by Linda Mooney
“On our journey back I want her kept by your side or mine. Day and night. I don’t want another chance of someone venting his hatred on her. Liam...I’m trusting you with this like no other.”
“But what are you going to do about Karv?” MaGrath insisted.
Yulen stepped back and glanced out the window where he could finally make out the inner compound. “He’ll be punished,” he finally said, his voice cold with finality. “This isn’t over until I’ve settled it.”
Then, to MaGrath’s utter astonishment, Yulen laid a gentle hand on the Mutah’s exposed shoulder. “Let me know when she awakes. Until then, she’ll ride with you.”
“You can’t seat her by herself on a horse when she’s like this.”
“I know,” Yulen nodded. “Tie her to you if you have to so she won’t fall off.”
He turned quickly on his heel and left the store, calling out to his men as the sun slowly rose over the tops of the trees. With his Second no longer able to perform his job, the Battle Lord hurried to assign two of his most trusted men to the task of seeing that all would be ready to leave within the hour.
As preparations were being made, he walked into the compound and stood in its center, surveying the area with a new eye. A different eye, now slanted to see things with a completely unbiased perspective.
This time he could see the rows of houses with their tiny window boxes and the intricate decorations painted on the doors. To his left began the line of shops he’d never noticed, and probably wouldn’t have, except for the fact that one lone warrior girl had managed to tilt his personal axis within the span of a single night.
To his right lay the open meeting area. Small stalls and carts still sat, unoccupied since the invasion. A small breeze flowed over him, sending him a final scent of roasted meat.
She had killed a badger five times her own weight.
I slew a wolfen, as instructed, and I brought its head back to the compound.
A shiver ran cold fingers down his back, and Yulen suddenly realized what she had told him last night. A wolfen! She had killed a wolfen! He could count on two hands the number of warriors he personally knew who had gone out to slay one of the many huge predators that lived in the forests just beyond their encampment, only to have none of them return. Yet she had killed one with just a bow. She, a mere slip of a girl, and not even a seasoned soldier.
He knew she spoke the truth. No man, or woman, would dare make such a claim unless it could backed up with proof.
The Battle Lord drew a deep, shaky breath. Thinking back on what Karv had done, Yulen felt his anger begin to boil inside himself. He knew how much the Second hated Mutah. The little man had lost two of his own family members to a rogue band of Mutah scavengers. But that didn’t excuse the man from the viciousness of his attacks on—
Atty
—the prisoner. Especially in light of the fact that he had made a deal with her, and offered her his protection once she had silently agreed.
He watched as his men continued to gather the rest of the Mutah community together, dragging many of them from their abodes. Again, with an eye directed toward that which he’d always ignored until now, Yulen saw the little things which showed these savages were more than three levels above the mutated animals, the way he’d been taught to believe.
There was the ruffle of hand-crocheted lace around the neckline of one Mutah’s blouse. There was the older female bending over her young son to help him re-button his coat when he’d missed one buttonhole in his haste to dress. There was the male holding a smaller version of himself in his arms, bouncing the child upon his hip and tenderly shushing the boy so as not to draw any undue attention to themselves.
And at their feet, the blood of those who his men had slaughtered still pooled in dark congealed splotches in the dirt.
Turver came to let him know they’d gathered all they could find, although the number looked less than it had the night before. Without a doubt some remained in hiding, hoping to survive until the Cleaners had left. Never mind. There were enough here to heed his message.
Walking into the middle of the clearing, Yulen looked fully into their faces and gave them a few moments to see the still-healing wound that would mark him forever. When he was certain they would never forget him, he spoke.
“My name is Yulen D’Jacques. I am the Battle Lord of the compound city called Alta Novis. Novis is five days’ ride from here, to the south.
“I have taken prisoner the girl you call Atty. She has bought your lives with her own. She has agreed to go back to Alta Novis with me, and in exchange, we will leave this compound as it stands. We are leaving you without further bloodshed, but I am also leaving behind two emissaries to help you with refortification, in the event another Battle Lord from another compound discovers you.
“You see, I own you now. Your compound...” He paused for a second, then pointed a finger at a nearby Mutah, an older man with gray-green hair as long on his arms as it was on his head. “You. Old man. Does this compound have a name?”
The man nodded. “We call it Wallis.”
“Your compound,” Yulen continued, “is now mine. My banner will fly over it. And because I now own it, you are now under my protection.”
“Your protection?” a voice sarcastically called from the crowd.
“That is part of the deal I made with your warrior girl,” Yulen told them.
“No Cleaner makes a deal!” another voice argued from the safety of the gathered villagers. The others surrounding him nodded and murmured in agreement.
“Hear me out!” Yulen hollered. “You can either accept my generosity, or I can have you wiped out with a simple wave of my hand.”
To demonstrate, he raised his left arm, fist clenched. Instantly every soldier within view raised their weapons at ready. The entire action had taken less than a heartbeat. Yulen gave the crowd another minute to digest his threat.
