by Nicole René
With one knee on the bed, he gently pried Namoriee's stiff legs apart and tenderly started to wipe the blood that was smeared on her skin. "Sorry," he whispered when she flinched when he cupped her, wiping the blood there as well. Throwing the rag aside, he laid down and pulled a stiff Namoriee against him, guiding her head to rest against his chest.
"You didn't have to do that," Namoriee said quietly.
"I like taking care of you," Tyronian replied simply. He glanced down at her, only to see that she was already staring up at him. "I'll always take care of you, Namoriee," he vowed.
Namoriee didn't say anything in response and he kept his stare steady when she searched his eyes. She laid her head back against his chest, and they didn't speak for the rest of the night.
Even long after she fell asleep, Tyronian watched her. His heart was pounding, and for the first time in his life, he felt fear of the future, because right then, he knew that his life depended on the girl wrapped in his arms. He couldn't live without her, and for once in his life he had a weakness his enemies could exploit. His already overwhelming protective instinct for her flared and grew to a new echelon. He would go mad if she was hurt because of him.
Xavier's craziness over Leawyn made so much more sense now.
When Namoriee woke, Tyronian was not in bed with her. Sitting up, she winced slightly and the twinge of pain it caused her. Her face reddened when she thought back about why it hurt her to move. She looked down at herself, eying her nakedness. She was no longer a maiden, her innocence taken from her.
Namoriee studied her body. Her breasts were still the same color, small and unimpressive, her legs were still the same length, and though her inner thighs had a light smattering of bruises from where Tyronian gripped them, they too looked the same.
Namoriee reached down and touched herself lightly. It was overly sensitive on her mound, even the slightest of pressure caused discomfort. She brought her hand up, studying the slim digits. Her nails were long, and curved and uneven, but it was the nails that raked down Tyronian's back in the bouts of pain, and then pleasure. She rubbed her fingers together as she thought of last night. In all accounts, the experience was nerve-wracking and uncomfortable. She was terrified when Tyronian came into the hut, and even more so when he started to undress her. It had hurt, a lot, when he entered her, just like he said it would but after all that was said and done it had felt…well, she couldn’t say good because she still felt pain throughout the whole thing, but then it had morphed so that the pain mixed with pleasure. She was warned that she would not climax the first time he laid with her. That she would be lucky to climax at all. Yet…
* * *
He was fierce, and determined and gentle with her. He took his time and seemed as if he really did feel pain when she did. Namoriee frowned. Why? Why was he so delicate with her? She had heard the stories from many women of their wedding night. Of how their husbands had bedded them after the ceremony mercilessly, and ruthlessly. Leawyn herself said that her experience was horrific. She was shaming them.
* * *
She didn’t deserve his gentleness, and she didn’t deserve to have him as husband. She was nothing. Worthless. She was a slave, and she ruined his chances of chieftain by marrying her. Bile rose in her throat as swiftly as her self-loathing. She made a promise to herself, right then and there, that regardless of what she, or Tyronian felt, she would never allow herself to feel the same.
As if the fates had heard her promise, Tyronian was summoned to the northern borders of their land for an unseen around of time. Izayges had promising land, and it wasn’t unusual that their warriors occasionally had territory battles with those wishing to claim it for their own. Normally, Xavier would be the one to lead the warriors, but since Leawyn’s pregnancy had progressed, he had stepped back to ensure he was there when she goes into childbirth. Now, he reserved that duty to Tyronian. Knowing that Tyronian is close to danger incited conflicted emotions from Namoriee. She didn’t want to be married to him, and if he were to be slain, it would free her of her marital bonds. It should be a good thing...so why does the thought of never seeing him again bring tears to her eyes, and her heart to clench in despair?
Namoriee shook her unsavory thoughts away and instead got ready for the day. Just because she was married to Tyronian now, didn’t excuse her from her duties to her Lady Chief.
A few moments later, she was knocking on Leawyn and Xavier’s door. After walking in on Xavier and Leawyn in a compromising position which involved Leawyn on the desk and her legs thrown over Xavier’s shoulders, hips moving at a rapid pace— Namoriee flushed at the memory. Needless to say, she learned to knock first instead of just going in.
