by Linda Mooney
“D’Jacques.” The tone was gentler. Coaxing. Yulen turned to the battle lord. “It’s not too late to change your mind.” Highcliff held out his hands like a man giving a benediction. “You are an excellent soldier and a brilliant strategist. But, somehow, you traveled off the beaten path. That woman must have beguiled you to make you this way. Perhaps she used some sort of potion or Mutah magic. But it doesn’t have to be that way anymore. Just turn your back on those monstrosities and join my ranks. Come back to us, Yulen. Make your father proud, and help me wipe out the last of that diseased race. Believe me when I tell you, the last thing I want to do is make a martyr out of you.”
Yulen spit at the battle lord’s feet. “Go fuck yourself.”
Highcliff tsked. After a quick glance behind him, he gestured with his arm.
A series of muffled booms rang in the still air as a dozen wooden ladders slammed against the wall on the opposite side. Yulen stared in shock, the blood draining from his face, as soldier after soldier climbed up and over the divider, filling up the parapet. Each man carried a crossbow or a bow and quiver full of arrows. The realization of what the battle lord was about to do filled him with horror.
Yulen! Atty’s voice was inside his head, and her terror was heart-wrenching.
My love, it’s not over yet. He knew his reassurance was useless. He poured out his love to her through their connection. She reciprocated, but added what he’d already accepted to be the truth.
I’m afraid it is, beloved.
He swallowed hard. He didn’t want to admit defeat, but he couldn’t see any possible way he could escape, other than jump off the catwalk. Even if he did manage to elude their clutches, he could easily break a bone, or worse. And if by some miracle he was able to run once he got to the ground, Atty would still be their prisoner.
The silent knell of their impending death tolled in his head. He couldn’t leave Atty. He knew, deep down and with black certainty, that these were going to be the last moments he would have with her, and he wanted to cherish every second he could.
Stall, his mind whispered. Stall.
“Hey, Highcliff! Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that I agree to join you. How are you going to find all the Mutah compounds? Do you even know how many there are? Or where they’re located?”
The man smiled. The sight of it sickened Yulen. “I don’t have to go looking for them. I’ve already sent out my little virulent walking corpses among them. And from what news I’m receiving, the ruse is working quite well.”
“What are you talking about?” As soon as he’d asked, Yulen knew the answer. “The infected Mutah.”
Highcliff chuckled. “Nearly two dozen of them! And all of them carrying the results of a quick dose of a highly infectious disease I wasn’t aware of that my genius practitioner re-discovered. Those people were given their freedom to return to their homes after drinking it, never knowing they carried it inside themselves to spread and contaminate others. Another part of Don’s brilliant plan, and very effective, don’t you agree?”
“And you honestly think that’s going to eliminate every Mutah living?”
“It’ll decimate the majority of them, but I fully expect there to be survivors, D’Jacques. I’m not stupid. Don and I have spent nearly a year planning this whole thing. We know what we’re doing.” The man waved at the crowd. “Once we’re done destroying all of you Mutah lovers in this area, my men will move to the next section. Those Mutah we don’t kill outright, we’ll torture until they tell us the location of every Mutah compound they know of. After that, it’ll just be a matter of time before I and my fellow battle lords hit the road to find those compounds and finish what the disease didn’t kill off in the first place.”
Yulen nodded toward the crowd watching from below. All his men had to fight with were their swords. It was the same with all the other soldiers watching from below. Swords against a wall of archers. It would take time, but eventually he knew Highcliff would win out. “You’re going to kill all of us? Rather risky, wouldn’t you say, once word gets out about the slaughter? All those armies the battle lords left behind at their compounds. You don’t think they won’t come after you when they find out what you did?”
“It wasn’t me, D’Jacques. It was the bats. We were besieged by a colony of vampire bats. And soon after, Bloods took advantage of our weakened state and killed all but the small handful of survivors, who happened to take refuge inside the mountain.” The man pretended to shake his head in sorrow. “It was a monumental travesty. All those lives lost.”
