The Battle Lord's Lady

by Linda Mooney

  “Where’d you go last night, then?”

  “Liam.” For the first time, Madigan spoke up and tried to placate him.

  “No, no, Maddy. I think it’s time someone had a talk with your son here. All right, Yulen, I know things are different. I know things are going to be even more different once we get back to Alta Novis. But you seem to have forgotten that you are a Battle Lord, and that life is not all flower petals and silken sheets. You have an obligation, and it’s about time you put your feet back on the ground and got back to the business at hand.”

  “I think I am tending to the business at hand, Liam. Would you mind being a little more specific?” Yulen challenged.

  Madigan intervened. “Liam’s just upset to find you gone this morning. He’s right you know, Yul. You can’t just go wandering off into the woods and leave a full company of men.”

  Yulen shot her a heavy look, then turned back to the physician. “Since when do I have to explain my actions to you? Or get prior permission?”

  “Yul!”

  “Stay out of this, Madigan. Okay, Liam. Have it out. Okay, so I admit it. My actions these past few weeks have been...not myself. Of course, we all know why I’ve strayed a bit from normal procedures. But at no time have I placed my men in any danger, nor have I compromised the compound because of my lack of attention. In fact, I’m surprised at your reaction this morning. If you haven’t noticed, Atty has returned. Whatever happened to good manners and a ‘good morning’ greeting?”

  “Yul, you know we’re happy to have you both return well and happy, but listen to Liam. He does have our best interests at heart,” Madigan insisted.

  “Your mother’s right,” Atty finally joined the conversation. When Yulen lifted an eyebrow at her, she gazed steadfastly back. “But it’s mostly my fault,” she added, turning to them. “I left the caravan. I’m the one who drew him away from the encampment last night.”

  Drew him away. Yulen found he liked the sound of that, and managed to mask his smile.

  “That doesn’t excuse Yulen’s behavior. These are dangerous times, and they’re not going to get easier. If his head’s in the clouds, that places all of us in danger,” MaGrath told her sharply, although it was clear the man’s temper was beginning to cool, now that the both of them had returned unharmed.

  “Then I swear never to leave the caravan again before we reach Alta Novis,” she promised.

  “Atty, I fight my own battles,” Yulen began churlishly.

  “Then treat me as your equal, Yulen D’Jacques,” she snapped suddenly, turning on him with flushed cheeks, “or I swear the nights are going to be very cold for the both of us! You want me to wife? Then accept the fact that what affects you also affects me, and vice versa. Liam is right. We’ve been remiss in our duties to your men and the compound.”

  She paused to give him a blistering look, but the Battle Lord refused to offer a rebuttal. Instead, he kneed the stallion and moved forward a bit in line, leaving Atty and the others in their small group riding together. Several minutes passed, until she turned to Madigan. “Has he always been this obstinate?” she asked, knowing he could overhear.

  “Since he was born,” the older woman replied.

  “Opinionated? Rude?”

  “Just like his father.”

  “Prone to refuse to admit he’s wrong, even when all the evidence proves otherwise?” Atty added.

  “Oh, that’s probably his worst flaw,” Madigan announced, smiling. “Still willing to marry him, even though he has a score of rough edges? And there’s not much of a chance you’ll ever change him?”

  Atty sighed loudly. “I guess I don’t have much choice. After all, he did promise me I could still wear a white wedding dress, even though this morning he had me—”

  “Atty!”

  Her laughter was like bells ringing in the air as she rode up next to him to offer him a kiss as a peace offering. Instead, he pulled her onto his saddle in front of him, and they rode that way together until it was time to stop for lunch.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Water

  “Liam, do you have something for a headache?”

  MaGrath turned around to where Atty was standing behind him. They were resuming their way north after their brief midday break to eat and give the horses some water.

  “Want something strong? Or something a little less potent?” His expert eye noticed the dark circles under her eyes, and his first thought was that she wasn’t getting enough rest at night. He might have to say something to Yulen about that.

  Atty shook her head. “Nothing that’ll knock me out. I need to stay alert, just in case.”

