by Nicole René
“Aggod, our tribe welcomes you as always.”
A fourteen-year-old Namoriee watched as the chief of the Asori tribe, Yoro, clasped his fist to his chest before bowing at the waist as is customary for a respectful greeting. Aggod showed the same respect, a rare smile graced her face when she straightened.
“Yoro, I am happy to be here,” Aggod looked to his right where his wife stood, “as always it is an honor to be able to learn from the legendary healer, Cissilee. Chief Xavier sends his regards.”
“And how fares he? I have been hearing rumors of late of a marriage between the Rhoxolani and Izayges. He has a daughter, does he not? Is the master of death getting married? No doubt it would be a relief to Boers, to of finally settled the feud between his people and yours.”
Namoriee shifted uncomfortably. She was warned beforehand to keep quiet by Aggod by the threat of receiving a lashing should her tongue speak freely should the same question be asked to her.
Aggod’s expression belayed nothing but politeness. “Our travel was long, we wish to rest.”
“Of course,” Yoro chuckled, knowing that Aggod would not answer his question, no matter how cleverly he fished for it. “You shall stay in the same quarters upon your last visit. Rest well.”
With one last respectful gesture, Namoriee followed Aggod until they reached the wooden hut that would house them for the duration of their stay at the Asori village.
“Is i-i-t true A-a-aggod? Will Chief Xavier m-m-marry?” Namoriee timidly asked. Aggod was used to her stutter, as she was one of the few that Namoriee spoke to.
“Our tribe has been battling the Rhoxolani for decades, Chief Xavier is the only one that thought to find peace between us. It helps that the Rhoxolani tribe has a daughter, who I hear is as beautiful as the Goddess Ianna, with a kind heart. The Chief is smart to join with them, for it benefits only himself.”
The Izayges were the biggest tribe of Samaria, and though they were three more tribes, there was an unspoken agreement that the Izayges ruled all, as they have to most land and manpower should any of the tribes decide to rise up in mutiny. It would be their death, as the Izayges also protect their land as well as their own. Had the great betrayal of the Rhoxolani, where the Rhoxolani daughter Lyrical was caught bedding another man on the day of her wedding to the son of the Izayges, happen, there would be no battles between the Rhoxolani and Izayges.
Chief Xavier was a dangerous and forbidding man as he is clever. Tall, with eyes as black and lifeless as the night, and hair long and dark like coal, he was an intimidating man and ruthless warrior. Chief Xavier had never been bested in battle, and he ran his tribe with the same emotionless empathy as he did when killing his enemies. He was not a kind man, and she did not wish anyone to be his wife.
She hadn’t realized that she had spoken that thought out loud until the sharp pain of a backhand sliced across her face.
“You do not know what you speak!” Aggod hissed at her.
Namoriee lowered her gaze, bringing a hand up to cup her stinging cheek. She heard Aggod sigh, and then her footsteps padded across the room. She grew still when she heard her rummage through something before the distinct should of a belt unraveling. It was the sound she detested the most.
“Take off your dress, girl.”
Namoriee sniffled, fear paralyzing her before the familiar detached numbness settled over her as she completed the steps that were all too familiar to her. She by taking off her clothes until she was as naked as the day she was born and walked over to Aggod who wordlessly gave her the strip of leather that she may put in her mouth. She pulled her hair to the side the same time her knees hit the floor, her back to Aggod.
Crack!
The leather of the belt snapped against her skin swiftly, the bite bringing instant tears to her eyes. The second happened just as suddenly, and by the third, Namoriee’s teeth were clamped around the leather to silence her scream. By the time Aggod was finished with her punishment, she had received fourteen lashes, and Namoriee’s face was slick with tears in the same fashion that blood trickled down her back.
“You dishonored me tonight Namoriee, let the pain serve as a reminder to never dishonor your tribe, and the chief,” Aggod said from behind her. “I will not heal these, but you may rest your back in the river.”
Namoriee’s hand was shaking when she placed the leather strip down in Aggod’s outstretched hand and gingerly stood. It would be agony putting her dress back on, so she settled on her downing her cloak instead. The rough wool scratched at her open wounds, but Namoriee didn’t dare complain. Without saying another word, Namoriee grabbed the torch and walked out.
Namoriee winced, biting her lip against the sob that wanted to break free as she sunk deeper into the icy water. The Asori tribe was located higher, near the mountains, so it took longer for the snow to melt. The cold stole Namoriee’s breath, and instantly numbed her body. Icy pin needles pricked her skin at the temperature, and the pain was both a blessing and a curse on her open wounds. It took her a moment, but after a while Namoriee was numb enough for the cold not to bother her, even as her body shivered as she floated on her back. The torch gave her just enough light to see in front of her, while the rest of the wilderness was cloaked in inky midnight. She closed her eyes, finding contentment in the noises of the wild; she heard the owls cooing, and the constant sympathy of crickets, and the distant howls of wolves. It was peaceful.
Until it wasn’t.
“You’ll freeze.”
Namoriee screamed, jolting upright ungracefully at the sudden voice. A boy stood on the bank, but she wasn’t able to make out his features clearly as he half shrouded by the shadows.
