by Linda Mooney
“Good question,” Batuset replied. “Why all of a sudden did he remove the guards?”
The walls effectively blocked most of the wind, but not the snow, which continued to fall. A fine layer of powder already covered the ground, making each footstep crunch loudly. The sound of people talking and milling about echoed within the enclosed area, making it difficult to hear anything that might be going on in the sections in front of and behind them.
A large man with a dark scowl ambled up to where they were standing. “The name’s Achery. I’m the Battle Lord of Saint Conesus, north of here.”
Batuset held out a hand in greeting. “Zane Batuset, Battle Lord of Foster City.” He pointed to Atty. “This is Atrilan D’Jacques, the Battle Lady of Alta Novis.”
Achery’s thick brows lifted slightly. “Alta Novis? So you’re the Mutah huntress.”
Rather than acknowledge him, she waved at the abandoned battlements. “What do you make of all this?”
The man shook his head. “I was about to ask you the same question.”
“You’ve been here a few days, right?” Renken inquired.
Archery stared at the ex-mercenary. “You’re D’Jacques?”
“No. Name’s Renken. The battle lord is in his tent at the moment.”
“Oh?”
Atty explained. “My husband fell ill during the trip. Our physician gave him something to help him get better. When did you arrive at Rocky Gorge?”
“Day before yesterday.”
“Did they close these gates either of those nights?” Renken continued.
Again, Achery shook his head. “No. In fact, I was just discussing that with Morisee. He’s the battle lord of Valkerson, a few day’s ride from my compound. We traveled here together. We noticed the main gates were shut after dark, but not between these sections. I commented to Morisee that Highcliff seemed pretty trusting that nothing would happen between Normals and Mutah during the summit.”
“So you have no idea why they would shut the between gates tonight?” Atty asked.
“No idea at all.”
“What’s your feeling about this summit?” Renken asked outright.
The battle lord appeared taken aback by the man’s brash questioning. Atty smiled at the man. “Forgive him. He’s rather outspoken.”
“No need to apologize for him,” Achery replied. “I’m not accustomed to someone so forthright. Does he question your authority in the same manner?”
Atty’s smiled widened. “Once you get used to him, you realize he’s like another voice of reason, making you stop and think about what you’re about to do before you do it.” She tilted her head slightly. Even though Renken’s question had caught the man off-guard, it had been enough to allow her to get a sense of where the man’s loyalties lay. That, and the fact that he was comfortable being around her, eased her worry. “You’re here to push for more treaties with the Mutah,” she flatly announced.
Achery didn’t appear to be surprised by her statement. “That I am. Me and about six other battle lords, that I know of.”
“May I ask what changed your mind?”
The battle lord’s face softened. “His name is Deneel. He’s my son and heir. Up until last year, I’ve never been able to father any children. As you can see, I’m well up in years, and I hadn’t taken any woman to wife until a couple of years ago. I’d given up having any progeny until one day Dr. Bothrite approached me with a concoction he said he’d gotten from a Mutah doctor who had asked to stay overnight. Bothrite said the drink would help me produce more sperm. At first, I was very skeptical, but Bothrite assured me he wouldn’t have suggested it if he didn’t believe it was safe. So I took it. I drank that awful tasting stuff for eight straight days. And then, a few weeks later, my loving wife discovered she was pregnant.”
Batuset cleared his throat. “Excuse me for asking this, but are you certain you’re the boy’s father?”
Instead of becoming angry by the question, Achery chuckled. “I will admit I had my moments of doubt. But I love Farress, and I trusted her. And when Deneel was born, I knew the truth. If you saw my boy, you wouldn’t have any doubts as to his heritage.” His gaze returned to Atty. “I am indebted to Mutah for what that drug accomplished. Without it, I would have died without an heir. That little boy is my whole world, and I want him to grow up without the hatred and violence I had to face when I was younger. Thanks to you and D’Jacques, I have that chance to make a better future for my son.”