  He gave her a smile as he searched inside his medicine pouch for the right powder. “Don’t you think we can take care of ourselves for at least one afternoon without you? After all, we did manage to make it this far in life without your skills,” he teased her. Holding out a small reddish purse, he instructed, “Tip of the finger on this one. Of course, you could take three doses, but that’ll put you out for a good three or four hours. Think about it, Atty. You know you could ride double until you awaken.”

  She accepted the bag with a weak smile. “One dose, or three to knock me out. What does two doses do?”

  “It makes you loopy. Don’t go for two, Atty, unless you want to show us a side of yourself you need to keep just between you and Yulen.” Again his voice was teasing, but there was an undercurrent of an honest warning.

  “Got it,” she nodded slowly against the pain. “Thanks, Liam.” She turned and walked carefully back to where he knew Yulen would be waiting for her. A rustling in the trees alerted him, and he glanced up to see Madigan emerge from the underbrush. She’d finally changed into some sensible clothing more suited for the trail. Despite her age, Liam was pleased to learn she still had a very comely shape. She saw him watching her, and she gave him a warm smile.

  “Waiting on me?”

  “Not anymore,” he smiled just as warmly back, pulling her against him with one arm and planting a tender kiss full on her lips. No more corner kisses for him, he’d pledged to himself after last night. However, he also told himself, now was not the time to be thinking about such activities until the Battle Lord called a halt this evening.

  Giving her a gentle squeeze about the waist, he helped her into her saddle. Mounting his own horse, they went to join the line forming along the road.

  Yulen was not at the head, as he normally would be. Liam turned around and saw that he and Atty still stood at the edge of the woods. Instinctively he knew something was wrong, and he rode over to check.

  “Did you give her some medicine for a headache, Liam?” Yulen asked once the man was within earshot.

  Liam saw the paleness in Atty’s face, and a red flag went up in his mind. This was no ordinary headache. “Atty, you might be coming down with a migraine. Is it hard to think? Hard to focus?”

  Rather than answer him, she barely nodded. She was pressing the tips of her fingers against her temples to help against the throbbing pain.

  “How long have you had this?” he asked sharply.

  “I woke up...with it. It just got...worse...this past hour or so.” She had difficulty speaking. Her words echoed in her head like thunderous drumbeats.

  “Did you take just the one dose? Or more?”

  She held up three fingers. MaGrath grew even more concerned. The powder he’d given her was strong. If she’d taken three doses, she should have already begun to feel the medicine’s effect. “Take another dose, Atty,” he ordered.

  “Liam, is that safe?” Yulen countered. He had recognized the purse and knew what the greenish powder was capable of, having used it himself in the past.

  “I don’t know,” the physician answered truthfully. “Her biology may be different enough from ours so that she needs a varying dosage. Who can be sure? We’ll keep an eye on her in the meantime. Atty, want to double up with me?”

  “No,” she whispered. “I can ride.”

 
“Atty—”

  “I can ride,” she assured Yulen with a bit more force, although it cost her.

  Reluctantly, the Battle Lord helped her into her saddle and led the mare onto the road before handing her the reins. Swinging into his saddle, he moved her between Madigan and MaGrath, and gave the order to advance. The caravan resumed its quick pace, knowing they might reach Alta Novis a day early.

  He made a few quick checks among his men, several of whom inquired about Atty’s health. He assured them it was nothing more than a headache, which elicited a good-natured and somewhat bawdy comment from one old veteran Yulen had known all his life. Laughing, the Battle Lord headed back to the front of the line to check on her.

  What he found worried him even further.

  “She’s taken four doses,” MaGrath told him, his face grim. “I don’t dare let her take any more.”

  Yulen saw the grayness beginning to overtake her. There was a whiteness around her mouth that hadn’t been there when they’d stopped. “Atty, are you nauseous? Are you in any pain?” he asked her.

  “Just...dizzy. I can’t seem to...see straight.”

