by Linda Mooney
“Thanks.”
There was a pause in whatever he was doing. Another minute nearly ticked by when she felt his hand on her calf.
“That’s what I’m here for.”
“You know what I meant.”
“I do.” He sighed. “Ready for me to help you sit up?”
She nodded, gritting her teeth. The compress and medicants helped, or else she wouldn’t have been able to do what it took to get her propped up. A pillow at her back helped. They were nearly ready when Yulen walked back into the clinic with a fussy infant in his arms. Wordlessly he handed Mattox over to her and helped drape the blanket over her shoulder to keep her warm.
The baby latched onto her nipple with zeal. His ruby-red eyes gazed up at her as he hungrily sucked. The surge of milk being pulled from her breast was welcome relief. Atty sighed loudly and leaned against the strong bulk of her husband’s chest. Together they sat side-by-side on the examination table as they watched their son nurse.
No words passed between them as the soothing peace and quiet wrapped them in their own little world of solitude. Liam left the room at some point to check on his other patients.
Atty felt her husband place a kiss above her ear and tuck several loose strands of hair behind it. “I’m glad you found the boy safe and sound,” he rumbled softly, dropping his hand to her opposite hip.
The sound of his father’s voice diverted Mattox’s attention away from his mother’s gaze. The infant gave a little grin around the plump nipple before resuming his meal. A tiny hand reached upward. Yulen caught it with his thumb and watched as the baby’s fingers curled around it.
“He used his training when he was out there. He didn’t lose his cool. He didn’t panic. If he had, he wouldn’t have survived. Did you give him the tail?”
“Yeah. He was stunned.” So was he and his men, Yulen almost confessed. The thick, gray tail had been at least a yard long. If the tail was accepted as a third of the wolf’s length, then the creature she had killed had to have been at least eight to nine hundred pounds. Definitely a bachelor male, or else the ending to their story would have been much different if the kid had attracted a roaming pack.
“If he chooses to become a soldier, he’ll be a fine addition.” She shifted slightly. A hiss sucked through her teeth when her back protested the movement. Yulen gave her hip a squeeze with his fingers.
“Want something to drink?”
“Yeah. I could do with a glass of water.”
“Or milk?” He tossed her a smile as he slid off the table. Atty returned it.
“Or milk.”
“I won’t be gone long. I need to clear off my paperwork, then I’ll be back.” He didn’t wait for her reply, disappearing out of the examination room on silent feet.
The room grew quiet again. Mattox suckled noisily and stretched his long legs beneath his swaddling blanket. Chuckling, she switched him to the other breast and was tucking the cloth around him when a single knock came at the door. She glanced up to see Liam poke his head around.
“Atty, Danna Abalam wants to see you. Do you feel up to it?”
“Is she alone?”
“Yeah.”
Atty gave him a nod as her answer, lifting one corner of the blanket to cover her other bare breast. Then she waited.
Another knock came a moment later. Liam opened the door and ushered the woman in before giving Atty a questioning look. She knew why he was reluctant to leave her. Nodding slightly, she assured him, “Go on. We’ll be okay.”
It was what he had wanted to hear. Flashing a quick grin, he closed the door, leaving the two women alone.
Atty watched as the woman looked about the small examination room. Her eyes lingered on the stainless steel bowl heaped with bloody rags. The torn and stained tunic they had been forced to cut off of Atty was still lying on the table next to it. Slowly, the two women locked eyes. “I came to give you my thanks,” Danna reluctantly said in a low voice.
“You’re welcome.”
“I still don’t care for Mutah. I still don’t care for you,” the woman admitted.
“That’s okay,” Atty told her in all honesty. There would be those who would never accept her or the treaties she and Yulen were forging between their people. Hundreds of years of hate and prejudice would not be eradicated within their lifetime. She and Yulen acknowledged that. But she knew that what they had started would continue to grow and flourish so that, over time, and with luck, what they had begun would reap benefits in the future. Among those benefits being peace.
