by Nicole René
Tyronian broke the shaft in half, grunting once in pain before throwing it down on the ground in disgust as Xavier pulled his bow over his shoulder, aimed, and let the arrow fly, hitting its mark dead-on.
“Whoever shot me is going to pay,” Tyronian growled in annoyance, ripping his sword free from its scabbard with his other hand.
“Get the women and children to safety!” Xavier yelled out to the warriors around him, most of whom were already in the throes of battle. Xavier was rapidly shooting his arrows, one after the other, aiming for the archers on the other side
“I need to find Leawyn,” Xavier yelled to Tyronian as he reached for another arrow, swinging it back over his shoulder and yanking out his sword when he had none left.
Three men rushed them, each with swords raised high above their heads. They were wearing the same armor as the men who attacked Xavier the first time. Xavier and Tyronian wasted no time in dispatching them
“I need to find Namoriee,” Tyronian yelled back, dodging sideways as another man swung his sword at him. Not a second later, the attacker found himself dead on the floor.
“Go! I’ll find you when this is over.”
Xavier nodded before running and submerging himself in the heart of the battle, clinging desperately to the hope Leawyn was safe.
Leawyn had never been more scared in her life as she ran, dodging bodies everywhere. All around her was pandemonium. Men fighting against each other, the symphony of swords slamming against others, the yells of victory, pain, and the terrified screams of women would haunt Leawyn for the rest of her life.
She had to find Namoriee.
She had to get the children out of here.
More importantly, she needed to find Xavier.
A familiar scream had her head whipping to the right, her heart stuttering to a stop in horror.
Well, she found Namoriee.
Before Leawyn even registered what she was doing, her arrow was soaring through the air.
Leawyn ran to her friend, helping her push the corpse who had an arrow lodged in the nape of his neck off her. As soon as Namoriee was free, she scrambled back on her hands, staring at the dead body in shock.
“Get up, Namoriee!” Leawyn ordered, hauling her handmaiden to her feet. “We have to get out of here!”
Namoriee nodded quickly, and together they ran, trying desperately to maneuver past the fighting warriors.
They didn’t get very far.
XAVIER WAS IN his element.
His blades were a flurry of movement, striking down his enemies as effortlessly as breathing and leaving a trail of bodies with each step he took.
It was exhilarating, exciting, and Xavier loved every single second of it.
At least, he did, until he just happened to flicker his eyes upwards and to the left.
“What is she doing?” Xavier growled to himself, ducking from the spear aimed at his head distractedly. His eyes never left the scene a few feet away from him as he thrust his sword into the stomach of his attacker, discarding him to the side as if he were nothing more than trash.
There was Leawyn—and Namoriee, Xavier noticed—pointing the bow he gave her earlier that morning at a man who was twice her size.
As if she had a chance.
Xavier growled, attacking with a vengeance as he hurried his way to her. He hoped he’d get to her in time before she got herself killed.
Namoriee and Leawyn were running to what they hoped was safety, and then somehow she found herself a having a stare-off with a man who looked as if he’d never had a bath in his life.
It was comical, really, considering he had a hooked sword and all she had was her bow that was dangerously low on arrows.
“What you plannin’ on doing with that?” the man chuckled, grinning maliciously, his rotten teeth on full display.
Good question, Leawyn thought.
“You care to find out?” Leawyn challenged instead.
Their attacker blinked at her dumbly a moment before he let out a howl of laughter.
“I might just have to keep you,” he chuckled, eying Leawyn in consideration. “You and your friend sure are pretty. Too bad I have strict orders to take you to my leader.”
It was Leawyn’s turn to blink at him dumbly, faltering.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
The man’s grin grew, and Leawyn felt more nervous than she did before.
“I think you know the answer to that.”
Leawyn’s expression grew grim. They’d been watching the Izayges. Of course they know who she was.
Without any kind of warning, the man charged at Leawyn, his grubby hands reaching for her. Namoriee screamed as he tackled Leawyn to the ground, her arrow flying off course as she crashed with a grunt.