Atty smiled warmly at the man. He was sincere in his revelation, which made her feel a little more hopeful about the possibility of a successful summit. She started to reply when Mastin and Paxton ran up to report.
“Eight men are missing,” Mastin told her.
“I have eleven still unaccounted for myself,” Achery added.
“Along with my six.” Batuset glared at the empty catwalks. “If every battle lord is missing soldiers, that’s a goodly number trapped on the other side of this blasted wall.”
“I wonder how many men LeGreen is missing,” Atty commented.
“It could be a goodly number, considering how many soldiers he brought with him,” Paxton remarked. “I’ll go look for his campsite and find out.”
“Ho. No need for that.” Achery held up a hand to stop the second from leaving. “He’s not here anymore. LeGreen moved his camp out about an hour ago.”
“Out?” Renken repeated. “Out where?”
Achery pointed toward the faire ground. “I’m guessing back in that area. He sure as hell didn’t move in with the Mutah.”
The news was like a bucket of icy water being thrown on her. Atty shivered and glanced up at the tall structure, when the lashed tree trunks were suddenly enveloped in a red mist. She sniffed, and a rancid tang bit into her nostrils like tiny teeth. Without being aware of what she was doing, the ballock slid into her palm and she backed toward the tent.
Paxton saw her reaction first. “Atty?”
“My bow. Get me my bow!” she snapped as a shriek came from somewhere to their right. At the same moment, several people screamed and pointed toward the sky. “Everyone, at arms!”
“Get inside your tents!” Batuset yelled, giving her a shove. “Get undercover!”
“Atty, go!” Renken also pushed her toward the door flap.
The smell grew stronger. Pungent, caustic, and filled with blood. And with it came the sound of thousands of leathery wings. The sky went completely dark as the creatures descended, covering the heavens with black death.
Someone shrieked, “Bats!”, and the world exploded in chaos.
Chapter Thirty-One
Trapped
Atty stumbled into the tent to grab her bow and quiver of arrows. Outside, the unmistakable sounds of war assailed her ears as the soldiers fought the creatures swooping down on them. Cries for help came from all around her. Cries that faded into the distance as some of the men were carried away in the animals’ grasps.
Grotesque shadows moved outside the tent’s walls. Silhouetted by the campfires, she could see men slashing at legs and wings that descended on them from above. As she stared at the fight going on less than a dozen feet away, she watched as one bat open its mouth to reveal protruding fangs, and sink them into the soldier. Giving a shake of its head, it took off with its prize. The heavy flapping wings created strong gusts, almost blowing down the tent’s sides.
Atty shucked her coat, tossed it away from her, and took a stance over her husband’s still body, bracing him between her legs as she readied her bow. She hoped the tent would provide some protection against the bats, but in case it didn’t, she was ready.
She knew little about bats. About their habits and peculiarities, especially the vampire variety. These creatures weren’t among the kind which attacked Alta Novis. Or Wallis, if memory served. Therefore, her education while growing up didn’t include any details she needed to learn in order to defeat them. But one thing was very clear. These were big beasts. Bigger than crows, and more
deadly, and therefore harder to kill. Not impossible to kill, but she would have to take advantage of every opportunity she saw to strike. In addition, she needed to make mental notes as to any weaknesses she saw in case she faced them again.
Something slammed against the top of the tent, forcing her to duck. The material sagged halfway to the ground, then suddenly lifted, as if whatever had landed on it launched back into the air. The bats were mostly silent. A few squeaks were all she could hear above the din of the soldiers’ cries and grunts, the heavy flapping of wings, and the solid whack of swords striking their targets.
Another one of those things landed on the tent roof. This time, one of the middle supporting poles cracked under the weight, and everything came crashing to the ground. The lit lantern that had hung on the pole spilled its containment of oil, and flames began to spread across the doused pillows.
Long claws started ripping through the tough fabric as the creature tried to untangle itself from the material. It screamed when a portion of its wing came in contact with the flames. Steadying herself, Atty aimed, waiting for a good shot.