Mattox was half Mutah, but he bore a mark that would challenge him all his life. If her and Yulen’s son was to be the next Battle Lord of Alta Novis, they had to prepare him for the world, as well as prepare the world for him. Their initial steps were the beginning. It would be up to Mattox and any other children they might be blessed with to take up the reins and carry through.
Danna’s eyes dropped to the child growing sleepy against Atty’s breast. His face was slack as the tiny rosebud lips tugged drowsily on the nipple. Slowly, Atty disengaged him and laid him over her shoulder to burp him.
“Was there anything else you needed to tell me?” Atty asked softly.
“No.” The woman shook her head and reached for the doorknob. “No. That was it.”
Nodding, Atty added as the woman turned to leave, “Case will make a fine soldier if he chooses that as his life’s ambition. But he will also make an excellent hunter. I wouldn’t…”
Danna paused, halfway out the door. “You wouldn’t what?”
“I wouldn’t mind showing him a few ropes if he wants to go out again.”
To her surprise, the woman seemed to consider it. “We’ll see,” she finally responded, and left.
Atty remained focused on the door. Mattox let go with a nice belch before reaching for a handful of his mother’s deep blue hair.
How would she be able to convince the woman that the reason she had gone out to find Case was not out of any sense of loyalty or protectiveness she believed was her duty as the Battle Lady? Laying a hand on her son’s back, she rubbed a cheek against his warm, vibrant body. How could she convince Danna Abalam that the main reason she had gone to hunt for the woman’s son was because she now knew the depth of a mother’s love for her child?
Her pondering was interrupted by a third knock on the door. This time it was her husband with a tankard of cold milk. All further musings fled her mind as she reveled in the love and attention he came to give to her and their son.
Chapter Ten
Alta Seran
“I said get out! Now!”
Janelle Callahan stood in the hallway and waited for the inevitable eruption to occur. The door to her son’s room was already open. A heartbeat after hearing his roar of disgust, Moiven Sees rushed out, barely dodging the dagger that followed him. The Second ducked, and the slender blade buried itself in the oaken wall behind him.
“When you have those men in better formation, then you can venture to stick your nose back into my room. Am I clear?” the roar continued.
Straightening, Sees turned to face his Battle Lord. “Quite clear, Sir.” Giving a snappy salute, he pivoted and began to hurry down the hall, back to the practice field where the men were waiting. Seeing Janelle standing in the middle of the passageway, he gave her a nod of acknowledgment.
“Bad day?” she whispered as he rushed by.
“No more than usual,” the man curtly replied and flashed her a brief grin. He quickly disappeared around the corner.
Bracing herself, the woman tried to appear unaffected by the show of anger as she worked the dagger out of the wall and continued into the man’s study without knocking or announcing herself first. There was no need to anyway, she told herself. Rafe D’Jacques could bully all the others as much as he wanted, but he wasn’t going to have that attitude around his own mother. She wouldn’t allow it. Besides, where did he think he got that ability to run roughshod over people?
The man was leaning
over a table with his back to her. In front of him the fireplace threw shadows against the walls and flickers of light over the dark brown hair as it outlined the powerful, broad shoulders. The lantern sitting on the table near his arm was the only other source of light. He must have heard her come into the room, but he didn’t turn around to face her as he brusquely asked, “What do you want?”
“Your full attention for the next fifteen minutes,” Janelle snapped.
His entire body went rigid. Whirling around, Rafe glared at his mother standing just inside the room. Cobalt blue eyes dropped to the dagger she was holding in one hand, then to the missive she had in her other hand, before looking back up at her. “I’m busy, Mother. Make it quick.”
She walked over and handed him his dagger, which he silently accepted and slid back into its sheath. Then she gave him the envelope she had already opened.
He knew better than to ask her what was in it. He grimaced as he pulled out the thick sheet of paper and unfolded it to read it for himself. She was expecting the surprised and confused expression that came over him as he reread the announcement, and she wasn’t disappointed.