“In a month I will send two more of my men to replace the two I’m leaving behind. If they return with the news that you have killed my emissaries, or if none of my men return at all, I will come back and see that every timber of Wallis is burned to the ground, and the head of every man, woman, and child is perched on the blackened poles. Am I clear?”
His threat, or promise, was extremely clear, as revealed in the paled faces and wide eyes of the villagers. After another silent minute had slid by, Yulen turned and left the clearing, leaving the villagers behind virtually unguarded.
He called two of his more trusted men over to where he kept his horse tethered and gave them curt but explicit directives about working with the Mutah, including fortifying the compound against further attacks. When that was done, he mounted and signaled for the rest of his men to begin leaving. He would catch up with them later, to take the lead.
Near the middle he found Karv hog-tied across the back of his steed. The man was still unconscious.
MaGrath was having another soldier help him adjust the prisoner across his lap, tying her carefully but securely around him, so that the swaying of the saddle wouldn’t jar her loose. She, too, remained unresponsive.
“We’ll stop at noon to rest the horses,” Yulen informed the physician. “There’s no rush to get back. If we take it at a normal pace, the men won’t be exhausted, and the prisoner will have more of a chance to heal by the time we reach Alta Novis. I’ll check back on her when we stop. But if she takes a turn for the worse before then...”
“I’ll let you know,” MaGrath promised.
Yulen nodded. “Stay near the head of the line, close to me. I know how deeply most of the men hate Mutah. I don’t want to take any chances.” Kneeing his horse, he proceeded out of the compound, toward the head of the line that already was snaking into the dense forest beyond the high walls.
* * * *
Watching him go, MaGrath was suddenly struck with the realization that the Battle Lord no longer referred to the woman as a Mutah, but as their prisoner. As surely as he knew himself, he kne
w it wouldn’t be long before the man called her by her given name. But until that came about, this small concession was a start.
Chapter Ten
Ferals
Despite making their way back to Alta Novis at a slower speed, Yulen was surprised to discover how much ground they’d covered before calling for a temporary halt a little past noon. Everyone was allowed to dismount, and small fire pits were dug for a quick meal.
Karv was coming to when the Battle Lord checked on him. As the smaller man stared up at his leader with glazed eyes, Yulen made it very clear how he still felt about the unprovoked attack on the warrior girl.
“MaGrath says he told you the girl was unbound. If you ever lie to me again, Karv, I don’t care how long we’ve fought together side by side. Lie to me again, and I will have you stripped of your armor. If you hurt the girl again, I will send you outside the compound without a weapon. Are we understanding each other?”
Karv closed his eyes and nodded painfully. He knew too well the Battle Lord’s promises were never given lightly. “Mutah lover,” he mumbled under his breath.
“What was that?”
“I said...Mutah lover,” the Second repeated. The man didn’t fear another devastating blow. He was already too damaged, but also too valuable an aide and ally, to risk any more harm. But instead of a sharp retort he probably expected, he watched in silent surprise as the Battle Lord strode away without replying.
Closer to where he’d tethered his own horse, Yulen found the physician. The man had placed his burden under the cooler shade of a tree, and was busy changing the bloody bandages. The Battle Lord winced at the sight of the girl’s ravaged face, then berated himself silently for his reaction. He’d seen the worst life had to throw at him, from brutalized corpses to the horrors of living torture on man and Mutah alike. Why would the torn and bleeding face of one girl affect him like this?
“I reset her nose,” MaGrath informed him. “She stirred once but didn’t awaken.”
“Has she said anything?” Even in the light of day, it was impossible for Yulen to see the true color of her hair, what with the bandages wrapped around her face and head. He bit his lip to hide his disappointment.
The physician shook his head. “Nothing notable. Just incoherent ramblings. Yulen, she could have some brain damage.”
“Damn. How will you know for certain?”
“I won’t until she comes out of this, if she comes out of it.”
“When she does, send word.”
MaGrath nodded, then gestured for the man to lean closer to where he knelt. “Let me look at that,” he ordered in a no-nonsense voice.
Yulen dutifully leaned close enough for the man to examine the wound in his face. He heard the heavy sigh come from the physician.
“Do you realize how lucky you were that that bird wasn’t diseased? Or that it didn’t take out your eye in the attack?”
“Don’t you think I haven’t dwelled on that myself?” Yulen said.
“Does it still pain you? I have more powders if you need them.”
Yulen held up a hand to show he declined the offer. “I’ll let you know when and if I need more of your foul-tasting pain killer.” He tried to grin, but the creasing of his face brought forth a spasm of fire that settled in his eyes. “It only hurts when I smile,” the man relented.
“So I guess you won’t be smiling for a long while?” MaGrath teased gently.
“What’s worth smiling about?” the Battle Lord gruffly countered.
“What indeed?” the physician countered, and looked down at the unconscious form at his feet.
The Battle Lord knew MaGrath had caught the expression on his face while he redressed her wounds. It wasn’t like him to flinch. In fact, he couldn’t remember if the physician had ever seen the Battle Lord flinch at anything.
