by Nicole René
HOW THE WARRIOR FELL
Copyright © 2016 Nicole René
All rights reserved.
Editing by: Indie Solutions
www.murphyrae.net
Author and series branding/logo by: © Hang Le
www.byhangle.com
Interior Design & Formatting by: Perfectly Publishable
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Cover design by: © Kari Ayasha Cover to Cover designs
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Front cover photography by: © Joel Hicks Photography
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Models: Joel Hicks and Tillie Feather
All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted to any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or locales are used factiously. Other names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
HOW THE WARRIOR FELL
DEDICATION
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
CHAPTER FIFTY
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
EPILOGUE
EXCERPT of How The Warrior Claimed
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To my family.
(Yes, you still have to skip over the sex scenes. Especially you, Grandma.)
“LEAWYN?”
The girl sighed softly, sitting up from her prone position and turning her cerulean eyes towards the voice that called her name.
“Leawyn, where are you?” The voice shouted her name again, the tone more irked and frustrated than it was before. Leawyn stood, pushing a wayward strand of long, golden hair away from her face and started to make her way down to her handmaiden, Brees.
“Leawyn, if you do not come here right now, I’ll—”
“I’m here, Brees,” Leawyn called out, her voice soft and melodic as she rounded the corner of the small cove she was resting in. At the sound of Leawyn’s voice, Brees whirled around to face her, a disapproving frown in place.
“Where have you been? I have been looking everywhere for you!” Brees said sharply, snatching Leawyn by the wrist angrily when she was within distance.
“I was just—”
“I don’t want to hear it!” Brees snapped, interrupting Leawyn mid-sentence. “I don’t know how many times I’ve told you to not wander off when you have so much work to do.”
Leawyn stayed silent, knowing that provoking Brees wouldn’t do her any good as she was dragged up the sandy hill and back towards their village.
Brees had been her handmaiden for as long as she could remember. Though, in Leawyn’s eyes, Brees was more of a mother to her since her own mother died giving birth to her.
“What’s the hurry, Brees?” Leawyn asked, a bit amused by the woman’s pace. She practically had to jog to keep alongside her fussy handmaiden.
Brees huffed, looking over her shoulder at Leawyn. “Have you forgotten?” Brees asked in her strange accent.
Brees wasn’t born in the Rhoxolani like Leawyn was and instead came to their humble village when Brees was just a young girl traveling with a band of sea merchants. It was here, in the Rhoxolani tribe,that Brees met and fell in love with a young Rhoxolani warrior whom she later married.
Gwan, unfortunately, was slain during one of the many tribe battles between the Izayges and Rhoxolani.
Leawyn’s brows knitted together in confusion at her handmaiden’s impatience. She couldn't think of anything particularly special about today. She woke up and did her chores just like any other day. Then she went out to the cliffs to sit and enjoy time to herself.
Was she supposed to do something else?
Leawyn smiled guiltily at Brees when she looked over her shoulder at Leawyn’s silence. “For Goddess’s sakes, Leawyn! You were told earlier today!”
Leawyn thought about telling Brees she had no idea what she was talking about. No one told Leawyn anything. But, judging by the annoyed scowl on Brees’s face,she’d be better off keeping that tidbit of information to herself.
They reached the main hut, and a few moments later, Brees opened the flap to Leawyn’s room and ushered her in. Leawyn watched as Brees went to her chest of gowns and searched through them, shoving a soft, pale blue dress into her handsmoments later.
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Leawyn asked, looking down to her modest brown gown.
At Brees’s annoyed glare, Leawyn wisely didn’t argue further and instead put on the garment. The color of the dress brought out Leawyn’s eyes and made her golden hair that much brighter. It had a sweetheart neckline with long sleeves that tightly gripped Leawyn’s arms before flaring out at her elbows. It was long, covering Leawyn’s dainty feet and brushing the floor with each step she took.
Once Leawyn was done changing, Brees guided her to the stool in the middle of the room. Pushing down on Leawyn’s shoulders, Brees reached around her and grabbed Leawyn’s brush and began combing her long hair.
It was silent between them for a few minutes before Brees spoke. “Leawyn, you do know what tonight is, don’t you?”
Leawyn hesitated, pulling a loose string from her dress before she answered. “I’m sorry, Brees, I truly have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Leawyn turned and looked over her shoulder when Brees suddenly stopped brushing her hair. She grew slightly worried by the way Brees looked at her. It was as if she were about to tell Leawyn a terrible secret.
“No one told
you?” Brees breathed out in shocked horror.