Karv reappeared and took a stance next to Yulen, but his attention was on Highcliff. “The men are in position. Now can I kill him?”
“Oh! Forgive my ill manners, D’Jacques. I neglected to tell you that Karv is my real second. Franjet, he was sort of a standin. I couldn’t have Mig reveal himself too soon after your arrival. I’m sure you understand why. Mig, I thought you would want to start with the Mutah bitch. After all, she’s the one who put an arrow through your brother.”
Karv grinned and crawled over the divider, to walk over to where Atty was being held. Yulen watched helplessly as her fear rose with a silent scream inside his head.
“Please, Alton. Don’t do this. Don’t. Please. I’ll join your little army. Just, please, leave her be.”
Highcliff made a rude noise. “I’ll accept your request, but only on the condition that you divest yourself of her. Permanently.”
“All right! Have it your way! I’ll send her away. I’ll divorce her. I promise never to set eyes on her again. Just… Please… Don’t kill her!”
The battle lord gave him a condescending look. “Come off it, D’Jacques. Show a little dignity, would you? A man of your stature? Begging? For the life of a Mutah?” He huffed. “What part of permanently didn’t you understand? Go ahead, Mig. Enjoy yourself.”
Yulen screamed as he saw the dagger rise up and fall. Although he couldn’t see the man plunge it into her, he felt its icy blade pierce her belly. Felt it go into their daughter. And saw the dripping dagger rise again to go into her a second time. A third. Karv laughed. And with one final sideways motion, Yulen knew when the man slit her throat. The two soldiers holding her let go, and Atty fell thirty feet to land face-down on the bloody snow.
Yulen struggled as he screamed again. He was aware of the little man approaching him with the dripping knife still in his hand.
“And this is for my brother,” the man softly declared, digging the blade into Yulen’s chest.
There was no feeling left in him. There was nothing but the overwhelming loss filling his soul as Atty’s beautiful spirit slowly drained out of her body. As Karv had done to her, the man stabbed him twice more, then drew the blade across Yulen’s throat.
He felt himself falling forward. There was no pain when he impacted with the ground. He landed on his stomach, all the air gushing from his chest. He tried to breathe, but his windpipe had been severed, and his head lay at an odd angle.
But he could see her lying less than a foot away. She was staring at him, unable to move or speak. The light slowly faded from her blue-gray eyes as her last thoughts weakly came to him.
My beloved. My Yul.
Forever, Atrilan.
And life ended.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Foretelling
He heard murmuring. Voices talking with urgency, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying.
Yulen took a deep breath. The cold air swept into his lungs and throughout his body, awakening his senses and making his skin tingle.
A movement beside him caught his attention, and he froze. Horrible images flashed through his mind. Terror and sadness crushed his heart, making him gasp in ghostly pain. He could remember it all. Every thrust of the dagger as Atty fought the blade. The callous way she was tossed aside as Karv came for him. And every little grunt Karv made when the man jammed the dagger up to the hilt into his heart.
The fall. The cries from the crowd as his bod
y dropped to the ground.
The sight of Atty dying, mere inches away.
The whisper of her last words to him.
My beloved. My Yul.
The murmuring came again, and realization sunk into his brain with icy fingers. Slowly, Yulen opened his eyes, knowing what he’d see. Still, the sight of the white tent ceiling sent more shockwaves through him.
Nighttime. The one lantern. Oh, dearest God…
A warm hand reached out and touched his face. Yulen grasped it like a drowning man reaching for a lifeline. A beloved figure hovered above him.
“Yulen?”
“Atty.” His voice rasped. His throat was on fire.
She sat up and grabbed the water bag sitting nearby. She yawned as she uncorked the skin. “I must have dozed off. Here. Drink.”
He gulped the cool water, feeling it sooth the burning as it went down. After another mouthful, he lifted his chin and pushed the bag away.
