How The Warrior Fell (Falling Warriors series Book 1)

by Nicole René

  “I actually only woke you so that you may watch over Xavier while I get some fresh air,” Leawyn explained.

  Hassef looked up at her and frowned. “I should escort you then, Lady Chief. You shouldn’t be walking in the dark alone.”

  Leawyn shook her head. “That will not be necessary, Hassef. I’ll be perfectly fine on my own, and I’m not going to go far,” Leawyn reassured.

  When Hassef opened his mouth to disagree, Leawyn gave him a stern look. “You will allow me to walk by myself, and I will allow my memory to escape me and forget you were asleep on your watch post.”

  Hassef closed his mouth with a snap, glowering at her. “Not fair,” he mumbled, shoulders slumping.

  Leawyn smiled in triumph, patting his cheek lightly. “That’s the spirit! Now, go on, I’ll return shortly.”

  Hassef sighed in resignation and started towards the tent. He turned around and gave her a strict look. “Be careful, and do not wander far, Lady Chief, I mean it.”

  Leawyn rolled her eyes and fluttered her hands over her shoulder. “Yes, yes, I know.”

  Leawyn slowly made her way to where the horses were. She made sure her footsteps were silent so she didn’t wake the warriors scattered about the camp. Many would not be as kind as Hassef and would actually make her go back into the safety of her tent.

  When she was a few steps away from the horses, both Killix and Deydrey lifted their heads. When they saw her, they gave her a soft knicker in hello, reaching their nose towards her. Leawyn smiled and quickened her steps towards them until she was able to rest her hands on their soft muzzles.

  “Hello, you two, miss me?”

  Deydrey nudged her with her nose, while Killix blew warm breath on top of her head, causing her to laugh.

  “I’ll take that as a yes then!” She smiled, taking turns in petting Deydrey and Killix, both of which were fighting for her attention.

  Since the night Xavier was attacked and brought back on Killix’s back, Leawyn and Killix became fast friends. Killix seemed to take an interest in her, and she was the only one besides his master he allowed to touch him willingly.

  The first couple of days he was the watch guard instead of one of Xavier’s men, for he refused to leave his master alone. Leawyn was sure he would have stayed outside the tent the entire time Xavier was sick if she hadn’t walked outside and made him stay with the other horses.

  Even still, Leawyn would sometimes catch him sticking his head into the tent to say hello and watch over Leawyn and Xavier.

  Leawyn shook her head in amusement at the memory, giving Killix a hard pat on his muscled neck before pulling her hand away. Killix turned his attention to Deydrey, nipping her side and causing her to kick her hind leg and whip her head around to nip him back. (Though she was a bit more aggressive with the “nip.”)

  If Leawyn didn’t know any better, she swore she saw Killix smirk.

  Great. My husband’s horse has a crush on my horse.

  Leawyn rolled her eyes, stepping away from them in case things got more aggressive and not just playful.

  Leawyn shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. She looked up at the sky. It had gotten increasingly colder, the ice surrounding the grass in the morning suggesting winter was fast approaching, and with it, snow.

  Leawyn jumped when something smooth and warm was draped over her shoulders. Tristan moved out from behind her and stood by her side.

  “Thank you,” Leawyn said softly, pulling the wool cloak closer to her body. He nodded in response and turned his attention to watch the horses.

  They stood together in silence, watching Killix and Deydrey interact before the silence was broken by Tristan’s husky chuckle.

  Leawyn titled her head to look over at Tristan. “What?” she asked, smiling.

  Tristan nodded at the two horses. “Looks like Killix has a crush.”

  Leawyn looked over at Killix and Deydrey again. She watched as Killix came behind Deydrey and grabbed her long tail and pulled back, jumping away and throwing his head when Deydrey responded by pinning her ears back and turning to bite him.

  Leawyn laughed when Killix just trotted to Deydrey’s side and blew on her ears.

  “It seems you’re right,” Leawyn agreed, smiling at the stallion’s antics. “Let’s hope for Deydrey’s sake Killix isn’t like his master in the ways of wooing women,” she added dryly.