They grappled for a few seconds, Leawyn desperately trying to get away from him with no success.
“No!”
Namoriee came flying at the man, attacking him with all her strength. He grunted when she landed a fist to the side of his ear.
“Get her,” the man growled, annoyed, pushing Namoriee away from him and into the arms of another one of his men who came up to them. He stood and threw Leawyn’s struggling body over his shoulder.
“Namoriee!” Leawyn cried out when Namoriee’s captor struck her across the face, effectively knocking her out and ceasing her struggles.
“Let’s go,” Leawyn’s captor ordered. “We have what we came for.”
Leawyn’s heart seized in terror.
Something told her if she got taken now, Xavier wouldn’t be able to find her this time, and she’d never see him again. Leawyn struggled harder as they began to move swiftly away and back towards the trees they came out of.
“Leawyn!”
Leawyn’s head snapped up, her eyes landing on Xavier, who was frantically trying to fight his way over to her.
“Xavier!”
“Damn,” Leawyn’s kidnapper muttered when he turned to look over his shoulder and saw that Xavier was getting closer to them. “Take him out!”
Leawyn watched as more men rushed Xavier, causing him to stop his advance as he took them all on at the same time.
Leawyn was getting farther and farther away.
“Xavier!” she screamed, her voice ringing with panic and despair as she was thrown onto a horse sideways, her captor quickly hoping on behind her before she had the chance to throw herself off.
“Leawyn! No!” Xavier roared, viciously stabbing the men attacking him and shoving them away. His desperation to save her evident.
“XAVIER!”
But he was too late.
“No!”
All she could do was watch helplessly as Xavier got farther and farther away as her attacker rode off, taking her with him.
It seemed like days since Leawyn had been taken. The last time she saw Xavier kept replaying in her mind. The way he fought so desperately and ruthlessly to get to her. The look in his eyes when he realized he wouldn’t be able to do the one thing he promised he would always do . . . save her.
Leawyn’s eyes burned with tears. Her throat felt raw from her sobs, and she knew her eyes were swollen from the countless tears she shed. She tried to be strong, but the overwhelming pain and feeling of despair in her heart made it difficult for her to draw breath.
She wanted to go home.
She wanted to see Xavier again.
But the sinking feeling made it impossible to hope. How could Xavier find her when the army had managed to evade him all this time?
It was then Leawyn thought back to the moment Xavier first saved her. She could hear his voice as clearly as if he were right beside her.
“I knew that you’d come for me. I knew you’d save me.”
“Always.”
Leawyn snapped out of her daze as the horse below her skidded to a stop.
They had arrived. Leawyn was about to meet the leader, but it didn’t matter because it was at that moment she made a vow to herself.
This t
ime, she was going to save herself. This time . . . she was coming for Xavier.
And she was going lead him right to his base, right to this leader, and she was going to enjoy the moment when he destroyed them all.
“Let’s go,” her captor said, jerking her off the horse and holding her arm tightly, his grip bruising as he shoved her in front of him and caused her to stumble. Leawyn looked around, struggling mildly against his grip, as she tried to remember every aspect of where she was at.
It was hard to see anything because of how dark it was. But it looked like they were in between two mountains. Or at least deep underground. It was covered and secluded, and Leawyn remembered they traveled across water to get here. It would explain why Xavier had such a hard time finding them.
Leawyn gasped in pain when she was suddenly tossed forward, falling hard onto her knees. Without her hands to catch herself, which had been tied after they made leeway in their escape, she fell face forward.
“Now, that’s no way to treat our guest. Especially a beautiful lady.”
It felt like a blow to her stomach. She knew that voice.
Leawyn’s head snapped up, her face contorting in astonishment before rage took over.
“You!”
“YOU’RE THE TRAITOR?”
“Nice to see you too,” Tristan said, grabbing Leawyn’s arm and hauling her back up to her feet.
