by Nicole René
Namoriee looked away first. His look was too much for her. She couldn't handle the way it made her feel. Namoriee had always been the one to take care of herself, she wasn't used to someone wanting to protect her. Surprisingly Tyronian let her slide off his lap when she made to get off. He stopped her retreat though, when she went to step away. She looked back at him. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but after a while when he didn't, she pulled away and walked off.
She should have paid attention to her surroundings, and maybe then she could have prevented what happened next.
Tyronian watched Namoriee run away from him again. It seemed that's all she's able to do, but Tyronian allows it because he knew that eventually, she won't be able to escape him.
"She's weak."
Tyronian turned at Tristan's comment. "She's stronger than she thinks," he replied.
Tristan met his eyes. He was also watching Namoriee's departure.
"For your sake, I hope you're right.” Tristan's chair scraped across the grass as he pushed away from the table.
It seemed that everyone wanted to escape Tyronian's company tonight.
It didn’t take Tyronian very long to find Namoriee, and he didn’t like what he saw when he did.
She was currently in conversation with a man, but from the clothes he wore he wasn’t part of the Izayges. He said something to Namoriee, which made her grin. Tyronian narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like that.
Not one bit.
His steps quickened until he was behind her, causing her to jump when he moved so that his chest was pressed against her back. He gripped her hips, pulling her flush against him. It was a show of possession, and they knew it. Tyronian studied the boy in front of him. He didn’t look a day over twenty winters, and he was shorter than him, with brown hair that was cropped close to his head and had green eyes that had specks of gold in them. Tyronian looked down at his armor. He was Sicares.
He didn’t like him.
“Get lost,” Tyronian barked, leveling him with a glare that he reserved for his enemies on the battlefield. As far as Tyronian could tell, this kid wasn’t much different.
Namoriee gasped, no doubt shocked at how rude he was being. She shot an embarrassed and apologetic look at the Asori, further fueling Tyronian’s anger. He didn’t like that she seemed to care about him enough to want to excuse his reaction. Tyronian wasn’t a jealous man by nature, but there was something about Namoriee that made the beast inside him roar to life. He wanted her all for himself, and the thought of another taking an interest in his woman made him want to go into a rage. He didn’t want her to be with anyone else but him, and as far as he was concerned, she didn’t have any business chatting up any other man.
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Tyronian warned when the boy didn’t move. The Sicares shot a look at him, before he gave Namoriee a tight smile.
“I’ll see you around, Namoriee.”
“B-b-bye T-torrick.”
Tyronian narrowed his eyes. He especially didn’t like that they were on a first names basis. Torrick shot one more glance at Tyronian, before he continued his retreat. Tyronian watched him run go for a moment, before he whirled Namoriee around and corralled her back until she was against a hut. She looked up at him with wide eyes when his palm slapped against the bark above her ear, pushing up into her space.
“Who was that?” There was no mistaking the jealousy in his tone.
Namoriee’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. Tyronian’s other hand reached up and caressed her throat softly, knowing that her nervousness was making it difficult for her to speak.
“Or better yet, who is he to you?”
“I-I-I don-t-t kn-know wh-wha—”
Tyronian pushed himself closer to her and lowered his head so that he was more to her eye-level.
“I don’t much like my woman to escape my company, only to find it with another man,” Tyronian interrupted. His tone was silky, but the severity in the words were hard to miss.
“I’m not your w-w-woman.”
Tyronian grew still at her words, his frown fierce, but whatever he was about to say to her in response was cut off when someone called his name. He turned his head at the sound, scanning the crowd. He watched as Leawyn pushed her way through the throng of people towards them. She looked panicked.
He glanced back at Namoriee, giving her a warning look; telling her to stay put with his eyes. He pushed away from her and met Leawyn half way.
He could tell by the look on her face that something was seriously wrong.
Namoriee’s feet carried her swiftly and assuredly, easily maneuvering passed the drunk and raucous bodies that celebrated. After she had slipped away from Tyronian when he was talking to Leawyn, Namoriee had found herself aimlessly walking around like a shadow, ignored by the feast’s occupants. She lost count of how many couples she saw finding pleasure with each other. Some women were being pleasured by two to four men at a time. It was then that Namoriee decided that it would be best to make her way back home.
