A Battle Lord’s Heart

Copyright
©
2011 by
Linda Mooney

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ISBN
978-1-4507-1946-9

The Battle Lord Saga

The
Battle Lord's Lady

Her
Battle Lord's Desire

A
Battle Lord's Heart

For
more information about Linda Mooney books

And
titles, please visit her website.

www.LindaMooney.com

Chapter
One

Target
Practice

           
“Battle Lord about!”

           
Although the call had been made loud
enough to be heard on this side of the compound, it filtered much softer
through the closed windows.

           
Atty slowly opened her eyes to the
empty indentation beside her on the bed. If she put her hand on the pillow she
knew she’d find it still warm and smelling of him. That man could dress faster
than anyone she knew. Atty grinned. He could also strip faster.

           
After her revelation yesterday,
Yulen had gone outside and personally rung the bell to gather the townspeople
together. She’d watched from the bedroom window as he proudly announced the
news that she was pregnant. Then, to her surprise, he confided in them the
additional problems they would be facing. He told them about the high infant
death rate among Mutah, and the undeniable risk of miscarriage and stillbirth.
Once he had explained, he’d asked for their help in watching out for her,
requesting that they notify MaGrath if at any time they saw she was in distress
or needed help.

           
When he was finished, he’d stepped
off the short dais into a sea of congratulatory wishes and handshakes.

           
That night, when he’d made love to
her, she could tell something had changed between them. At first Atty couldn’t
put a clear definition on it. It wasn’t until he had fallen asleep with his
warm palm resting possessively on her abdomen was she able to grasp a small
sense of what it was.

           
In his well-ordered yet highly
stressful life, she was the one thing that remained elusive. His most cherished
thing in life, even greater than life itself. But she was Mutah, and because
she was, there would always be the chance she could or would leave him
again—voluntarily or involuntarily. Deep down, somehow, he had managed to keep
that fear of losing her at bay. Yet, the wound inflicted upon him when she’d
been removed to Wallis on their wedding day had not healed. Neither would it
ever be forgotten.

           
Until now. Until the moment when
she’d whispered for the third time the news of his impending fatherhood against
his lips. The news had acted like an all-encompassing salve, soothing over that
wound, that fear. Healing him totally, and finally ridding him of the rank
blackness that had been festering in him these past months.

           
The baby was part of him, and the
legacy of Alta Novis. The baby could never be taken away from its destiny.
Which meant Atty would never again leave him, or be forced to leave him, as no
one would dare to separate the mother from her child.

           
That hope and belief was what he now
clung to and fervently believed.

           
At that moment she had become that
much more precious to him. So when he had taken her into his arms and made
mind-numbing love to her last night, it no longer had the frenzied sense of
fear it had always held. He would no longer allow those demons to pursue him or
cruelly taunt him with the possibility it might be their last night together.
Their last night in each other’s arms, in each other’s bodies.

           
Her eyes widened. