The Battle Lord's Lady

by Linda Mooney

  Paxton pounded into the bedroom, making his way to the bath amid the crowd gathered there. Seeing the Battle Lord kneeling over the tub, he froze at the sight of Atty floating in the water.

  “Sir! Thank the stars you managed to get her back. What happened? What can I do?”

  Yulen looked up at the man he’d left in charge of the compound, a man he fully trusted, next to his Seconds. “Atty was poisoned by someone in the company, Warren. They should already be in the compound by now. I want every man confined to their quarters until they can be questioned.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “After they’re confined, I want you to check every man’s horse and saddlebags. I want every man stripped and have their clothing and personal objects checked. I want to know if you find anything unusual. A note, an empty vial, an empty pouch containing an unknown substance, anything.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Yulen gave him a last dark look. “That includes Mastin and his men. And my mother.”

  Paxton paled. “Sir?”

  “You heard me. The only person you are not to put through this interrogation is MaGrath. Am I clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now go. Tell Berta this water is warming. We need more cool. And find out where the physician is!” he yelled at the departing soldier.

  At the doorway stood several servants staring mutely at the tableau before them. Yulen had known many of them since he was a child. One servant in particular, an elderly man by the name of Petersen, softly came forward and asked what everyone was wanting to ask.

  “Sir...is she dying?”

  Yulen started to answer when his throat unexpectedly closed up on him. Clearing it, he tried again. “I’m going to fight like hell so she doesn’t.”

  “Is there anything we can do to help?” he offered.

  “Yeah,” he told them as the first of many tears fell onto his cheek. “Pray.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  War

  “Yulen.”

  At the sound of his name, the Battle Lord jumped to his feet. MaGrath held up both hands to stay the man from panicking. “Easy. There’s been no change.”

  Yulen remained fixed on the figure lying on his bed. Despite the cooling bath the fever still raged inside her body. Already the sheet covering her was damp. Her hair fanning over the pillow was soaked. She was unnaturally pale and looked as though she had been carved out of stone. Only a slight lifting and lowering of her chest gave proof she remained among the living.

  “She hasn’t awakened?” he asked in a raspy voice.

  MaGrath shook his head. He watched the man walk over to the side of the bed and sit in the chair the physician had vacated not too long ago. Grimacing, MaGrath went to stand beside him. “Yulen, something urgent’s come up.”

  “Have Mastin deal with it,” the Battle Lord said wearily.

  “Yulen, look at me,” MaGrath urged him softly. He flinched to see the dark hopelessness in the blue-gray eyes. The man had not left Atty’s side since their return to the compound the day before. In the meantime a massive search had been made of every soldier’s possessions and clothing who had been in the caravan to Bearinger. Nothing had been found. Paxton even personally questioned each man, including Mastin, regarding what had been in Atty’s water bag. It had been with a mixture of relief, pride, and regret that the lieutenant reported to his leader that every man had passed interrogation.

  Bowing to his great friend’s request, Yulen had allowed the physician to be the one to question Madigan. Deep in his heart he could not see his own mother doing such a heinous act, but he couldn’t forget her initial reaction to the warrior woman, nor the way she had treated her in the past. But he wasn’t surprised when the physician finally came to him to report she was just as devastated as they were by the turn of events.

  Which could only mean that the guilty was someone somewhere else. Someone who was still out there. Out there and waiting for the news to reach them of Atty’s passing.

  “The poison is a plant derivative I’m not familiar with,” MaGrath had announced that morning after spending most of the night studying the inside of the water bag. “All I can tell is that there are traces of a small red blossom and some leafy material, but there’s not enough for me to identify what the plant is or where it could have come from. I can tell you it gave the water a salty taste, which is why she found it brackish.”

  After another hour immersed in the tub, Atty had been moved to the big bed and kept cool with wet rags and compresses. Yulen personally took over that chore, turning away anyone who offered to spell him.