“If death is what you seek, I could easily relieve you in a quicker way.”
Her insides became just as chilled as the water she stood in at that offer.
“Unless you actually enjoy swimming in freezing waters at night, which by the life of me, I have no clue why anyone would.” He took a step forward, the light illuminating from the torch revealing only the curve of his jaw.
“What is your name?”
Namoriee opened her mouth as if to answer out of habit, before snapping it close. It wouldn’t be the smartest idea to give information out to a stranger.
“Do you speak?” the stranger asked when she stayed silent, sounding amused. She looked around her. It was dark, her torch was the only source of any kind of light besides the moon. She could dive under water and swim far enough away that he wouldn’t be able to track her movements. It would be cold, but what choice did she have? She looked at the tree, wear her cloak hung. She groaned inwardly.
She would swim to shore, get out with no cloak, and then make her way back to the Asori village for all to see her nakedness—that’s if she didn’t freeze to death first.
Brilliant plan.
But again, what choice did she have?
As if sensing her plan, the stranger said, “don’t.”
Namoriee back up to him, startled to see that he was now at the foot of the bank, illuminated. Even more startled to see that he didn’t look to be much older than she was. He had straight brown hair that had a small portion pulled back while the sides were shaved. She wasn’t close enough to see his eyes, and the shadows played tricks on his physic, so she couldn’t tell how tall he was. What she could tell though, was that he was almost as naked as her, minus the breeches that were cropped at the knees and the fur pallet around his shoulders.
“I will not harm you,” he said to her, hands raised in a surrounding position. “I was simply looking to quench my thirst and saw you.” He spoke in a tone equal to what you would use not to spook an animal.
“What are you doing out here?”
She didn’t realize that she is moving toward him, her curiosity ruling out her smarts until his eyes flashed down and he took in a sharp intake of breath. She looked down, her hardened nipples were peeking out of the water, and the top of her mound was visible. She gasped, covering her chest and s
inking down deeper in the water. Her face was flaming with embarrassment.
“I…” he coughed. His voice was high pitched. “I’ll just…” she tracked his movement with her eyes as he crossed over to where her cloak was and grabbed it and walked back to her. His eyes were closed when he said, “here,” and held her cloak open.
Namoriee hesitated, looking between the cloak and him.
“I won’t look. I promise.”
A promise of a stranger had no merit, but her limbs were starting to get heavy. He grew still when the water rustled, then relaxed she took the cloak from him. She wrapped it around her quickly and then took several steps back. He waited a beat before peaking his eye open and standing up straight when he saw she was decent.
“Better?”
She paused, then nodded, causing him to grin.
“Are you mute?”
She shook her head. His grin grew, and she didn’t understand why it made her want to grin too.
“I wish to tell you my name, but I would like to know yours so that I may know in the morrow that this wasn’t just a dream. For your beauty is like the greatest of stars, and equal to the water nymphs.”
Namoriee flushed, looking away shyly. There was one type of man that she knew that could flirt like that. She peaked up at him again, but she couldn’t identify any markings of the Sicares.
“A warrior must learn how to survive even in the coldest of weathers on his own.”
She relaxed.
“P-prova S-sinav-vi,” she stuttered, barely above a whisper, but he heard her.
“I knew you were Samaritan,” he grinned, answering her theory. “You are Asori then?”
Mutely, Namoriee shook her head causing him to frown, disappointed that she went back to silence. “Well I know you’re not Sicares, and only one other tribe has features like you. What is an Izayges doing so far from home?”
Namoriee bit her lip, not knowing how to answer. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt at ease in Torrick’s presence, but she was embarrassed at her speech. She didn’t speak to a lot of people, as they were usually impatient. The people in her village couldn’t understand why she couldn’t speak like them.
She flinched when he touched her throat. She stumbled back, glaring.
“I’m sorry!” he cried out hastily when she started to walk away. “I just…I have a brother,” he paused. “Sometimes his throat feels tight and he can’t get his words out…all at once.” He pinned her with his green eyes, an unspoken message there. It was the kindest thing he could have said.
"Namoriee,” she whispered finally. “My n-n-name is Namoriee.”
A smile lit up his face, and she couldn’t help but smile shyly back.
“It’s nice to meet you, Namoriee. My name is Torrick. I think we’re going to be great friends.”
A pounding at her door jolted her awake. She lifted her head, staring at her door. Her heart was beating a frantic temp, fear chilling her.
Was it Cantos? Did he somehow find out where she lived?
She cursed at herself. What a ridiculous thought. If it was Cantos, he wouldn’t be banging on the door. But then, who could it be? As if hearing her thoughts, the familiar voice on the other side of her door called out,
“Namoriee, open the door!”
Torrick. Oh Goddess, he couldn’t see her like this! He’d immediately want to know who it was, and she couldn’t tell him.
“I mean it! I haven’t seen you in days! Open this door!”
She’s been hiding out in her hut, waiting for her swelling to go down. Which they haven’t, not really. Would he even believe her that his fellow warrior and tribesman had done it? Another bang at her door startled her.
“Nam, if you don’t open this door, I’m going to kick it in.”