“We’re in Zane’s tent, aren’t we?”
She gave him an amused smile. “How did you know?” She recorked the bag. “A lot has happened while you were out.”
He struggled to sit up. Holding out a hand in a mute request, he was able to rest upright with her help. “Let me guess. Highcliff banned his own compound from attending the faire, right? And Paas found out about it from a Mutah woman with butterfly ears named Keelor, whom you believe is your sister.”
Atty’s eyes widened in surprise. “How did you—”
“And when you and Warren went to the faire, you believe the vendors tried to serve you bad meat.”
She shook her head in amazement. “And here, all that time, I thought you were unconscious.”
“I was.”
He stared at her. At the way her dark blue hair framed her face. At the tiny birthmark on her upper left cheek. At her warm blue-gray eyes and full lips.
“Atrilan.” He leaned over and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly against him. Breathing in her warm, familiar scent as he fought the tears. It took great effort not to break down and sob as he held her.
She was still alive. His world had not yet shattered.
Releasing her suddenly, he placed a hand to her cheek. “Listen to me, my beloved. Go get the others and have them come here. I need to speak with them immediately. Hurry! There’s no time to waste!”
“All right. Then I’ll go find Fergus and let him—”
“No! No, Atrilan! Don’t go get the doctor!” he hastily begged her, using his love name for her so she would realize how serious he was.
She smiled lovingly at him. “It’s all right. Your fever broke a little over an hour ago, and he needs to check you out. Make sure you’re okay. Don’t worry. Warren will be with me.”
“No! Atty, no!” He grabbed her by the arms. “Do not leave my side, do you hear me?”
Her amusement turned into concern. She placed a hand to his cheek. “Beloved, what’s wrong? Why are you acting like this?”
Yulen took a deep, shaky breath. “Atty, among Mutah, has anyone been able to foretell the future? See events that have yet to happen, and then watch as those events actually occurred?”
Her eyes searched his face. “Yes,” she admitted. “I’ve never met anyone who could, but there have been stories of those who did. Why? What are you…” Her eyes widened. “That’s why you knew all those things? You had a foretelling?”
Yulen shook his head and released her arms. He rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know. I had this…dream. A nightmare. I saw you murdered. I saw… Oh, dear God.” He buried his face in his hands as every raw emotion dropped over him. Atty grabbed his wrists to pull his hands away. Glancing at her through his tears, he leaned forward and kissed her. But it had to be brief.
“Hurry. Get the men and come back here. Promise me, Atty. Please promise me.”
“All right. I’ll return with them. I’ll get Fergus after this is over.” She crawled over the pillows to retrieve his clothes, tossing them his way before getting to her feet and exiting the tent.
Urgency gave him strength to get dressed. He was pulling on his boots when Fortune and Renken came through the door flap. Behind them, Mastin and Paxton. As she’d promised, Atty followed the seconds.
“Where’s Paas and Twoson?” Yulen asked, buckling his weapons belt around his waist.
“We’re here,” the Mutah councilman announced, entering the tent. The group stood around, waiting to hear what he had to say.
Yulen gave them a once-over. “I have to make this quick. You have to trust that everything I’m about to tell you can and probably will happen.” He directed his attention to Atty. “I had a dream that I believe was a foretelling. The reason I believe this is because, since I’ve awakened, events have happened exactly the way they were in my dream. Do you understand? What you said, what you did when I woke up… I even know about the gates being closed without warning. About all the soldiers trapped between the sections. And about the bats attacking.” He pointed to Fortune. “You were right, Fortune. Highcliff knew those creatures would attack, and deliberately trapped us in here, hoping they’d attack us.”
