptance. “I know.” She clutched his wrists tight with urgency.

  “I have a lot to tell you.” He watched as fear and an emotion he couldn’t place flashed in her eyes. “I know where they’re hiding. They’re coming, Xavier.”

  His breath shuddered out of him. “When?”

  Xavier only had eyes on Leawyn even as Tyronian and the other men surrounded them. They all heard her response.

  “They’re already here…and they’re going to attack tonight.”

  Leawyn wrung her hands together, her body strung tight with nervousness as she watched Xavier pace like a captured wild animal inside their tent.

  She had just confessed everything to him. She told him about the camp, the enigmatic woman who had helped her and Namoriee escape, Tristan’s involvement...Asten.

  Leawyn’s heart wouldn’t stop pounding as she told Xavier she’d kept Asten a secret since the first time she was captured, when he was there to save her. She had cried when she told him the true reason why she ran back to her native tribe; she hoped Asten would be there.

  Through it all, his expression grew stormier and stormier with each word that tumbled out of her mouth, but he had stayed silent.

  When she got to the part of how she kissed Asten back when he confessed his love for her, Xavier had shown the first sign of how furious he was when he surged to his feet.

  Leawyn had covered her mouth to quiet her sobs when he picked up the table and threw it across the room. He had smashed anything that he came across: chairs, cups, chests—nothing was safe from his wrath. He didn’t stop until nearly everything inside their tent was destroyed, and then he just stood there with his back to her in the aftermath, his shoulders heaving. Then, he started to pace, not once looking up at her.

  That was where they were at now.

  Xavier stopped suddenly, still not looking at her. The air was electric with his emotions.

  Rage. Betrayal. Fear…jealousy.

  “Is there anything else you need to tell me?” His tone was vibrating with anger.

  “Yes,” Leawyn whispered, voice thick with angst.

  “What is it?” Xavier bit out through gnashed teeth.

  Leawyn started to tremble and tried to speak around the fear that clogged her t
hroat, as she choked out her biggest secret of all.

  “I am with child.”

  The air grew deathly still.

  “What,” Xavier’s tone was indistinguishable, “did you just say?”

  “I am with—”

  Her husband’s enraged scream echoed around them. It tore Leawyn’s heart apart. He whirled around, his eyes pure fire as he marched toward her.

  She screamed when he gripped her arms tight enough to make his knuckles white and bruise her skin.

  “Is it even mine?” Xavier screamed down at her. “Is. It. Mine?”

  When Leawyn only cried harder, he released her as if she’d burned him. He stumbled back away from her as she slowly crumbled to the floor, her shaking hand covering her mouth.

  She saw the look on his face. For the first time, she was certain he wanted to kill her.

  It was silent between them for a long time, with Leawyn falling apart on the floor, and Xavier watching her in shocked silence. Suddenly, he moved towards her.

  His hand tangled into her hair. He wasn’t gentle, but he wasn’t overly forceful when he tugged her head back until her red-rimmed eyes looked into his.

  “Is it mine?” his voice cracked. He blinked rapidly against the liquid she saw pooling in his eyes.

  “Yes,” Leawyn wailed. She reached up to cup his face, but Xavier kept her from touching him by strengthening his grip on her hair. It would have been less painful if he’d slapped her. He gave no notice to her pained expression and forged ahead.

  “How do you know?” Xavier asked, unconvinced.

  “I didn’t sleep with him—no, wait!” she cried, her nails digging into his skin to keep him with her when he tried to pull away. “Please. I know you don’t believe me—”

  “Why should I?” he snapped.

  “I didn’t give him my body, Xavier, I swear. I was having symptoms before I ever saw him, but I didn’t tell you because I was scared. Please,” Leawyn whispered.

  Her hand shook against Xavier’s skin when she reached up and cupped the back of his neck. He stayed stiff, refusing to bend down to her, but she tugged until he relented. Her eyes closed when his forehead rested against hers.