He meant it, too.
“C-c-coming!” She winced. Her voice was way too high pitch. It will give her away, and he’ll know something was wrong.
Torrick paused, and Namoriee knew she was right; she was running out time.
“I’m coming in.”
“No, don’t—!”
She shrieked when the door went flying, wood splintering in all directions. Torrick stepped in, and it didn’t take him long to locate her in the room. She clutched her robe tighter to herself and watched as the shock fled from his expression and was replaced with fury.
“Who did this to you?” Torrick demanded, coming to a stop to stand before her in three angry strides.
“Torrick, it’s n-n-nothin—”
“No!” he barked out, his arm slashing angrily at her face. “Don’t try and downplay this, Nam! Who did this?”
Namoriee shook her head, wincing when he gently gripped her chin to tilt her head up more toward the light.
“I’m gonna kill them,” Torrick growled, and Namoriee has never heard him so furious. Usually, Torrick had a demeanor much like Tyronian’s. Every time she would travel with Aggod and visit the Siraces, he was easy going, flirtatious, and always made her laugh. He smiled often and liked to tease her relentlessly. But looking at him now, she saw mercilessness in his eyes. She saw his warrior, the dark beast he censored around her.
“Tell me now,” he said, his tone not any less harsh with his anger, but she could tell her made an effort to calm his voice, trying to persuade her into revealing who her attacker was. “Who did this to you, beautiful?”
Namoriee shook her head, feeling close to tears. “I cannot tell you. I’m sorry!” she cried when he pulled away from her with an angry yell. He whirled back to face her.
“Why are you protecting this bastard?” he yelled. “He deserves to be punished! Killed!”
“Yes, b-but not b-by you, Torrick.”
In a flash, his expression changed, and Namoriee wondered what she said to put that look on there.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” he said, soft with malice. “That’s why you don’t want to tell me?”
“I-I…” She took a hesitant step back when he took a purposeful one forward.
“It was the blonde. From last night.”
Her one eye widened.
“W-w-what?” she spluttered. “N-no! Torrick you h-have it w-wrong!” She rushed over to him, panic consuming her.
“Stop lying to me!” Torrick roared, a vein protruding from his forehead. “I saw the way he looked at you!”
“No, T-torrick, please l-l-listen—”
“I’m going to kill him,” he seethed down at her, and her panic doubled with fear when he started to march for the door.
“No!” she cried hysterically, grabbing his arm to try and stop him but he shook her off easily.
“It wasn’t him! Please don’t go!”
But he wasn’t listening, and Namoriee watched as he stormed away.
She didn’t have to worry about Tristan keeping his promise—Torrick was going to confront Tyronian, and he’ll be heading straight here. She could only do the most logical thing to make sure their confrontation didn’t happen.
She ran.
Tyronian’s body jolted awake by his door crashing open. He sat up quickly, his hand going for his sword that he kept beside his bed on instinct. When the face of the intruder cut through his bleary mind, he couldn’t say that he relaxed any less.
“What do you want?”
Torrick stood there, his eyes spitting with rage. “Did you do that to her?”
Tyronian raised a brow when Torrick followed up that question by taking a threatening step toward him. Kid had guts.
“What are you on about?” Tyronian sighed, already bored with this conversation. Torrick stomped to him, his face blotchy red with his anger. “Did you do that to Namoriee?” He yelled at him.
At the mention of Namoriee, Tyronian’s whole demeanor changed. Before Torrick could react, Tyronian had him by the throat and in the air, his toes barely skimming the floor.
“You better start talking, real quick otherwise you won’t be talking at all,” Tyronian bit out threateningly. Torrick gripped the h
and that was holding onto his throat, choking. Tyronian loosened his grip—barely—enough for Torrick’s face to turn a more natural color.
“She was attacked,” Torrick’s eyes were glaring daggers at him. “The last person she with was—”
“Me,” Tyronian answered grimly. He released his grip and stepped away. “I would never hurt Namoriee.”
“Forgive me if I don’t believe you,” Torrick glared, rubbing his throat gingerly.
“You don’t have to believe me,” Tyronian said evenly. “What you do need to do is tell me what your relationship with Namoriee is?”
“I don’t need to tell you anything.”
“That’s where you're wrong,” Tyronian replied coldly, “Perhaps you didn’t quite get it last night, but Namoriee is mine. Therefore, whatever you think you have with her, you don’t. Understand?”
“She’s not yours, and from what I’ve seen so far, she doesn’t want to be. You have no claim on her, and I’m not the kind to not go after what I want.”
Tyronian's expression grew dark. “Don’t play with me little boy,” Tyronian growled, stepping into Torrick’s space to glare down at him fully.
“I might be handsome, and charming, and pretty much the best damn thing in this land, but I will kill anyone who gets in my way and messes with what’s mine.”
“Why? Torrick taunted, “Afraid of some competition?”
Tyronian made a point to survey Torrick, his grin arrogant. “There is none.”
“We’ll see!” Torrick called out to Tyronian’s back as he trailed to his door.
“You better be out of my hut by my return,” was all that Tyronian said in response before slamming the door.