She thought about Tyronian. She refused to admit that part of the reason she stuck around the feast so long was because she hoped that he would find her again.
Namoriee breathed a sigh of relief when she was far enough away from the crowd that the sounds of their celebration were distant. Namoriee’s home was one of the huts that was located the farthest from the tribe. She had no neighbors, and her meager living space was surrounded by the trees. While most would be aghast to be living in such a tiny hut that was so far away, Namoriee enjoyed her solitude. Because of its location, Namoriee could hear the distant sounds of running water from the creek that traveled away from the waterfall that most of the villagers bathed in. She found it peaceful and knew that she would miss her little home when Leawyn made her move into a hut that was closer to her. Namoriee’s lips pulled down into a slight frown.
She didn’t understand Leawyn’s kindness and generosity toward her. Did she not know that she didn’t deserve it? Leawyn knew she was a slave, but she treated her like a friend. Namoriee shook her head. She didn’t understand it, but she appreciated it all the same.
Her hut was within her sight, and Namoriee mentally calculated if she had enough wood inside to light a fire, or if she would have to retrieve more. Her musings were brutally cut off when her hair was yanked, forcing her backwards against a hard chest. Her scream was muffled by the rough hand that slapped on her mouth.
“Did you think you could get away and I wouldn’t notice?”
Namoriee froze at the familiar voice, her stomach bottoming out in fear. Strong hands jerked her around, and her cheek stung by the sharp slap that was delivered before she was roughly shoved to the ground. She struggled when she felt his body on top of her. She looked up into the furious eyes of Cantos as he leered down evilly at her.
“Because of you, bitch, my nose was broken, and I was embarrassed in front of my tribesmen! Now that your guard dog isn’t here, I’m gonna take what was denied to me.”
Namoriee screamed, thrashing wildly when, with one hand, Cantos produced a dagger and proceed to cut her top in half so that her breasts spilled free, uncaring if the blade cut into delicate skin. Namoriee’s terror mounted when he dug his knees on either side of her and leaned back, unbuckling his belt.
“Shut up, whore!” He yelled over her screaming. The solid punch he threw made pain to explode throughout the left side of her face and almost knocked her out. Cantos used this to his advantage to flip her over onto her stomach.
“I’ll take you like the bitch you are,” Cantos panted from behind her.
“No, please, please!” Namoriee sobbed desperately when she felt the cool air on her backside and the heat of the skin from Cantos’s erection as he lined it up with her untouched entrance. Her nails dug into the dirt as she desperately tried to crawl away and escape the horror of being raped.
“Damn, you’re tight,” Cantos muttered breathlessly, starting to press in her. “I suppose that’s what
happens when you’re not the favored whore, huh?”
“No, please don’t,” Namoriee begged frantically around her sobs. “Please!”
“Feel free to scream. No one will save you,” Cantos hissed viciously into her ear before he pushed forward and Namoriee shrieked at the unwilling stretch as his head pushed inside her. He pushed his weight into her more, his hips trying to work against the resistance while at the same time trying to contain her. The pain was quickly becoming unbearable. Her cheeks and lips were slick with her tears and saliva. Dirt left a bitter taste in her mouth as it mingled with her sobs. All she could think about was how her innocence that she spent years protecting would be taken away from her so ruthlessly.
One more thrust, and he would be completely inside her. Namoriee’s eyes squeezed close, keeping the vision of the blond-haired warrior as he smiled at her close to give her strength to endure what was coming.
Just as suddenly as he appeared, Cantos was yanked off her forcibly. An enraged yell made
Namoriee’s eyes snap open. Sounds of a violent struggle met Namoriee’s ears as she dragged herself forward toward the trees, desperate to get away. The sounds of a scuffle followed her.
A hand on her shoulder made her scream, her hands slapping against her attackers face and body blindly as she turned.
“Enough!”