“Tell me what?”
“Oh, Leawyn,” Brees said tenderly as she ran the back of her hand down Leawyn’s unblemished cheek. Her eyes misted over as she looked down into the innocent eyes of her mistress.
“Leawyn . . . your father received word this morning. The Izayges Chief grew tired of waiting and sent word that he would be arriving early.” Brees paused again, hesitant. “That was six days ago.”
Leawyn felt herself growing faint at the implications of what Brees was saying.
“No,” Leawyn whispered, her eyes filling with panicked tears as she shook her head in denial. “I’m supposed to have until the winter. We weren’t supposed to meet until the leaves fall!”
“Leawyn, he’s arriving tonight,” Brees informed her gently, as if her heart were breaking at the pain and dread that flashed across Leawyn’s young face.
Leawyn’s world froze, the icy fingers of dread gripped her heart. Tonight, her world would change forever.
Tonight, she would meet Xavier, the chief of the Izayges.
The man who was the most dangerous and fiercest warrior in Samaritan history.
Her betrothed.
Xavier stared out at the village before him as he sat atop his stallion, Killix. His emotionless face gave nothing away of the disgust he was feeling as he and his party traveled with him to meet with the Rhoxolani’s chief and his daughter.
The daughter who was to become his wife.
Xavier held back his sigh. He did not want to get married, seeing it as a waste of time. He preferred the freedom he found in battle, and of taking common whores to satisfy his most primal desires. However, being the chief of the Izayges meant protecting his village, and the demand of breeding heirs was a priority. At thirty-two, Xavier was the strongest and fiercest warrior in Izayges history.
What was he to do with a wife?
Xavier’s eyes narrowed as his party grew closer to the little tribe that was the Rhoxolani. Their village was small—no more than a hundred people living there. The smell of the ocean permeated the air, the aroma growing more prominent with each passing moment they drew closer. The Rhoxolani were known to be light in every aspect. From their hair and skin to their light-colored eyes.
They were nothing like his tribe, which was big and over four hundred strong. Unlike the Rhoxolani, the Izayges had an air of danger around them, and did not come across as friendly. Rightfully so. They were a strong, fierce, and dangerous people.
It was no wonder the last marriage between his tribe and the Rhoxolani’s did not work out.
The long fueled grudge between the two tribes started when the first marriage proposal between the Izayges and the Rhoxolani was offered. Chienef, who was the son of the Izayges chief, was set to marry Lyrical, daughter of the Rhoxolani chief. Chienef had caught his bride-to-be with another man on the night of their wedding. Furious over the betrayal, Chienef killed his betrothed and her lover. He accused the Roxolani people of being dishonorable, and a vicious battle took place between the two tribes, never again to attempt to form another allegiance through marriage.
Until now, that is.
Xavier held back his grin at the thought and instead looked over to his second in command, Tristan.
“We make haste to the village. I want to arrive when there is yet sunlight,” Xavier ordered, barely taking in Tristan’s nod of understanding before he kicked his horse into a gallop.
It was time to meet his future wife.
XAVIER AND HIS small party, which included his fellow warriors and brother, arrived just as the sun was to make way for the moon. Xavier’s horse skidded to a stop in front of a big, blonde man who lifted his arms high in welcome, a smile stretching across his chubby face.
“Ah! Welcome to Rhoxolani, Chief Xavier!” the man shouted merrily. “I am Boers, chief of this tribe.” The chief hit himself in the chest and tilted his head down in greeting.
“Our horses need hay and water. I want to see your daughter before we marry. I don’t plan on lingering here longer than I have to,” Xavier said, skipping niceties and getting straight to the point. He stared Boers down through the fringe of his hair once he dismounted from Killix.
Boers seemed a bit put off by Xavier’s dismissal, his jolly expression slipping before he caught himself, and his smile appeared on his face once again. “Of course, we will make sure all is taken care of,” Boers promised. Turning to look behind him, he motioned his hand forward to the stable boys waiting.
“These boys will take your horses to our stables for you,” Boers told Xavier as the boys ran up to them. When one tried to take hold of Xavier’s reins, he found his wrist quickly snatched before he made contact with the leather.
The boy stared up at Xavier in fear, while Boers looked to Xavier in shock. Xavier stared back, his emotionless eyes giving nothing away.
“We prefer to take care of our own horses,” Xavier explained. “If the boys can just show us where we may board them.”