  It was now nearly noon, and MaGrath knew the man had not taken any food since their return. With the exception of changing out of his dirty clothes from the day before, the Battle Lord hadn’t even slept. He was terrified she would slip away if he did, and begged the physician for the powders he knew the man had that would help keep him awake.

  Meanwhile Atty’s condition slowly but surely deteriorated. It was just a matter of days, perhaps hours, when she would take her last breath. MaGrath swallowed dryly, fighting the squeezing pressure in his chest, and grabbed Yulen’s arm. “Yulen, we have an emergency outside the compound.”

  “I’m not leaving her side,” the man argued heatedly.

  “The compound is surrounded,” the physician hissed. “You better drag yourself away from her, or you’ll forever regret the consequences.”

  Giving him a venomous look, Yulen relented and followed him outside the bedroom where Mastin and Paxton were waiting for him.

  “Sir, there’s a representative and his entourage waiting to see you down in the main hall,” Mastin announced in a tight voice. Seeing the Battle Lord lift an eyebrow, he explained, “They’re Mutah, sir. From the Battle Lady’s compound.”

  MaGrath saw Yulen’s reaction to the nomenclature, and knew it was the first time the man had heard Atty referred to as such.

  “From Wallis?” Yulen asked.

  “Yes, sir. They’re requesting to see you immediately.”

  “Or?” It hadn’t been difficult to see there was more going on that what he was being told.

  “Or they’re going to declare war on us,” Paxton finished.

  Yulen glanced from the Second to his lieutenant and back. “All right, let me have the rest of it. They’re going to declare war on us...and?”

  Mastin clenched his jaw. “That’s it, sir. They’re prepared to go to war with us. Now.”

  “Now?”

  It was Paxton who nodded and dropped the other shoe.

  “They’ve already surrounded the compound, sir. There has to be at least a thousand or more of them. Mutah, sir. Armed and ready to swarm Alta Novis.”

  Yulen pivoted on his heel and reentered the bedroom to grab his weapons belt where it hung on the chair beside the bed. Leaning over Atty, he gave her a tender kiss on her sweaty forehead, then followed his men out of the room and down the stairs, into the main hall.

  The entourage of representatives numbered five. The Mutah at the head was a man Yulen didn’t recognize, although one of the other four looked familiar. It wasn’t hard to remember a man with foot-long fingers.

  The leader stepped forward, an elderly man wearing a short robe over leather pants. He had slits in his cheeks, which opened and closed as he breathed, since he had no nose. Yulen felt the tension in the room as his men stood at their stations. They were prepared, but would make no move toward the group unless Yulen signaled to them, or he himself went down.

  “You are Yulen D’Jacques,” the elderly man stated for verification.

  Yulen nodded. “I am. Who do I address?”

  “My name’s Piron George. I’m the head of the Council of Elders at Wallis. I’m accompanied by my fellow councilmen Twoson Pike, Session Bond, Collier Vogel, and Atty’s elected guardian, Fortune Kalich.”

  Yulen stared at the one referred to as Atty’s guardian. He appeared to be a strong and formidable man. A lion-like tail whipped nervously a
gainst the back of his legs.

  “What are your dealings with me this day?” Yulen asked, keeping his voice steady. If it weren’t for the knowledge that over a thousand armed Mutah stood outside the huge double doors of the compound, he wouldn’t be standing in the hall. Even now Atty was slipping away from him.

  “We’ve come prepared to do to your compound what you and other Battle Lords like you have done to our kind for generations,” George announced loudly and firmly.

  “I understand,” Yulen nodded. “However, you wouldn’t be here speaking with me unless you were willing to negotiate a treaty of some sort. Otherwise you would have already attacked us. Alta Novis has over three hundred civilians, and slightly less than three hundred armed and trained soldiers to protect her, which I’m guessing you are already aware of. My men tell me your army numbers over a thousand troops.”

  “Thirteen hundred,” the one called Vogel whistled. The skin on his face and neck was leathery, and he revealed sharply pointed teeth when he spoke.