“D’Jacques?” he questioned.
“Yes.”
“I thought you said his name was Rory.”
Janelle pressed her lips together. “Sit down, Rafe.”
“I would prefer to stand.”
“All right,” she nodded. “Then I’ll sit down.”
He watched irritably as the older woman seated herself in the only chair in the room. The place may have been the Battle Lord’s study, but everyone else thought of it as the War Room where he planned his strategies. Rafe rarely sat, preferring instead to pace about as he thought aloud.
Once she had crossed her legs and gotten comfortable, she waved a hand at the sheet of paper he continued to hold. “You remember what I told you about Ransom D’Jacques?”
“You said he and my grandfather were best of friends. They founded and built Alta Seran.”
“That’s right.” She nodded. “Ransom was the Battle Lord of Alta Novis that his great grandfather had built. Daddy was his Second. They were on a cleaning mission when they came across this area.”
“Yeah, I remember the story. It was a tiny compound, barely surviving as well as disorganized and prone to attacks from Mutah. After they seized it, Grandfather stayed and became the Battle Lord, and Ransom returned to Alta Novis.” Rafe shifted slightly in order to lean against the table. “Where’s all this going, Mother?” He shook the paper at her. “Who is Yulen D’Jacques?”
“Apparently he’s your half-brother. Your younger brother.”
Janelle watched as her son’s face went slack with surprise. A moment later he recovered, glancing back at the paper to read it a third time.
“Rory was Ransom’s son. He became the next Battle Lord after Ransom died. Rory was on a cleaning mission with his father when they came here. We had a huge celebration. I met your father, I fell in love with him, but he didn’t reciprocate. He was honest with me. He told me there was another woman back at Alta Novis whom he planned to marry. He loved her. I didn’t care. We had a week together, then they left.”
“And you never sent him word about me.” Rafe repeated the story he had heard ever since he was old enough to ask and understand why he existed when his mother had never taken a husband. His sharp eyes caught the sadness she couldn’t hide. Her son knew she would always carry that flame of unrequited love for the man who had fathered him.
“I had long arguments with myself,” Janelle admitted. “In the end I came to a simple conclusion. If I sent him word about you, it may cause more trouble than either of us would have wanted. He had told me he didn’t love me, but at a subconscious level he desired me. And maybe cared about me.” She shook her head, lost in her memories. “No. By keeping my mouth shut, I guaranteed you would become the next Battle Lord after Richard died.” Somehow a trembling smile found her lips. “Rory would have Alta Novis and his wife. And maybe a male heir.” Again she shook her head, adding a sigh.
“Why haven’t you told me all of this before? Why did you just give it piecemeal to me?” Rory asked in a softer tone. He was not a man known for his sentimentality or gentleness. Quite the opposite. But his mother meant more to him than he led people to believe. Just as his grandfather had been the dominant male figure in his life until last year.
It didn’t surprise him when she shrugged her shoulders. Lifting the thick vellum sheet clutched in his hand, he questioned, “Why am I getting this invitation? This…” He glanced at the sheet to remark upon it. “This…invitation to attend a summit conference?” He read a bit more, and his face reddened with anger. “To establish a peace agreement between Mutah and Normals? The man wants peace with the Mutah?”
“Keep reading” Janelle told him. “There’s more”
Rafe read the rest of the document more slowly. “And to celebrate a renewal of vows between him and his wife.” He glared at his mother. “Why would I care that I have a half-brother?”
This time the glitter that came into her eyes was not because of tears or wistful thoughts. “Because it’s time for you to face the fact that you are Rory D’Jacques firstborn son. Therefore you are the rightful heir and Battle Lord of Alta Novis. Not Yulen. And definitely not any heir the second son may have.”
Rafe would recognize her hard, brittle look of righteous anger better than anyone. Seeing the definant jut of her chin, he demanded, “What are you not telling me, Janelle? C’mon. Spit it out.”
