Namoriee stared at the large tent in no small amount of apprehension. When she received word that her chief wanted to see her, she immediately thought the worst. Does he blame her for Leawyn’s illness?
It was her duty to take care of her, after all. Would he send her away?
She loved working for Leawyn, who was her only friend. And her lady chief treated her with kindness. Namoriee would be devastated if she lost her. Deciding that she couldn’t prolong whatever fate would meet her any longer, she gathered her courage, and with a shaking hand flipped open the flap of the tent and went inside.
She was not expecting what was waiting for her.
Tyronian watched from the sidelines as Namoriee pushed through the tent and immediately froze. His instinct was to wrap her in his arms and ensure her that everything was okay, but he could not do that.
Not yet, at least.
“Namoriee, do you know why you’re here?” Xavier’s deep voice broke through the silence, and Tyronian saw Namoriee jump at the suddenness of it.
“N-n-no, C-C-Chief,” she stuttered, and he saw that her fists were clenched tightly. She had only just started to speak out last winter. It must be killing her to have to speak in front of all these men, but he knew she valued tradition as much as she valued the gods and goddesses; she would not disrespect her chief.
“A challenge has been made to the Siraces,” Xavier told her, watching her thoughtfully. “Do you know anything about that?”
Namoriee paled significantly, starting to openly tremble. “N-No, s-sir.”
“Is it true that you were attacked by a Siraces warrior?” Xavier asked pointblank, his expression still impassive.
“P-Please,” Namoriee stammered, starting to hyperventilate. “I don’t want any t-t-trouble.”
“I don’t care what you want,” Xavier told her. “Were you or were you not attacked by a Siraces warrior?”
Namoriee felt close to throwing up.
Her heart was pounding, and she could hear her heavy breaths, as if she were listening through a tube. She could feel multiple pairs of eyes on her as all the men stood in a circle, surrounding her. The Siraces were studying her; their contempt was like a physical touch on her skin. She couldn’t answer Xavier. She didn’t want to.
She was afraid to.
“It doesn’t m-matter. I j-j-just want to—”
“I asked you a question, Namoriee,” Xavier growled. She could tell that he was starting to lose his patience with her.
“Y-yes,” she answered meekly, almost in a whisper. “It’s true.”
“Why does your speech halt that way?” Yoro asked, examining her. He didn’t give her a chance to answer, however, and he directed his next question to Xavier as if she weren’t there.
“Is her head unwell?”
Shame and embarrassment made her cheeks hot. In that moment, the gods could have struck the ground with lighting and she would have welcomed the collapse.
“How she speaks is of no concern to you,” Xavier bit out. He turned his attention back to her. “Is the man who attacked you in this room?”
It was through strength of will that she did not cry, knowing what he would ask her next. She nodded with a whispered “yes.”
“How can we trust anything she says?” Kisias interrupted Xavier, glaring at her. “She’s nothing more than a slave!”
Xavier’s eyes cut to Kisias, his face taut. “Careful,” Xavier warned him. “Not only is she a member of my tribe, she is my wife’s handmaiden, and someone the lady chief cares for deeply. That means she is under my protection, and you will respect her,” Xavier said, shocking her. “It’s starting to sound like you’re accusing a member of my tribe of lying, which is a dangerous insult to me, and one that I will take very personally.”
The tension in the room thickened at Xavier’s words. The Izayges warriors stood taller, their loyalty to their chief clear. Kisias scoffed but seemed to realize that he was treading dangerous water, because he said nothing more but to apologize. Xavier didn’t bother acknowledging it, and instead he turned his attention back to Namoriee and ordered her to do the very last thing she wanted to do.
“Point him out.”
“Pl-Please don’t m-make me,” she beseeched, hoping that they couldn’t see her trembling. “I-I don’t want any trouble. P—”
“You dare defy your chief?” Xavier bit out savagely.