“Don’t touch me!”
“I’ll take her,” Tristan said to the man who had brought Leawyn, who was eyeing her with lust clear in his eyes. Leawyn shifted uncomfortably, moving closer to Tristan out of habit.
“What about her friend?” Leawyn stiffened. Her captor had looked at Namoriee with the same lust in his eyes he had now. Leawyn didn’t want Namoriee to be at the mercy of this vile man before her.
“Bind her in the tent set for them,” Tristan ordered. His voice grew stern and his eyes narrowed when he said, “If she is touched, you’ll be answering to me.”
The man straightened, and Leawyn could tell he didn’t appreciate taking orders, but nonetheless he nodded stiffly before walking away. Even with Tristan’s threat, Leawyn was worried about her friend.
“C’mon,” Tristan muttered, yanking Leawyn around.
“Don’t touch me!” Leawyn snapped, pulling at her arm as Tristan manhandled her. “The Rhoxolani were innocent! You murdered them! Why? How can you betray your own tribe? How can you betray Xavier?”
“Easily,” Tristan replied, ignoring her struggles.
“You’re despicable,” Leawyn snarled. “I should have let Xavier kill you.”
“Yes, you should have,” Tristan agreed, smirking.
They stopped in front of a dark grey tent that was significantly bigger than the others before Tristan turned and jerked her forward. He held her bound wrists long enough to cut the bonds before grabbing her arm again and shoving her inside the tent. The interior was simple; a desk situated in the back right corner, two closed trunks sitting across from the desk, and a large bed pallet covered with wool blankets.
“I said don’t touch me,” Leawyn said sharply, jerking her arm away from Tristan when he went to grab her.
“There was a time when you wished for my touch,” Tristan chuckled lowly. “I guess my brother broke you in just fine after all.”
“You bastard,” Leawyn hissed, incensed. “You don’t get to say his name! He’s not your brother anymore—you don’t deserve that title!”
“You know, I can’t help but think that if the other Rhoxolani’s had as much fight as you do, they might still be alive.”
Leawyn saw red.
Tristan easily caught Leawyn’s wrists when she went to attack him, holding her at bay. She could tell he enjoyed her thrashing as she tried to lash out at him, then he grew bored.
“I was hoping we could be pleasant, but I see now that was a dream, so you’ll have to forgive me.”
“What—” Leawyn started to say, but it was cut off when Tristan suddenly spun her around so her back met his front. Her scream was muffled when he placed his hand over her mouth and nose, pressing in tight. Cutting off her air supply.
“Shh,” Tristan soothed, holding her tight against her struggles. “Don’t fight it.”
Slowly, Leawyn’s thrashing weakened, and it wasn’t a moment later she felt herself slump against him, losing consciousness.
The battle created by the ambush was over. Bodies that were just moments before celebrating tradition were now lying on the ground and lifeless. Xavier surveyed his surroundings. The only small blessing of the Gods was that there seemed to be more of the enemy’s bodies littering the ground than his tribesmen. Xavier knelt, studying the corpse below him. He had never seen this man before. His skin was fair, and his eyes—frozen wide with death—were a dark brown color. Xavier reached over, turning the corpse’s neck to the side, revealing a strange mark carved into his skin. Three separate loops swirled close together to make one continuous swirl.
“What is that?”
“Symbols,” Xavier answered, grim. He stood up straight when Tyronian moved to stand beside him.
“Have you seen it before?” Tyronian asked, looking down at the fallen warrior.
“No,” Xavier frowned, “but they seem familiar.”
“I don’t get it,” Tyronian glowered, kicking the corpse once in his frustration. “Their numbers were too little. We outnumbered them, so why attack now? It doesn’t make sense. What do they want?”
Xavier swallowed, his chest aching as he thought about Leawyn. Of her reaching out to him, her eyes shining with terror and desperation to save her. He will never forget the look in her eyes when she realized he wouldn’t be able to. Xavier could only watch as the most important thing in the world to him was taken away.