A mouth appeared in the slit. She let fly an arrow, but the bat jerked a micro-second before it hit, and the barb pierced its lip instead of going all the way to the back of its throat. The bat gave an ear-piercing shriek and tried to shred the tent fabric to get to her. Calmly, Atty lifted her chin, pulled three more arrows from her quiver, nocked one, and waited.
A bat landed heavily mere feet away of the other side of the tent. Atty caught the sound of men dispatching it, then hurrying away.
The fire slowly crept over the bedding and pillows. Heat and smoke gradually filled the tent, making her cough. She glanced down at the man lying between her feet. She knew he was totally oblivious to what was going on around him, which was both a hindrance and a blessing. But if the fire continued to expand, she would be forced to make the decision either to let him remain in the tent where he could suffocate, or drag him outside where he would be at the mercy of those winged terrors. She couldn’t wake him. Even if she could, he wouldn’t have the strength to fight them off, although she knew he’d try.
A loud ripping sound jerked her attention back to the bat. The fire had made its way to the side of the tent and was crawling up the fabric like a reverse waterfall. The smoke was getting thicker to the point where it nearly obliterated all sight of the animal.
“Come on, you worthless piece of shit!” she yelled at the creature, and sent another arrow into the animal. The bat shrieked again in pain and redoubled its efforts to reach her. It was exactly the move she’d hoped for.
She finally got the shot she needed when the bat stuck its entire head through one of the slits. It opened its wide mouth to reveal the pink maw and curved fangs. Large black eyes glittered in the firelight.
The arrow went directly into the creature’s left eye, into the brain, killing it almost instantly. The bat backed away, releasing its grasp of the tent as it went into its death throes and eventually stilled.
Throwing down her weapon, she ran over to where the fire crept closer to where Yulen slept. Grabbing a blanket, she beat on the flames to extinguish them, but they seemed to spread even wider. She was vaguely aware of someone shouting her name. A moment later, Twoson joined her to help fight the blaze.
It took them another few minutes before they managed to put out the last of it. As Twoson checked for embers, Atty straightened up and wiped her sweaty face with the back of her sleeve. Her heart continued to race, and she felt weak in the knees. Her arms ached from the strain. Thankfully, the child within her womb remained calm.
“Is it over?” She strained her ears, but the sound of battle was fainter, more distant.
“It’s over…for now,” the Mutah councilman told her. He was smeared in charcoal, leading her to believe he’d used a burning log from one of the campfires to defend himself.
“Help me move Yulen outside where the air is fresher.”
They dragged the battle lord on his pallet outside the entrance when Paxton ran up, sword in hand. “Atty! Are you all right? What happened?” He was spackled with blood. The weapon he carried still dripped. He spotted the bat and his face paled more than it already was. “I saw that thing land on the tent. I prayed it missed you.”
“It did. Are you hurt?” She reached out to him, but he shook off her concern.
“A couple of scratches. Nothing serious.” He grinned lopsidedly. “I’ve had worse.”
Atty took a deep breath and coughed again. The air was foul with the animals’ toxic stench. “It tried to dig its way in. Or out. I managed to stop it before it could attack us.”
Twoson walked over to her. “The fire’s all out. How’s Yulen?”
She didn’t need to glance at her husband to know the answer. “Still unconscious.” Somehow she managed to grin and give a weak chuckle. “He’s going to be surprised and pissed when he finally wakes up.”
“How’s that?” Paxton asked.
She waved a grimy hand at the mess before them. “Surprised when he sees this, and pissed that he missed the fight.” She grew serious. “Mastin and the others?”
“Dispatching the last of the fallen animals. We were lucky it was a brief fight. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the bats happened to spot us as they were flying overhead.”
“Yes,” Twoson agreed. “And if I didn’t know better, I’d swear we’d been laid out like a feast for them, ready for the taking. I don’t like thinking this, but it’s very possible Highcliff knew this would happen, and deliberately put us in harm’s way.”