Boers gave a nervous nod, signaling for the stable boys to show them the way. Xavier released the wrist he was holding, and the boy quickly rushed past him to follow the others. Tristan walked past him leading both his and Xavier’s horse and Xavier’s eyes followed him for a moment before they cut back to Boers, who didn't look as jolly as he had before and instead seemed nervous. Xavier held in his grin.
“Your daughter?” Xavier reminded.
Boers snapped to attention, meeting Xavier’s gaze and giving him a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Yes, of course. This way,” Boers said, holding his hand out toward the large hut stationed at the very top of the hill. “Come, I will take you to her.”
Leawyn stared down at herself in the basin of water, her sea-blue eyes taking in her hair that fell around her heart-shaped face in thick, long waves. She touched her cheek and trailed her fingertips down to her pale pink lips. Leawyn sighed and swiped the water in the basin roughly to erase her reflection.
Her head snapped up at the sound of footfalls coming towards her room.
Oh Gods, they’re coming, she thought. Moments later, the flap separating her room from the rest of the hut swung aside and in stepped her father and betrothed. She gasped softly when the man’s cold brown eyes met hers.
Xavier kept his merciless eyes focused on her as he stood to his full six-foot-six height. His coal-colored hair brushed the tops of his broad shoulders, spread wide against his defined chest. His arms were bunched with muscles as they rested against his sides. The rumors she heard revolving around this man were all true, Leawyn realized, because looking at him now, all she could think of was danger.
Leawyn could still feel the heavy weight of Xavier’s gaze as she looked over to her father, who spoke suddenly, breaking the tense silence.
“Daughter, this is your betrothed, Xavier,” Boers said nervously as he glanced toXavier before looking at her again. “Chief of the Izayges.”
Leawyn looked to Xavier again, the heat of his gaze making her uncomfortable. She lowered her head, dipping her body slightly at the waist in greeting.
Xavier continued to study her, raking his eyes up and down her body slowly. She felt even smaller in front of him. As discreetly as possible, Leawyn peeked up at him and studied him much like he did her.
His broad chest was bare, and he wore dark breeches that looked to be made of some type of tough animal skin, similar to leather. She could only spot three noticeable weapons on his person, but she doubted it was all he had on him. He had a sword that was long and wickedly curved strapped to his back, and another long, thick, straight blade hung down from the side of his waist. On the other side of his hip, Leawyn could see the hilt of a dagger peaking out of the waistband of his breeches. She glanced at his arms. They were massive. She looked down, heart rate spiking.
He was terrifying.
“Leave us,” Xavier demanded gruffly. His deep voice caused the demand to come out more like a growl. Leawyn fe
lt her eyes widen, glancing at her father in fear.
Don’t leave me, Leawyn thought.
Her father shifted uncomfortably, but nodded his head. “Of course.” He bowed to Xavier. Giving his daughter one last apologetic look, he turned and lifted open the flap of the tent, leaving Xavier and Leawyn alone.
Leawyn lowered her eyes back to the ground, her chest tight with dread. She heard Xavier move closer to her, and she took a halting breath against the nervousness that seemed to choke her and keep her body paralyzed.
“Tell me your name, girl,” Xavier demanded, staring down at her small form. She was tiny compared to him. He easily towered over her.
Leawyn felt herself bristle slightly at his tone.He didn’t ask, he commanded.
“Leawyn,” she answered softly, proud her voice didn’t come out as shaky as she thought it would.
Xavier’s expressionless mask twisted into an angry scowl.
“Look at me,” Xavier growled, his voice low. When Leawyn’s eyes failed to meet his fast enough, he reached down and gripped her chin and jerked her face up to look at him.
“Your gaze will always meet my own,” he told her sternly, staring down into her wide eyes. “You will only have eyes for me, do you understand?”
Leawyn’s feelings of fear quickly turned into annoyance. “Shall I call you master while I’m at it?” she asked sardonically, glaring at him defiantly. She wasn’t prepared for the sharp jerk he gave her chin as he forced her to tilt her face up higher.
“I do not appreciate the attitude, Leawyn. You will do well to remember who exactly you are talking to, and you will respect me,” Xavier growled down at her, yanking her chin up yet again, and causing a whimper of pain to escape from her.
“Now, do you understand?” he asked again. When she went to give him a nod, he tightened his grip on her before she could follow through with the motion. “The words, Leawyn. I want the words.”
“Yes!” Leawyn gasped out against his tight hold, staring up at him with wide, frightened eyes. “Yes, I understand!”
Leawyn rubbed her aching jaw as he let go of her abruptly. She took a few steps away from him hastily, trying to blink back the tears of pain and fear that clouded her eyes.