  Tristan gave a short laugh. “Yes, I hope so too. But from the looks of things, he is very much like him.”

  “Poor Deydrey.”

  Tristan smirked again, turning his attention away from the two horses and over to Leawyn instead.

  “You should go back to the tent. It’s supposed to snow tonight.”

  Though he said it casually, Leawyn knew it was an order. She nodded, too tired to argue, and turned around, making her way back to the tent.

  Leawyn was close to crying in frustration. It had been almost two and a half weeks, and Xavier’s health showed almost no signs of improvement. It was a miracle he survived this long.

  And with reasons unknown to her, that scared her.

  Leawyn scowled to herself, wiping Xavier’s shoulder a bit harsher than needed.What did she care if he died? If he died, Tristan would take command over the tribe and she would be free of her bonds tying her to Xavier.She would be free again.She should be happy, hopeful even, begging the Gods and Goddesses to take his life.

  Yet, she was not.

  It was extremely confusing, and it pissed her off.

  Leawyn summed it up to her being a nice person. She’d always been too kind for her own good, according to Brees.

  She pulled her hand away and dipped the now warm cloth back into the cool water that was mixed with healing leaves. She reached over and touched the cloth to his arrow wound, gently swiping it around the infected area, making sure to dip it back into the clean water to wash it away before repeating the process.

  She was leaning over to soak the rag with the healing water again when her wrist was snatched up by a heated hand. The grip was tight, but not as tight as it used to be.

  Leawyn gasped, her heart leaping to her throat as she stared down into the dark, glazed eyes of her husband.

  “Xavier . . . ?” she asked, her voice shaky.

  Xavier remained silent, staring at her with feverish eyes. She wasn’t sure if he even saw her, or if he was sucked up in the hallucinations of fever.

  His eyes shifted to the rag Leawyn still held in her hand. Slowly, he looked back into her wide blue eyes.

  The tent was dark, the only light coming from the burning fire in the room.

  “Why are you doing this?” His voice was raspy and weak, so much different than his usual deep, commanding baritone.

  Xavier didn’t expect an answer, and instead was ready to accept the blackness that was slowly surrounding his vision, but then he heard her soft voice answering his loaded question in a whisper.

  “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

  Leawyn met his eyes bravely as Xavier slowly released his grasp on her wrist. He watched her as she continued her task and carefully dabbed at his arrow wound with the medicine.

  The only sounds were the cracking of the fire and the soft splash of a rag dipping in and out of water.

  Over the next couple days, Xavier’s health slowly returned under the care of Leawyn.

  After that first night, he woke up only a handful of times. When he did, it wasn’t for very long, and he didn’t speak. Often times, Xavier would wake up when Leawyn was changing the bandages on his shoulder. He would also wake without her knowing, and would simply watch her as she went about her business.

  But he almost always woke when she was singing.

  Even though his health was improving enough to know he would survive, Leawyn never left his side. The only time she did was to relieve herself, or when Tristan and Tyronian would force her to.

  The next time Xavier woke, it was his brother watching him instead of Leawyn.

 
“Tristan.”

  Tristan made his way quickly over to the bed, kneeling by his brother.

  “Brother!” Tristan sighed in obvious relief, looking him over. “How are you faring?”

  Xavier shifted, holding back his wince when he moved his still tender shoulder. “I’ve been better, but I’ll live to see another day,” Xavier told Tristan, making him chuckle.

  “No doubt thanks to Leawyn,” Tristan told him, studying Xavier’s face. “She never left your side.”

  Xavier swallowed, turning his eyes away from Tristan’s and up at the tent ceiling. He was lost in thought for a few moments.

  “She’s different. She . . . confuses me,” Xavier reluctantly told his brother, not meeting his eyes.

  “She is a different creature, that is for certain,” Tristan agreed with a chuckle.

  Xavier didn’t respond, and it grew quiet between the two of them for a while before Tristan spoke again. “She has taken Killix under her care while you were sick.”

  Xavier looked at Tristan sharply, and Tristan grinned at his expression. “Killix is quite taken with her, maybe even more so than he is with her mare.”