  MaGrath suddenly reined in, grabbing her horse’s lead to also stop her. Leaning over, he lifted her eyelids with his thumbs. His expert hands found her pulse under her ear, then picked up her own hands to examine her fingers. The stricken expression he finally turned toward the Battle Lord made the blood drain from Yulen’s face. “Yulen, she’s been poisoned.”

  “What?”

  Throwing out his arm to halt the caravan, Yulen was out of his saddle as Atty began to slide, semi-conscious, from her horse. He caught her and guided her down to the road. MaGrath knelt beside her as he dug frantically in his pouch. “Her skin’s clammy. Atty, can you hear me? Are you cold? Hot?”

  “C-cold,” she managed. Her eyes found Yulen. They were dazed, clouded. “Yul?”

  “I’m here,” he whispered. “Are you in any pain?”

  “No. But...my...numb.”

  MaGrath reached over, a small glass vial in his hand. He pulled out the cork stopper and poured the contents into her mouth. “Swallow, Atty.”

  “How could she have been poisoned?” Yulen asked him heatedly. “Could someone have done this to her?” His mind was filled with possible suspects and scenarios. Had she contracted something while she’d been Collaunt’s prisoner? Did he give her something to make her ill?

  The physician shook his head. “I have no idea. Atty, stay with us here a moment longer. Do you remember anything that could have caused this? Could it be an insect or animal bite?”

  “What did you give her?”

  “A basic anti-toxin, just to be on the safe side. But until I know for certain what kind of poison is doing this to her, I have no way of counteracting it. Atty!” MaGrath shook her shoulder until her eyelids fluttered open once more. “Atty, what did you eat today?”

  “The same thing I ate,” Yulen told him. “And I’m not having any problems.”

  Atty sighed softly and closed her eyes. MaGrath laid a hand on the side of her neck. He was especially worried about her heart rate. It shouldn’t be beating at nearly a hundred and ten beats per minute. “God, she’s burning up. Give me some water to cool her down! Yulen, hand me the sponge from my saddlebags.”

  Madigan snatched Atty’s water bag from her horse and handed it to MaGrath. He uncorked it and took the large yellow sponge handed to him, pouring out a small amount of water. Immediately he smelled the salty odor in his hand. Sniffing it, he also sniffed the neck of the water bag. Yulen looked from him to the bag. “What?”

  “It was the water,” MaGrath barely whispered. He raised terrified eyes to Yulen. “Her water was poisoned. Give me your bag. Quick!”

  He caught the full bag tossed to him, throwing the tainted sponge into the dirt, and began to pour the pure water over her neck and chest. “Yulen, try to get her to drink from your bag. If we’re extremely lucky, we might be able to dilute what’s in her system. Do you have any idea how much she may have swallowed?”

  Yulen could feel himself grow cold as he remembered her drinking from the bag the day before...and last night...and that morning, up until the time she’d taken the pain killer Liam had given her. “She’s been drinking from it for at least the last two days, ever since we left Bearinger. Oh, God...” He held the mouth of the bag to her mouth and dribbled a little bit between her lips. Her eyes remained closed. She was totally unresponsive.

  “Last night she offered me a swallow and I declined. She told me it tasted brackish anyway. She thought she might have gotten some sediment in it, which caused it to taste funny.”

  MaGrath nodded as he poured more water over her face and neck. “Did she take the medicine with this water? Of course she did,” he automatically corrected himself. “That’s why she had this reaction. The pain killer advanced the poison’s interaction with her system.” He felt the sting of tears as his guilt burned in his chest. “Oh, God, and I told her to take four doses of it...” His shoulders hitched, and he bowed his head.

  Yulen laid a hand to the man’s back and shook him. “What can we do? Do you have anything at Alta Novis which could help her?”

  MaGrath rubbed his face on his shirt sleeve. “It’s probably too late to try and induce vomiting. I can already detect its symptoms in her eyes and nails. No, there’s nothing I can do here, but if I can examine what’s left in that bag,” he told them, motioning toward the nearly empty skin clutched in Madigan’s hands, “I might be able to come up with some kind of counter-agent. I can’t promise anything, Yulen, but I can give it try.” He looked down at Atty’s fever-flushed skin. “We need to get her immersed in cool water as soon as possible to get her fever down, or else she could go into convulsions.”