The Mutah hunter’s mouth gaped open. “How’d you…”
Yulen pressed on. “In my dream, Atty, you went to fetch Dr. Gus. But Highcliff had some men waiting for you. They kidnapped you and murdered Warren. Then they took you up top to where the catwalks are. We heard screaming, and ran to the gates that were shut again. Highcliff was up there. He told me to come up and join him. They dropped a rope ladder for me to climb, but Garet, you took the ladder instead, and you died for your effort. They killed you with crossbows.”
He pointed to himself. “I went up that ladder where they tied me up. That’s when Highcliff explained everything to me.”
“The summit was a ruse,” Atty whispered.
Yulen nodded. “It was more than a ruse. It’s a trap set to pull in all the battle lords who are Mutah sympathizers. LeGreen and Highcliff have been planning this whole thing for over a year. Tonight, Highcliff is going to kill everyone in this section, then move to the next section over and kill the Mutah, except for a select few whom he plans to torture.”
“Why?” Renken asked.
“To find out the location of all Mutah compounds.” Yulen ran a sleeve over his sweaty face. His mind was racing, as well as his heart. His knees felt like they were about to give out at any moment. “Twoson, that man, Berris Dullay? He’s a plant. Him and two dozen other Mutah were deliberately infected with a disease, then sent on their way to contaminate others. Once Highcliff removes the battle lords who want treaties with the Mutah, he and those who are against the treaties plan to go out and systematically wipe out any remaining Mutah they can find.”
Paas gave a little cry of horror. Mastin quickly drew an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. “What happened to you and Atty…in your dream?” Mastin asked.
Gripping the hilt of his sword, Yulen straightened. “Highcliff’s second isn’t Franjet. It’s Mig Karv, Tosh Karv’s brother. He gets his revenge by killing Atty, and then me, before Highcliff lets his archers loose.”
Everyone stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. At least, that was Yulen’s first impression, until Renken stepped forward and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
“I believe you, Yulen. I’ve witnessed too many things with my own eyes not to. I think the connection you and Atty share may have brought about this foretelling. But whatever caused it, we now know what’s going to happen. And we need to stop it before it comes true.”
Fortune also drew closer. “Just tell us what to do.”
Atty walked over and slid an arm around his waist, pressing her cheek against his arm. Her physical presence wiped the last of the misty haze from his mind, giving him a clarity he sorely needed.
“First, we stay away from the wall and the gates. Garet, go tell Zane what I told you and have him gather his men here. Mastin, bring in our soldiers to form a phalanx. Warren, go find Achery, the battle lord f
rom Saint Conesus. Tell him what we know, but don’t tell him it was a dream I had. Tell him it came from a reliable source, and he must spread word quickly to all the other battle lords who are here in favor of the treaties. Everyone must have their men at-ready.” Yulen took another shaky breath. “And then let’s pray that, because we know what occurred in my dream, that we’ve been given the chance to change its outcome, too.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Retribution
Yulen stood within the circle his army made around him and Atty. Behind them and inside Zane’s tent, Twoson, Paas, and Thrasher set up a triage center and waited. Batuset stood ten yards away with his men surrounding him.
As word went out about what Highcliff had planned, every battle lord prepared for what was about to happen. Everyone had their swords drawn and ready, to show a united front.
Mastin glanced over at Yulen, whose eyes remained fixed on the battlements. In the flickering lights coming from the campfires, it was difficult to tell between a shadow and a figure climbing onto the narrow walkway. But so far the compound remained eerily quiet. The lack of any kind of noise was wrong on too many counts.
Yulen knew Highcliff would pit his archers against the visiting soldiers. It had been obvious in his dream that the man fully expected the fight to drag on for hours, perhaps days, and had prepared for it. Highcliff hoped to inflict the majority of casualties in the first few minutes of his attack, when everyone was least prepared for it. When the visiting armies would not be ready to counter with their own defense until it was too late. Then his men would take shifts picking off the remaining survivors one by one as the hours wore on. Without food or fresh water, the siege would not last for long. It also explained why the wagons Yulen and the other battle lords had brought with them had to be ditched before they entered the compound.