  Xavier grimaced, turning his head away. His stallion mating with Leawyn’s mare was the last thing he needed.

  “Don’t worry; Dreydey isn’t as welcoming to his attentions as Leawyn is.”

  Xavier allowed a small smirk to appear on his face. He had no doubt Killix wouldn’t accept rejection for very long. He was his horse, after all.

  Xavier sobered, looking to his brother. “What of my men?”

  Tristan did not need to say anything; Xavier knew by his facial expression he was the only one who had survived. Xavier looked away, clenching his teeth together tightly in rage.

  Many of those men were good men, loyal to Xavier. They had trusted in his leadership, and Xavier repaid them by leading them to their deaths.

  That fact alone brought a burning desire to kill something. Xavier did not like to let his men down. He did not make it a habit to be caught by surprise. He knew what to expect, and his battle strategies were legendary. It was the reason why the Izayges grew to be so powerful.

  Xavier turned his burning gaze to Tristan. “Observing is over. They declared where they stand when they attacked me and my men,” he growled out roughly, his glare heated by his rage and vengeance.

  “What will you have me do?”

  “Gather the men and tell them to get ready to ride back out to the village,” he ordered, frowning in thought. “Leave some men behind here, the rest travel back.”

  Tristan stood. “I’ll tell Tyronian to ready the men.”

  Xavier nodded, settling himself more comfortably as exhaustion set in. Just before Tristan was going to exit the tent, he called out to him. “Tristan.”

  Tristan paused, looking over his shoulder to meet his brother’s eyes.

  “We might have to tell the others.”

  Tristan raised his eyebrow, rotating his body so he was once again facing his brother. “You think it will come to that point?”

  Xavier nodded, his eyes flashing to a memory only he could see.

  Tristan sighed, turned back and exited the tent. The Izayges were the unofficial protectors of the tribes, since they were the most battle trained. Very rarely did they have to call upon other tribes.

  But these men were dangerous. More than that, they were threat.

  LEAWYN MADE HER way back towards the tent from her visit with the horses. She shivered, pulling her wool cloak closer to her slim body. The snow had begun to take over the land, creating a soft, cold blanket for everything it touched.

  Snow had always been beautiful to Leawyn, however bitter the cold was. She wanted to make sure the weather didn’t affect Xavier’s health; his fever had only just broken, and he was finally beginning to regain some of his strength back. She didn’t want him to regress.

  Leawyn hurried as best she could through the snow with that last thought. She stopped, letting out an irritated hiss when her feet slipped and she landed on her bottom in the cold ice.

  Grumbling to herself, she pushed herself up and tried to wipe the excess snow off her. Once she was satisfied, she let out a sharp whistle.

  A moment passed before Leawyn heard a soft neigh and the sound of hooves crunching against the slush as they made their way to her.

  Leawyn turned around and watched in amusement as Deydrey trudged through the snow to her, followed by her recent shadow, Killix.The mare blew on Leawyn’s face when she finally reached her. Killix came trotting proudly next to her a second after, also greeting her.Deydrey pinned her ears back, turning her head sideways to nip at Killix before swiftly pulling her head back so the eager stallion couldn’t return the favor.

  Leawyn rolled her eyes and pet Deydrey. “Easy, girl.”

  Deydrey let out another snort, bending her neck so she could rest her nose on Leawyn’s chest. Leawyn scratched her behind the ears a bit before she pulled her hand away.

  “Mind giving me a ride? I’m afraid my legs aren’t as strong against the snow as yours are,” Leawyn told Deydrey lightly, giving her one last pat on the neck before she stepped away.

  Deydrey shook out her mane before she bent her neck low and kneeled with her two front legs on the ground, bowing so Leawyn could climb on her back easily.

  Leawyn hopped on, and only when she was settled comfortably did Deydrey spring up and start to make her way towards camp at Leawyn’s gentle urging. Killix followed faithfully behind.

  Leawyn held onto Deydrey’s grey mane lightly, enjoying the gentle sway of Deydrey’s relaxed walk. She looked up when the sounds of the camp reached her ears and stared in surprise to see some of the men packing up their things.