“She’s not there.”
Namoriee whirled around at the voice that spoke from behind her. Tristan’s impassive face stared back at her. He nodded in the direction of where the round pins were.
“She’s with the horses.”
He didn’t elaborate any further, and Namoriee watched his back as he walked away until it disappeared in the crowd of villagers. Tristan still freaked her out. He always seemed to appear and disappear from midair. She shook her head, pushing the encounter out of her mind and headed down to the fields.
“How come you didn’t wait for me?”
Leawyn turned her attention away from the round pin that Xavier was currently in working with the solid black yearling to shot her a look of surprise. “Why would I?”
“Because I’m your handmaiden, and it’s my job to help you?” Namoriee said slowly.
“Namoriee, you’re married now. To my cousin at that, which makes you my cousin,” Leawyn beamed. “You don’t need to be my handmaiden anymore.”
She stilled, hearing her words but not fully able to process it due to the ringing in her ears.
Not her handmaiden anymore?
Suddenly, she was robbed of breath and she gasped, doubling over. It felt as if the air was sucked straight out of her lungs.
“Namoriee?” Leawyn frowned. Her eyes widened in alarm. “Namoriee!” Leawyn yelped, grasping her arm when her legs gave out.
Namoriee’s breaths were coming in ragged breaths, and she clawed at Leawyn in fear as she lowered her down.
“She’s having a panic attack,” Xavier said calmly from above her.
“Breathe, Namoriee,” Leawyn encouraged, taking a deep breath and letting it out. “Calm down, and breath.” Namoriee copied Leawyn, and gradually her heart rate slowed down, and she could inhale oxygen more easily.
Then she burst into tears.
“Namoriee,” Leawyn said softly, brows drawn down in concern. “What is it?”
“Everything is changing,” Namoriee sobbed, “my life is moving too fast, and I can’t keep up.”
She heard Leawyn sigh, before she felt her arms wrap around her in a hug. “Is this about your marriage to Tyronian?”
“It’s everything!” Namoriee wailed despondently. “My marriage to Tyronian, my living arrangement, the fact that I’m expected to carry his heir, and now I find out I can’t be your handmaiden!” She looked up at Leawyn, meeting her blue eyes.
“My life might not have been glamourous, but I had purpose. I liked being your handmaiden. I can’t…I can’t h-h-handle any more changes, Leawyn.”
“Oh, Namoriee,” Leawyn sighed when she went into a fresh bout of sobs. “I understand how you feel, I’ve been there.” Namoriee took a shuddering breath, wiping her cheek. She met Leawyn’s eyes when her hand gently guided her face up to look at her.
“Tyronian is a mighty warrior, and a good man. He cares about you, and I know he wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt you,” her blue eyes turned firm. “He deserves a chance to prove that to you.”
Namoriee eyes filled with more tears, guilt flooding her. “I know that, it’s just…” she trailed off, turning her eyes away.
She couldn’t explain it. Everything Leawyn said was true, and Namoriee knew that he cared about her, but she couldn’t help the feel
ing of fear every time she thought about him. Or the resentment. She deserved the chance to make the decision to marry him because she wanted it. He took her choice away, and it was because of that it made it difficult for her to look past it.
Even if her heart yearns for his affection with equal vigor as her dread.
“You don’t need to explain it to me.”
Namoriee looked up at that. Leawyn’s gaze told her that she understood where she was coming from more than anyone else possibly could of. She followed her gaze to Xavier, who must have gone back to the pin sometime during her episode. Leawyn’s gaze turned soft, eyes reflecting the love that Namoriee will never understand.
“All I ask is that you try to look past the feeling you think you should have, and search for the ones that you already do. Those are the ones that matter.”
Leawyn stood, offering her hand to help her up. She smoothed back a piece of her chocolate hair before cupping her cheek.
“If you truly wish to continue with your duties, I won’t refute. But you aren’t my handmaiden, simply my cousin who I spend time with throughout the day. Okay?”