  “Then we are at your mercy,” Yulen conceded. “What are your terms of surrender?”

  George started. “You’re willing to surrender so easily?” he asked in surprise.

  Yulen gave a slight nod and kept his hands away from his weapons. Although he was armed, he didn’t want to give them the impression that he was a threat. “You are generally a peaceful people. And, despite the fact that I am a Battle Lord, I don’t go seeking bloodshed. My initial goal is first to protect those I serve.”

  “Then why have you repeatedly attacked our compound?” Vogel growled.

  “Because you have attacked us, wait!” He held up a hand to stay any angry denials. “Let me clarify that. We have been attacked in the past by those Mutah known as Bloods. But, regrettably, back then we believed all Mutah were alike. We retaliated. I know differently now, and I am in the process of trying to correct any wrongs I’ve committed.”

  George’s eyes narrowed. His cheek slits blew wider. “Why this sudden change of heart, Cleaner?”

  Yulen turned to him. “Why? Because I have had a change of heart. Because of Atty.”

  “Atty!” Two of the representatives echoed her name. George held up his hands to silence them.

  “Go on,” the leader ordered.

  The Battle Lord took a deep breath. “Atty has taught me the difference between your people and mine is not as vast as we’ve been taught. Our elders, our parents were wrong. You didn’t ask to be made like you are, not any more than my people asked to remain untouched. Ultimately, we both desire the same things. We want to love and be loved. We want to have a long life that holds more happiness than sorrow. We want to bear children who’ll continue our legacy and, hopefully, keep our memories alive. And we want to survive without the threat of war, extinction, or annihilation. So, I ask you again, what are the terms of your surrender? Because the sooner you let me know, the sooner I can attempt to comply. Then you can go back to your compound in peace, and I can keep my people protected, as I swore to do when I took my father’s sword and accepted this position.”

  “We’re here because of Atty,” the one mentioned as her guardian announced.

  “Kalich, right?” Yulen repeated.

  “Fortune Kalich, that’s right.”

  “You’re her, what? Elected guardian? What’s that?”

  “When she lost her mother and sister, she was left orphaned. Our laws protect those left without any family, and place them with others who are willing to shelter them. Atty’s father and I were close friends, so my wife and I offered to become her guardians and take her into our house.”

  Yulen nodded, taking in this bit of news, and forcing himself to accept the man’s compassion. There was so much to re-learn and accept about the Mutah. Slowly, by degrees, the differences between them and him were disappearing, vanishing, until soon there would be nothing left but a small, if somewhat noticeable, physical abnormality that would set them apart. Thanks to Atty and her courage, her strength of conviction, and her stubbornness in getting him to see her world through her eyes.

  Thinking of her, Yulen unconsciously glanced up to the top of the stairs where MaGrath was watching from the doorway of the bedroom. When the physician waved a hand to let him know her situation remained the same, he shivered with relief.

  “Our terms are threefold and simple,” George told him, noticing where the man’s attention had lingered. “And Atty is the main reason we’re here.”

  Yulen’s attention snapped back to him. “Atty?”

  “When you attacked Wallis and kidnapped her, that was when we decided it was time to turn the tables.”

  Cursing himself, the Battle Lord remembered his own two representatives he’d left behind to watch over the compound. “Where are my men?” he asked tightly.

  “They’re fine,” George reassured him. “They came with us, but asked not to be a part of our forces. They chose to remain by your side, even against the overwhelming odds. I have to commend you, D’Jacques. Their loyalty is refreshing.”

  “They’re unharmed?”

  “Yes, as are the others who tried to defend this compound upon our arrival. If you care to look out your doors and windows, you’ll see we’ve already captured a fair portion of your honor guard, which is how we managed to get this far to see you,” George said.

  Yulen had no doubt the man was speaking the truth. “Continue, please.”