  Yulen jumped to his feet and called for Mastin. “We’re going to continue toward the compound at attack pace. Warn the men and have them ready. Liam, hand me Atty, then get on your horse. Tie yourselves down, people. We’re going to make this a race like you’ve never seen.”

  He climbed into his saddle as MaGrath lifted the unconscious woman into his arms. Yulen used his weapons belt to secure her to him, supporting her head and upper body with his free arm. They were yards down the road by the time the physician could re-mount and follow.

  Because of the brisker pace the Battle Lord had set at the beginning of their ride back from Bearinger, he had reduced a normally three day travel to just under two. Now they were a mere four or five hours away from Alta Novis, and Yulen meant to cut that time in half.

  The company pushed their horses, racing at a steady lope so as not to tire the horses to the point of collapse. MaGrath could not remember ever having to go so far at this rate, and he worried whether they would make it back home before the poison made its way to her heart or nervous system, and permanently shut one of them down.

  An hour or so from Alta Novis, Yulen was forced to rein them all in and travel at a slower pace. All of the animals were covered in foamy sweat; some neared total exhaustion. Most had already stumbled at least once.

  In his arms Atty had gone from gray to an alabaster white. The veins under her skin could be seen like tiny red and blue lines in a crisscrossing pattern. Twice she’d opened her eyes, but there was no recognition in them, no spark of light. Her lips were turning black. She was radiating heat like a small sun. Her breathing alternated between shallow and ragged. At one point she began to gasp for air in great, rasping reaches that terrified him, forcing Yulen to pull up and wait for MaGrath to tell him what to do. The physician sealed his mouth over hers and began to breathe for her, forcing more air into her lungs, until she started to draw again on her own.

  Once the company was within sighting distance of the compound, Mastin raised the black flag, signaling an emergency run. Yulen urged his worn-out stallion for one last burst of strength, and the animal gave it once it saw the familiar gates.

  The second they were inside the compound, he pulled up and jumped from the saddle, dragging
Atty off from it and back into his arms. He ran the rest of the way into the main lodge, shouting orders.

  He went directly to his quarters, into the bathroom where Berta was already pouring buckets of water into the huge tub. Stripping Atty of her sweat-soaked clothes, Yulen laid her in the cooling water. The shock woke her, and for the first time in hours she turned dazed eyes on him.

  “Yul?”

  “It’s okay, Atty. You’re home. I put you in a cool bath to help bring down your fever.” Yulen saw the servant woman standing in the doorway, still holding the empty bucket. “Berta, as soon as MaGrath gets here, tell him where I have her.”

  “What’s wrong with her?” the older woman whispered, curious but now very concerned. For the first time Yulen could see how the servants and staff had come to care for the warrior woman. He also realized how much had happened since he’d left Alta Novis a week ago. The last news they’d been aware of was that of Atty’s kidnapping. The compound had no idea of her rescue, or of the Battle Lord’s taking of Bearinger.

  “Bring me Paxton,” he also ordered. The woman nodded and hurried away.

  A cold hand reached up to touch the long scar on his face. Yulen kept her fully immersed except for her face. In the water, her morning glory hair drifted like a deep blue blanket.

  “Yul...I’m dying, aren’t I?” Her voice was barely audible. She was having trouble forming her words.

  Tenderly he wiped her burning cheeks and forehead with his wet hands. What could he tell her without lying to her? How could he tell her the truth, without making her want to give up her struggle?

  Atty saw the fear and worry on his face. It was the only answer she needed. “I want...to...live,” she managed. She needed to reach up and touch him again, but her hand would no longer obey her. “I want...to marry you. I want my p-...pomp and pageantry. Yul...love...you.”

  “I love you, my beautiful and brave Atrilan,” he whispered as he watched her close her eyes. For a terrifying moment he thought she had slipped away from him until he saw the shallow rise of her breast. Shivering, he leaned over to kiss each closed eyelid.