Namoriee sighed in relief, a weight lifting off her chest. “Thank you,” she whispered gratefully. Leawyn waved her off.
“I love you, Namoriee. You were never just a handmaiden to me.”
Namoriee looked around, wanting to change the subject now that the panic she felt had subsided, and now embarrassment was taking its place. “Where’s Xillik?” she asked when she couldn’t him.
Namoriee’s eyes followed the direction Leawyn pointed to. Xillik was in a different pin with Deydrey, who didn’t seem at all bothered at the toddler who was trying to catch her tail as it swished back and forth.
“I promised him a ride after Xavier was done with Knox, though from the looks over it, it may be awhile.” Leawyn said in amusement. They both turned their attention to the round pin.
Knox was the yearling that was product of Leawyn’s mare, Deydrey and Xavier’s great war horse, Killix; notorious for his stubborn, and wild personality; he was always one to cause mischief.
“How’s the training going?”
She watched as Knox pounced around proudly in a fast circle, head held high and defiant against the long rope attached to his halter that Xavier held as he rode him.
Suddenly, Knox stopped, attempting to throw Xavier off as hopped sideways, before rearing. Xavier was quick to respond, yanking Knox’s rope to the side, forcing his nose toward his hindquarters.
“Not well, apparently.” Leawyn said drily once Xavier gained control of Knox again.
Namoriee grinned. “He’s so much like Killix already. I’m sure Xavier is happy.”
“I don’t think there will ever be a greater horse than Killix,” Leawyn whispered. “But I am happy to know his son. I know only the best warrior would be reincarnated inside Knox.”
It is the Samaritan’s belief that once a great warrior dies, they are then reincarnated into a horse. Their history tells of a great warrior Saviero and Ianna, the Goddess that had cursed him to roam the land as a horse when he had broken his promise and fallen in love with another. Saviero had died when a terrible foe had tried to kill the woman he loved. Ianna was so moved by his sacrifice, she had turned him back into a man and promised that any warrior who showed the same heart that Saviero did, they would be reborn to serve another great warrior.
“Momma! Look!”
Leawyn looked over at Xillix, her smile dying when she saw what he was about to do. He had gotten bored of Deydrey and had migrated to where they kept the colts. One of which he was reaching out to pet.
“Xillix, no!”
Too late.
Namoriee opened the door to the healer’s hut so that Leawyn could walk through first. The familiar scent of fresh herbs, ointment, and sage greeted her senses. She had spent many of her days here in this hut. Before she was Leawyn’s lady-in-waiting, Namoriee was the healer’s assistant.
“Aggod?” Leawyn’s worried tone had Namoriee looking up, and she frowned at how pale the old healer was.
“Aggod, are you well?” Namoriee rushed over to her when she went to stand from her bed and faltered.
Though it was never spoken that she was her apprentice, Aggod taught her all that she could. She would often explain what she was doing or tell her which herb would be used for which ailment. She was as sharp, and stern as a thorn, but she treated her kindly. It worried her to see how ill she looked.
“I’m fine,” Aggod wheezed, batting away Namoriee’s hand when she went to feel her forehead with a frown. “Stop yer stressing idiot girl, I’m fine?”
Her response would have been more reassuring if she hadn’t of broken out into a coughing fit directly after. She frowned.
“You feel warm,” Namoriee said, ignoring Aggod’s attempt to escape her. “How long have you been like this?”
“I said I’m fine! Now let me up. Can’t you see I have a patient?” Aggod grouched and went to stand up.
“You aren’t!” Namoriee scowled and pushed her back down. She matched the healer’s glare with a stern one of her own. “How many times have you told me that a fever, no matter how mild, is dangerous? You’re going to rest, even if I have to stay here and tie you down to see.”
“Now listen here, girl, I don’t take orders—” Aggod started to cough violently, her withered body meandering to the side at the force. The cup of water Namoriee handed her noticeably wobbled when Aggod brought it to her lips.