  “Whoa,” Leawyn said softly, hopping off Deydrey when she came to an immediate stop at the softly spoken word.

  “Go on now,” Leawyn told Deydrey, waving both her hands in a “shoo” manner. Deydrey threw her head as she turned away and loped off the way she came, her white and grey coat easily disappearing within the snow.

  Killix seemed to be debating whether to follow Deydrey or Leawyn. Turning his head, he looked in the direction Deydrey had cantered off to before swinging his muscled neck back to face Leawyn.

  Killix was just like his master, and though Leawyn found it amusing, she also found herself worrying for Deydrey.

  The poor mare didn’t stand a chance.

  “Oh, go on. I’ll be fine, and I don’t want to listen to your worrying,” Leawyn told Killix in exasperated amusement.

  Killix’s ears flickered up towards her before they bent down as he listened, no doubt for the faraway sounds of the mare. He seemed to debate for a moment more before he swiftly turned and trotted his way proudly in Deydrey’s direction.

  Leawyn smiled after him for a moment then turned her attention back to the encampment. She frowned. They definitely were packing up, but where were they headed?

  Leawyn’s eyes searched for the familiar faces of her cousin and brother-in-law. Her eyebrows perked up when she caught a flash of blond hair that could only belong to one person besides herself.

  “Tyronian!”

  Tyronian stopped what he was doing and scanned the camp. He smiled when his eyes rested on Leawyn and he uncaringly dropped the supplies he was holding , ignoring the grunt of irritation and glare a soldier gave him as Tyronian made his way over to her.

  “Hello, beautiful! Finally decide to ditch your husband and come to me, have you?” Tyronian grinned shamelessly, wiggling his eyebrows. Leawyn laughed in amusement, used to Tyronian’s playful flirting.

  “I’m afraid not, good sir. I came simply to ask a question.”

  He frowned in mock disappointment. “Well, that’s no good.”

  Leawyn giggled, making Tyronian smile at the sound. He heaved a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging. “I suppose since you have not come to accept my offer, I have no choice but to answer the question you have come to ask me.”

  Leawyn motioned he
r chin at the movement around the camp. “What’s going on?”

  Tyronian sighed yet again, taking off his own cloak and wrapping it around Leawyn’s shoulders as he answered her. “We’re packing up. Most of us are going back to the village while some men stay here to keep a lookout.”

  Leawyn frowned. “Who gave the order?” she asked, pulling Tyronian’s big cloak closer to her body to snuggle into the warmth.

  “Tristan did.”

  Leawyn’s frown deepened as her eyes narrowed in thought. “Xavier isn’t strong enough to travel. Why would he give such an order?”

  Tyronian shrugged, not having the answer. “Perhaps you should ask him.”

  “Don’t worry, I will,” Leawyn snapped, her face scrunched in an adorable look of irritation only a woman could express. Tyronian wisely kept that thought to himself, though, and instead pointed to the direction he saw Tristan last.

  “He went that way,” Tyronian told Leawyn, a little too gleefully.

  “Thank you, Tyronian.” Leawyn nodded, patting his corded forearm before she held onto the cloak and trudged off in the direction Tyronian had pointed.

  “Let me know if you get cold at night, I’ll happily warm you up!” Tyronian called after her, chuckling at the way she waved at him over her shoulder. Tyronian sighed, resting his knuckles against both his hips.

  “Poor Tristan.” Tyronian chuckled to himself, shaking his head at the image of the little spitfire confronting his cousin.

  “Did you give the order for the men to pack camp and move out?” Leawyn demanded, crossing her arms as she stopped behind Tristan.

  Her brother-in-law sighed as he finished tying the dried meat into a straw sack before he turned around to face her.

  “Yes.”

  Leawyn narrowed her eyes. “Why would you do that?” she demanded, turning her body sideways as Tristan walked past her to the other side of the cluster of trees they were in and grabbed another straw sack.

  “Because I can, and it’s what we need to do.” Tristan threw the bag at his feet and kneeled down to start putting more food into it.