The sharp tone of the familiar voice that accompanied the jerk of her body made Namoriee freeze and snap her out of her blind terror. She opened her eyes and was shocked to see the hard-faced Tristan. Her eyes traveled over his wide shoulders to the bloodied slumped form of her would-be rapist behind them. The realization of what would have happened to her had Tristan not saved her overcame her, and she burst into tears.
Her sobs were ugly and shook her entire body as she gasped for air. She clung to Tristan like a lifeline when he jerked her into his chest. She didn’t put up a fight when Tristan pulled her onto his lap, letting her soak his tunic as he rocked her, murmuring incoherently into her ear to calm her. Neither of them paid attention to her state of dress. She didn’t know how long she clung to Tristan, but after a while, her sobs slowed to sniffles and silent tears as they coursed down her cheeks.
Tristan tilted her chin gently, forcing her face up to his gaze. Whatever he saw made his eyes flash with fury, and his jaw to clench tightly. His look was murderous.
“I should have killed him,” he muttered, shooting a glare at the still slumped form of Cantos.
“H-h-he’s a-a-alive?”
Tristan turned back to her, his grip on her body tightening as she began to shake. “I would not deny Tyronian his right.”
His reply was so simple, so straight to the point, but they caused panic to bubble up in her throat.
“No!” Namoriee cried, clutching his shoulders, “You cannot tell him!”
Tristan scowled, his grip on her chin becoming painful. “This,” Her jaw moved with his frustrated shake, “is not something you can hide, you stupid girl!”
Namoriee couldn’t explain it, but the thought of Tyronian finding out what happened to her terrified her.
“Please, T-t-ristan, he cann-not know wh-a-a-at happene-d-d-d here!”
“I don’t know what has come over my kin as of late,” Tristan said as he pushed her off him and shot up to his feet, disgusted. “Why they waste their time on foolish girls is beyond me.”
Namoriee flinched at the revolted tone she heard in his insult. She looked back up at him, her eyes starting to spill will tears renew. “Please,” she whispered. “Don’t t-tell him. I couldn’t bare it.”
Tristan said nothing in response, but his expression displayed his anger and aversion. She watched as he started to walk away from her.
“Wait!” Namoriee cried out, scrambling to her feet. “Wh-a-at a-b-bout—”
Tristan whirled back to face her, furious. “Do you really think I would just leave him here?”
He didn’t wait for a reply, and Namoriee wrapped her arms around herself as he grabbed Cantos’s bloody form by the foot and started to drag him behind him uncaringly.
“Tristan!”
Tristan stopped, exhaling angrily as he looked over his shoulder at her again.
“Thank you,” she choked out tearfully. She wasn’t thanking him for his silence.
Tristan’s only response was to turn away and disappear out of her sight.
Tyronian watched as another piece of their prisoner’s flesh was sliced away by Xavier’s bloody blade. His ears have long since gotten use to the volume of the pain-filled screams that tore out of Hiinex’s throat as Xavier tortured him.
When Leawyn had interrupted his talk with Namoriee, he never expected it was because Xavier had sent her to find him after an attack in their hut. Leawyn had managed to talk her way into separating from him to find his cousin Tristan, while he went to Xavier’s aid in the hut that he and Leawyn shared. Tyronian had prepared himself for the worst, but when he got there Xavier had calmly bound his prisoner and ordered Tyronian to string him up in the hut they reserved for prisoners.
That was a while ago, and now Tyronian was watching his cousin meticulously skin a man alive, trying to get the answers they seek.
“Who’s the leader?” Xavier asked calmly, staring at the bloody man with cold eyes. Xavier himself was covered in Hiinex’s blood, and the hut smelled of the metallic liquid, bile, and urine— all of which belonged to Hiinex.
“This is a waste of time,” Tristan muttered from beside him. Tyronian eyed him without taking his gaze fully away from Xavier’s torture spree. Tristan had been in a prissy mood since he came back. He left when Xavier first started torturing Hiinex. Something must of have happened during the time he was away to cause his more-than-usual foul mood.