Namoriee and Leawyn shared a worried look with each other.
“Please Aggod, rest. I’m worried for you.”
Aggod looked over at her, and her expression must have convinced her, because she sighed. “Fine,” she said in defeat. “But as the head healer, I’m telling you I’m fine.”
“I’m sure,” Namoriee smiled, helping her get comfortable as Aggod laid down. She let out a tired sigh, and it only took a few moments for her to fall asleep. Namoriee stood, walking over to Leawyn.
“I don’t like how sickly she looks,” Leawyn whispered, her eyes soft with concern.
Namoriee looked over at the sleeping form of Aggod, noticing how uneasy her breathing was. She felt the same worry as Leawyn. Aggod had been the Izayges one and only healer for many years, and she was only second in age to the village elder, who was remarkably seventy winters. If something were to happen to her…
“I’m going to stay with her,” Namoriee decided, looking back to Leawyn. “She’s a stubborn old bat, and an even worse patient.”
Leawyn smiled. “I’m sure that will be wise.” Her smile dimmed slightly, and she shot a look at Namoriee that made her feel nervous. “What about Tyronian?”
Namoriee looked away. “There’s no telling when he’ll be back. Besides,” Namoriee said, turning back to Leawyn, “I doubt he’ll care.” She looked down to Xillik.
“I can look after him, I know that’s why you came in here. Though, I think he’s fine, minus a nasty bruise.”
They hadn’t managed to stop Xillik in time, and as a result he had been bitten on the arm. Luckily, the colt hadn’t put that much pressure into the bite, but it still terrified Xillik.
Leawyn gave Namoriee a look that ensured her that she knew she was purposefully diverting her attention, but a mother’s worry was too great of a distraction. Leawyn’s softened when she looked down to her son, brushing the wisps of blonde curls away from his forehead.
“I overreacted, I know,” Leawyn said, watching as Xillik blinked sleepily. He looked moments away from falling asleep. “Did you know my father never taught how me to ride?”
Namoriee’s eyes bulged in surprise. “What?” She choked, “but how? I mean, you ride so well. How is it possible if you never…” Leawyn smiled at her sputtering, amused.
“I found Deydrey on the beach when I was a child,” Leawyn explained. “Her leg was broken. I think she was abandoned by her herd; left to die, either by other wild animals, or starvation, but I found her. Asten, he…h
e wanted to kill her. Said the best thing to do for her was put her out of her misery.” Leawyn smiled softly, her eyes lost in her memory.
“I begged him not, too. I told him that if he were to kill her, it would be as if he was taking my life, too. He never liked to see me cry...” Leawyn smile dimmed, and her eyes flared with pain. “He helped me train her. Taught me everything he knew. She hasn’t left my side since,” Leawyn finished quietly. She stared off in the distance, sorrowfully. She was brought out of her trance when Namoriee gripped her hand in comfort.
“Sorry,” Leawyn wiped away her tears, embarrassed.
“He was different then, wasn’t he?”
“Yes,” Leawyn replied, voice hollow, “he was.”
“Would you…would you like to tell me some stories about him?” She asked tentatively.
Leawyn looked over her shoulder to Aggod, clearly conflicted.
“You won’t disturb her. I promise.”
Leawyn looked down to Xillix, who had fallen asleep sometime during their exchange, before meeting her eyes again.
“I would like to know,” Namoriee admitted, “I only know one part of him. It would nice to know the other, too. More than that, I think you need this, my lady. So, please,” she turned, sitting down on the chair around the fire, gesturing for Leawyn to do the same. “How did you get Deydrey to safety if her leg was broken?”
“It wasn’t easy,” Leawyn chuckled quietly, rearranging Xillix once she sat down. “First, we had to figure out where to put her…”
“Do you know where your wife is right now?”
Tyronian’s brow rose. He had just got back to the tribe after successfully driving back the wanderers who tried to encroach on their land. He was tired, and hungry and just about to sit down for the evening meal, but before he could even think about sliding into his seat, Leawyn was there, hands on her hips, and a glare-of-death on her face.