“I spoke with the soldiers who delivered the invitation. They were on their way to Finnock before turning around to head back. I asked them about Rory and this Yulen D’Jacques. I questioned them about Alta Novis. That woman Rory’s other son is renewing his vows with? The one called Atrilan? She’s a Mutah.”
She was delighted to see the disgust come over him, knowing she had experienced that same feeling crawl under her skin not an hour ago.
“And my father allowed him to wed one of those perversions of nature?”
This time she couldn’t help the tears that suddenly welled hotly in her eyes. “Rory died two years ago,” she said. “The soldiers said he was killed in a Mutah attack. His son took up the sword.”
“And now you want me to go to Alta Novis to do what? Take what you believe is rightfully mine?” Rafe tossed the paper onto the table and turned back to her. “For what purpose? I already own a compound.”
“Think, Rafe. This woman has apparently convinced D’Jacques to initiate those treaties between Alta Novis and other Mutah compounds. They want universal peace, and to establish trade agreements. That creature has somehow put a spell on him. She’s turned him away from the truth.” Janelle made a vague gesture with one hand. “If things had been different, if this woman had been normal like she should have been, and there wasn’t all that talk about Mutah compounds joining with Normal ones…” Her eyes ventured to the sheet of paper on the desk. “I would have burned that damn notice right after I’d gotten it.”
She could see his hands beginning to clench, and the sight of it made her smile. Her son was thinking. Even better, he was letting his hatred toward all things Mutah fuel what would become action. She hoped that action would further incite him to do what she prayed he would do. What she had been steering him toward doing for all these years. Rafe D’Jacques never took orders from anyone. Not even from his mother. At least not since he was fourteen. She had quickly discovered that in order to get Rafe to do what she wanted, all she needed to do was to feed upon his hatred of all things unnatural. It had taken her all his life, but she had succeeded in making him believe that all the woes brought upon this earth were caused by those creatures, those mutants, being here. That their existence was responsible for the attacks on the compound. And that his beloved grandfather would still be among them if not for the Mutah hoards.
“You’re telling me he’s making treaties with Mutah? For what purpose?”
“I don’t know.
I can’t begin to imagine letting Mutah roam around unguarded inside a compound, much less marrying one.” Janelle pressed her normally full lips into a thin line. “It’s not right, Rafe. He’s making a mockery of Alta Novis. This Yulen doesn’t deserve to be Battle Lord. Hell, he’s not even acting like a Battle Lord!”
Rafe took a step toward the chair where she was unconsciously gripping the arms with white knuckles. “So you want me to take Alta Novis and cleanse it of these Mutah that have begun to infiltrate it?”
“Yeah. That’s exactly what I want you to do.”
Sapphire blue eyes met emerald green. The thoughts that passed between them were inevitable. That was probably why she had allowed him to take up the sword of Battle Lord so soon after Richard’s death. With his arm and her cunning, they made a superb pair.
“Very well, Mother.” He smiled broadly. “When do we leave?”
“The celebration is on the twelfth. If we leave tomorrow, we might make it there by the thirteenth,” she estimated.
“Ooooo.” He feigned disappointment. “You don’t want to push the caravan and make it in time for their renewal of vows?”
Her answer was in the glint of steel he saw come into her eyes. “Let them have their day, Rafe. We’ll just take away their happily ever after.”
Chapter Eleven
Overwhelmed
Yulen ran a hand over his face and tried to concentrate on the reports before him. Fortunately, the main lodge was practically deserted, or else he wouldn’t have gotten as much done as he had. It didn’t matter anyway. There was still a mountain of tallies and estimations waiting for his remarks or signature. The whole damn thing was beginning to give him a headache—to the point where he would be grateful for any diversion that would drag him away from the table for even the slightest amount of time.
As if on cue, MaGrath entered the room from the side entrance and disappeared into the kitchen area. Yulen immediately knew where the man had been, and why he was here now. Shoving aside the handful of personal requests he had been trying to make sense of for the past half hour, he folded his hands in front of his face and waited for the good doctor to reappear.