“N-No!” Namoriee cried in alarm. “I-I would never—”
“Then do as you’re told!” Xavier roared, finally losing his patience. “Point him out, now, or be punished for your disobedience!”
Namoriee flinched at the volume of his voice. She didn’t want to do this, but she knew Xavier meant what he said; he would punish her for disrespecting him. Her spine straightened, and she took a deep breath, gathering her courage. She had no reason to protect Cantos; he wasn’t worth it.
With a shaking finger that belied her outer stoicism, she pointed at the man who had been the star of her nightmares. The one who’d been staring at her with murder in his eyes since she entered the tent.
“This is ridiculous,” Cantos spat in disgust, turning to face the assembled chiefs head on. “She is unclaimed. I have done no offense to our laws other than waste time on a whore who isn’t nearly attractive enough to be worth the trouble she caused me.”
“This is true,” Yoro began. “If she is unclaimed, no laws were broken.”
“But she is claimed,” Xavier told them all with a hint of smugness.
“By who?”
“Your challenger,” Xavier said, pointing over his shoulder to where Tyronian stepped out from the crowd and up to Cantos.
“I’m going to enjoy relieving your neck the burden of carrying your useless head,” Tyronian told Cantos menacingly.
“That won’t happen,” Cantos snarled back, going chest to chest with the bigger male. “Because I’m going to kill you before your stroke falls.”
Tyronian’s lips pulled back into a predatory smile that was as dark as it was mocking.
“You can try.”
Namoriee flew out of the hut like the ancient beasts were behind her the moment Xavier dismissed her.
“Namoriee!” The voice she never wanted to hear again called out from behind her. “Namoriee, stop!”
She didn’t.
“Namoriee, don’t you dare walk away from me!” She heard his steps hurry, and then a shadow was upon her.
“I said stop!”
He gripped her wrist and yanked her around to face him. She used that momentum to send her palm flying.
Smack!
“Don’t touch me,” she screamed, tugging herself out of his shocked grip. A red handprint was already forming on his cheek when he turned his head back around to face her.
“You will never touch me again!”
“Namoriee . . .” he started to say, reaching for her.
“No!” She pushed him away, making him stumble back half a step from his surprise.
“Do you have any idea how mortifying that was for me?” she demanded, almost hysterical.
“Namoriee, I just . . .” He tried to soothe her, reaching for her again.
“Don’t,” she screamed at him, slapping his hands away. She sucked in a hiccupped breath, looking at him from behind eyes blurry with tears stinging with his betrayal.
“Don’t,” she said again, voice cracking. She pointed a shaking finger at him.
“You embarrassed me in front of all those people,” she said, fresh tears making tracks down her cheeks. “How can you do that to me? Why would you make me endure that?” she sobbed.
Tyronian’s expression changed, and in an instant, she was in his arms, despite her thrashing.
“Why?” he asked her, easily managing her struggles. “I did it for you!” he roared, shaking her in his grip. “I was protecting you!”
“You did no such thing!” Namoriee screamed back, finally snapping. She wrenched herself out of his arms.
“You did it because you were merely a dog marking his territory for everyone to see. You didn’t do it for me,” she spat hatefully. “You did it for yourself, Tyronian!”
He reared back as if she’d slapped him again, his angry expression falling. He took a step towards her, and hurt flashed across his face when she took one back, ensuring that he couldn’t touch her.
“Namoriee . . .” His voice was meek, almost broken.
“I don’t ever want to see you again,” she whispered, her breath stuttering out of her.
She bent at the waist, letting a few of the sobs she was trying to get control of out. She heard him say her name again, but it was watery and whispered. When she looked back up at him, his blue eyes were red-rimmed.
“Just—” She cut off, grabbing her hair and clenching it in frustration. She stifled another sob as she took several steps back, her hand slashing the air in an angry jerk. “Just stay away from me!”
Then, she did what she was good at. It was what had always protected her, and what had gotten her into this mess in the first place.
She ran.