“They have what they came for.”
Tyronian looked over to Xavier at his tone, his eyes narrowed. “Where’s Leawyn?” Xavier looked away and didn’t answer his cousin. “Xavier, where is Namoriee?” At Xavier’s continued silence, Tyronian jerked him forward. “Where is she?” Tyronian yelled.
“She’s gone. They took her.”
“What do you mean they took her? Why?”
“We’ll get them back, Tyronian.” Xavier stumbled back when Tyronian suddenly released him. His cousin turned away, a shaking hand coming to run through his blond locks. “How?” Tyronian turned back to Xavier, wearing the same lost expression on his face that reflected Xavier’s own. “How can we find them when we can’t even find their base?”
“I can’t tell you—” Tyronian scoffed, turning away again. “But trust that we will. I have a plan,” Xavier finished, as if Tyronian never interrupted him. “Tyronian.”
Tyronian stopped his aggravated pacing and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Do you love her? Your wife?”
“I’m incapable of love.” Xavier looked away, his teeth grinding together.
“She seems to think otherwise.”
“She’s wrong. I don’t love; I own,” Xavier said.
“Sometimes knowing the fall is over is harder to accept than the pain of impact once you reach the ground. The question is . . . will you forgive the person who pushed you?”
“I don’t have time for your riddles,” Xavier growled in annoyance.
“She should have left you a long time ago, and she didn’t. You tried to break her, yet she stands strong. You don’t deserve her, yet she stays.”
“She stays because I won’t let her leave.”
“She stays because she believes in you. If it were her wish to leave, she knows I would see it so.”
“You speak of treason,” Xavier accused, irrationally angry. “You’d betray your own chief and kin?”
“I’d do it for her,” Tyronian said unflinchingly. “Stop fighting with her, and start fighting for her.”
“Do you?” Xavier challenged, his only way of attack as he felt himself being backed into a corner and forced to confront the feelings he didn’t understand. “Namoriee will never a
gree to be yours. Not willingly.”
“Namoriee is the only thing I fight for. I knew she owned me the moment she was brought to us. So I’ll ask you again.” Tyronian took a step closer to Xavier, his face hardening as he jabbed a finger at him. “Will you forgive her? Because if you can’t, then just let her go. Let her find someone who deserves her love.”
At Xavier’s silence, Tyronian exhaled roughly, frustrated.
“Call me when your so-called plan is ready,” Tyronian muttered angrily as he brushed past him.
He was right; Xavier should let Leawyn go. As heartless as Xavier could be, he knew Leawyn deserved better. Her heart was pure, filled with innocence Xavier often tried to destroy. Xavier tried to let Leawyn go. In the only way he knew how. He recalled the night he was poisoned from the arrow. He was awake when she held the knife to his throat. He was weak, barely hanging onto consciousness, but he could have stopped her. And he didn’t. He was giving her a way out. No one would blame her. Xavier was going to let her kill him . . . but she didn’t.
“I tried to let her go.” Xavier called out. Tyronian froze. “In my own way,” Xavier told Tyronian when he slowly turned around to face him.
“How?”
Maybe it was wrong of him. Xavier knew Leawyn was pure, and good—too good to kill. So, then, he gave her another chance. It was the night before he gave her his mark—when Tristan offered to help her escape him. What Leawyn didn’t know was that Tristan didn’t offer out of the kindness of his heart.
“I had sent Tristan to set Leawyn free. He gave her a chance to runaway before I branded her,” Xavier admitted. Tyronian took a step toward him. “Maybe it was guilt, or—” Xavier grimanced, looking away from him. “Maybe it was the last bit of humanity I had that made me offer to do the very thing that brings me into a rage just thinking about letting her go.” Xavier clenched his fist, taking a moment to calm said rage. “I don’t know why I did it; all I know is that she didn’t run.” Xavier looked up, meeting his cousin’s stare head-on.