  “Here are our conditions. One, return Atty to us. Two, send no more ‘representatives’ to Wallis, or to any other Mutah compound you encounter. And, finally, three, never again attack another Mutah compound. Because the day you do, we will reassemble our army and lead it back to your gates, and this compound and all who inhabit it, will be burned to the ground. Those are our conditions. Would you like some time to consider them?”

  “Why is Atty part of this?” Yulen asked in a low voice.

  “She’s our best hunter and warrior. Without her, we would have suffered greatly this past winter. Not only does she keep our larders filled, but she protects us from the mutated animals which live in the forests around us,” George answered.

  The heavily obese one called Pike spoke up for the first time since their introduction. “D’Jacques, I sense something amiss.”

  George looked at him. “What is it, Twoson?”

  The man waved a beefy hand in Yulen’s direction. “He’s hiding something from us. I sense it every time Atty’s name is mentioned. Where is she, Cleaner? What have you done with her?”

  George held up a hand to still his friend and turned back to the Battle Lord. “Is she here?”

  “Yes, she’s here. She’s upstairs.”

  All five pairs of eyes looked up at the balcony where MaGrath kept vigil. “Are you keeping her prisoner?” George softly asked.

  “No.” Yulen shook his head. “She’s taken ill, and my physician is trying to save her.

  “Save her?” Kalich asked, alarmed. “Why? What have you done to her, you heartless son of a bitch?” He took a step toward the Battle Lord, but was held back by George’s extended arm. Around them Yulen’s soldiers placed their hands on their weapons and paused, ready and waiting for the word from their leader.

  However, Yulen forced himself to keep his hand away from the pommel of his own sword, knowing that the moment he went for it, the five men before him were dead. And soon afterwards, so would they all.

  “Someone tried to poison her,” he told them, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. If not, the one called Pike would call him on it. “Someone in my company will pay for what they’ve tried to do. That I promise you.”

  “Why would you care if she dies or not?” Kalich called out. “Why not give her to us now and let us go home?”

  “Fortune, calm heads, remember? D’Jacques, can Atty walk out on her own?”

  “No. She has a high fever and she’s unconscious. There’s a strong chance...” Suddenly Yulen found he couldn’t continue. There was mist rising over his eyes, and his hea
d was threatening to explode. He lifted a trembling hand to his forehead, acutely aware that every gesture he made was being watched by his men.

  “My name is Liam MaGrath. I’m Atty’s physician,” a voice carefully said beside him. Yulen turned to see his friend presenting his best authoritative face to the entourage. “I’ve been studying the plant that was put in Atty’s water bag, but I haven’t been able to figure out what she’s been poisoned with.”

  “Can you describe it?” George asked.

  “Some kind of little red flower, along with the leaves. Bifurcated. That’s all I can ascertain. Oh, except it made the water salty. Brackish, she called it.”

  “Borash?” Vogel murmured, looking at the others.

  “Sounds like it,” Pike responded. The others nodded in agreement.

  Yulen stared at them. “Borash? What’s that?”

  “A tiny red flower, related to the scarlet pimpernel. In very minute amounts it can calm a racing heart, preventing it from stopping altogether. But you have to be extremely careful not to use too much, or it can have the opposite effect.” Vogel blinked rapidly. “You said it was in her water bag?”

  “She drank what might have been at least a liter of the tainted water. We’ve tried to induce vomiting, but without results. We’ve also tried to force more fluids into her, but the poison’s working too quickly. Please tell us you have an antidote for this borash,” MaGrath begged softly.

  A blackness seemed to envelope the room as George slowly shook his head. “None that I know of. But, then again, none of us here are trained in the medicinal arts.”

  Looking directly at Yulen, the elderly leader said, “Give us Atty so we can take her back to her home where she belongs. She deserves to die where she was born, among those of us who love her and care about her, and who watched her grow up and become the type of woman she was destined to be. Let us leave with her now, and give us your word that you will uphold our last two conditions, and we will leave you in peace. What do you say, D’Jacques?”