Their noon meal was over within the hour, and everyone was saddled and heading back south when Mastin approached the Battle Lord.
“Sir, if I may.”
“What is it?” Yulen inquired. It was going to be a pleasant day. Although the sun was shining bright and merciless overhead, the weather remained cold. Tonight, however, there was the chance of more snow, which would turn the ground into a muddy, sucking swamp in places if they weren’t careful.
“Sir, the men are questioning your motives.”
“My motives?” The Battle Lord shot his new Second a suspicious look, but Mastin refused to back down.
“We’ve never taken prisoners before, sir. We’ve never left behind a compound full of Mutah before, either. They’re wondering what your motives are.”
“Do they know what happened to our advance party before we entered the compound?”
“Yes, sir. They know they were attacked by a party of Mutah, who almost killed all of our men—”
“Not a party,” Yulen quickly corrected him.
“Sir?”
Yulen glanced back at the young soldier. “I said...it was not a party of Mutah who attacked and killed sixteen of our men. There was only one.” He held up an index finger for emphasis. “One Mutah.”
Mastin swallowed hard. “One?” At the Battle Lord’s nod, he added, “The girl?” Another nod. “With just a bow?” Again, the nod. “Sooo...we’re taking her back home because of her skill?”
Somehow Yulen managed a small grin without too much pain. “Does that surprise you?”
“No. Well, yes. What do you plan to do with her?”
“I made a deal with her. If she would train my men how to acquire such skill with their bows, I would spare her compound.” He glanced quickly at the man riding beside him, hoping to catch his immediate reaction.
“So, you bargained their lives for her servitude?”
“Correct.”
“But what if she had turned you down?”
Yulen made a face. “You already know the answer to that.”
“But what if another Battle Lord comes along and razes her compound? What if Syrus Collaunt discovers it?”
“That will always be a possibility. But I promised her I would not bring harm to her people. As long as I keep my word, she’ll comply.”
“And then what will you do once she’s taught us everything she knows? Will you let her go back to her compound?”
“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” Yulen admitted. These past few hours he’d gone solely on gut instinct. He hoped the days’ ride back to Alta Novis would give him a clearer sense of direction. He noticed Mastin’s glance backwards. “What?”
“What about Karv? Verris and I—”
“Where is Verris?” the Battle Lord asked, referring to the only other man he’d tapped to replace Karv, besides Mastin.
“Riding with Karv, as you ordered,” Mastin reminded him. One would always remain with the defaced Second until they reached the compound, as per orders.
“What I plan to do with Karv is none of your concern,” Yulen snapped suddenly. Kneeing his horse, he jumped ahead of the line to check the trail. The advance guard he’d sent before them had yet to return to let them know of any possible danger. Thinking back, Yulen realized it had been a good hour or more since Betts had left. He raised his hand, signaling a halt to their progress.
Mastin hurried to catch up. Before he could question his leader’s actions, Yulen whispered gruffly, “Fetch me three swords.”
There was not a sound coming from the trees. For the past few minutes all sounds had ceased, and Yulen cursed himself for his inattention. Not even a bird flew overhead.
The Second galloped away to bring back three men armed with swords. Once, many, many years ago, there had been guns and all manner of weapons which relied upon explosive charges and gunpowder. But those weapons quickly became obsolete as ammunition, the materials to make ammunition, and the knowledge and ability to make the ammunition and more such weapons was lost or disappeared. Yulen had seen a gun once, a long time ago, but he had never held one, much less fired it. People had reverted back to the ways of their ancestor
s, using swords and bows and other such weapons from their history, which proved easier to make and use.
The same loss of technology also proved fatal for cars. And electricity. And telephones. Gone, all gone more than three hundred years ago.
Yulen dismounted, motioning for the others to do as well as he pulled his own sword from its sheath. Mastin slid off his horse and joined them. Slowly, carefully, they advanced toward the small rise and disappeared over the crest.
* * * *
MaGrath felt the girl stirring in his arms, but it wasn’t until she let out a low moan that he gently covered her mouth with his hand. At his touch, the girl froze and, like a true hunter, tried to assess her surroundings first before making another move. Realizing what she was doing, the physician leaned down to breathe in her ear, “No noise.”
He could tell she was in great pain. It clouded her eyes and made her whole body tremble. He needed to give her some more painkillers, but that would mean getting off the horse and digging through the satchel tied to the back of the saddle. Silently he cursed himself for not thinking ahead and stashing some in his coat pocket.
A cold hand reached up to remove his hand from her lips. Lifting her bandaged face, Atty waited until he lowered his ear so she could barely whisper, “Why...stop?”
“Yulen called a halt. I don’t know why. He’s gone over the ridge with a small platoon to check things out,” he replied into her ear on the lesser damaged side of her face. “As soon as he returns, I’ll give you some more painkiller.”
Atty shivered again, blinking against the bright sunlight and the agony which enveloped her whole body, especially her face. She tried to look around, but everything would be coated in that unreal fogginess. “South.”