“He’ll break,” Tyronian assured him, “they always do.” Tristan’s response was to give him a noncommittal grunt. Typical.
“Tell me!”
Xavier’s bellow brought Tyronian’s attention back to him. Tyronian was a warrior. He had seen his fair share of gore, but the sight of Hiinex’s broken ribs stretched and covered by only the muscle within made even him queasy. Xavier stalked forward, gripped Hiinex’s chin and rest his dagger underneath Hiinex’s eye.
“I was going to save your face for last, but I can always change plans. Tyronian,” Xavier called out to him without turning his gaze away from Hiinex. “How many eyes does a man need to see?”
“One,” Tyronian answered helpfully.
Xavier tilted his wrist, the tip of his blade dipping into the corner of Hiinex’s eyes threateningly.
“Start talking.”
Tyronian had to give the bastard credit; he didn’t even beg or flinch in fear.
“Your wife is full of secrets,” Hiinex gasped, his voice no more than a weak whisper. That’s the second time he’s mentioned Leawyn, and Tyronian was starting to get nervous. Was Hiinex just trying to play with them? Was he trying to play at Xavier’s weakness?
“You spend…all this time…interrogating me…when really,” Hiinex coughed, bloody spittle trailing down his chin, “you should ask her. It all… started…with her.”
Tyronian shared an uneasy look with Tristan. He didn’t like where this was going.
“She…knows. She knows who…” Hiinex’s responses were getting weaker, no doubt from the blood loss.
“What does she know?” Xavier demanded. He shook Hiinex roughly when he started to close his eyes. “What does she know?” he yelled.
“Ask…. her.”
When Hiinex’s form slumped against his bindings’, Xavier whirled around, his eyes homicidal.
“Xavier,” Tyronian stepped forward, intercepting him on his way to the door, knowing where he was heading. “We don’t know—”
“Get out of my way,” Xavier growled at him, his body visibly vibrating with his fury.
“He could be lying,” Tyronian tried to reason with him. If he confronted his wife the way he is now, Tyronian feared what he might do to Leawyn. “Yo
u need to calm down. You’ll terrify her if you go to her the way you look now.”
“Good. She should be,” Xavier snarled, shoving him out of the way before he could stop him. Tyronian watched him go and prayed that the strength Leawyn hinted that she possessed will shine through tonight.
“Do you think it’s true?” Tyronian asked when Tristan stepped up beside him after Xavier left.
“For her sake, I hope not.”
Tyronian rolled his eyes. Not only did that not answer his question, it wasn’t very comforting, either.
“Well, I feel much more reassured now. Thank you, Tristan, you’re always so helpful.” Tyronian said sarcastically.
“Glad I could help.”
Tyronian really wanted to wipe that smirk off his face.
The aches and pains of her ordeal really hit her by the time she made it to her hut. The first thing she had done was strip off her torn clothes, and once she had a fire going, she threw them inside. She felt guilty because it was Leawyn’s dress, but the damage was already done, and Namoriee knew that the horrible memory of tonight would never go away, it was somewhat satisfying to watch the fabric burn. Like she was burning the memory away.
She didn’t bother with getting dress again, simply donning the only robe that she processed, and gingerly made her way to her bed. She winced when she had to swing her legs up. She was dirty, she could feel the grime covering her body, and she knew she must have leaves and twigs in her hair, but she didn’t dare look at her reflection in the basin she kept for light washing. She could hardly see out of one of her eyes, and she knew it would be swollen shut and bruised more than it probably already is tomorrow.
She’d wake early, bath in the creek, and find a way to send word to Leawyn that she was ill.
Plan set, she distantly wondered if it was normal for her to be so calculating after what happened. Was her mind and body simply in shock, so it was processing in the only way it knew how? But hours later, she knew that it was temporary, because in the middle of the night, she had a nightmare and all the emotion she felt came rushing out of her body in the form of great, heaving sobs. Her tears stung her cheeks, and her body screamed in pain with each gasping heave she took, but she couldn’t stop. She cried until she could cry no more, and fitfully fell back asleep.