“It would explain why his own guards were removed from the catwalks,” Atty noted.
She looked at the tent. It was a total loss. There was no way she and Yulen would be able to use it again. Wiping her face once more, she glanced up to see Mastin running toward her. Like Paxton, he was covered in blood, but he appeared to be unhurt. When he spotted her, relief shone on his face. “We’re fine,” she told him when he noticed the destruction to the tent. “How are the men?”
“I’m having Del Ray report to me after he takes roll.”
Atty surveyed the area around them, and the amount of damage the bats had done was enormous. Most of the tents were flattened or gone. By her quick estimate, there had to be at least a dozen or more of the dead creatures littering the ground, and that was just what she could see nearby. With darkness now upon them, the only light came from a few scattered campfires. “I wonder how the Mutah camps fared.”
“One thing’s for certain,” Mastin grimly stated. “You know Highcliff’s people were spared any catastrophe.”
“Atty!” Renken rushed to join them. He glanced at the destroyed tent and blanched.
“We’re okay, Garet. Yulen’s safe.”
“Yeah, well, that’s why I’m here.”
“What?”
“There’s a rumor going around that a soldier from another compound overheard a couple of LeGreen’s soldiers talking right before the gates were shut.”
Atty frowned. “If it’s a rumor, how much can we take for the truth, Garet?”
“I don’t know, but at this moment, I don’t care. Atty, word is the bats aren’t the only thing we have to worry about.” The ex-mercenary turned to Mastin. “Those gates weren’t closed to protect us. They were closed to trap us in here.”
“Trap us?” Twoson repeated. “What for?”
“Damned if I know, but it’s supposed to happen sometime tonight. That’s all I can tell you. If there’s even a grain of truth to the rumor, Atty, we need to prepare.”
Mastin took immediate charge. “I’m gathering the troops together. Warren?”
“Staying here to keep watch until your return,” Paxton told him.
“What can I do?” Renken asked.
“Hurry and find Zane. Tell him what we’ve learned,” Atty said. “You’re right. Whether or not we’re to believe the rumor, I’m not taking any chances.”
Renken gave her a nod and ran
to find Batuset. With him dispatched, she turned to go back inside the ruined tent, when Twoson grabbed her arm.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m getting my bow, my coat, and something more to wrap Yulen in against this cold,” she told him. “Get a fire going, would you? It’s going to be a bitch of a wait until we find out what Highcliff is up to.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Dream
The stars were incredibly bright in the calm winter sky. What could be seen of the broken moon hovered above the treetops like a disassembled lantern. Not a sound whispered.
The compound was safe. Mattox was asleep in his bed. Atty was in his arms. The world couldn’t be more perfect at that moment.
“It’s so beautiful out here.”
Yulen glanced down at her upraised face. Without hesitation, he lowered his mouth to hers, and her kiss was sweeter than he’d ever tasted. Lifting his lips, he nuzzled her forehead as he wrapped the blanket tighter around them. Although the cool night air felt good on their sweaty skin at that moment, he knew they’d soon grew chilled if they didn’t retreat off the balcony and return inside their bedroom.
“I agree,” he murmured. “It’s a beautiful night for a dance.”
Atty snorted softly. “You’re kidding, right?”
Instead of answering her, he began to move from side to side. Gently swaying to a soundless tune. The feel of their bodies sliding skin across skin teased his senses, and Yulen could feel himself regaining the erection he’d lost after their recent coupling. Atty noticed it, as well.
“Me thinks you’re doing this on purpose, my lord,” she teased with a loving smile.
“Truthfully, this is all spontaneous. But I like where this may be going. I always did have a good head for making the right moves.”
“Good head is right,” she teased back. Her innuendo was quite clear.
Yulen chuckled and pulled her tighter against him. Her belly was keeping his growing length from lifting any higher. Pretty soon he’d have to either lift her in his arms and carry her, or escort her back to the bed.
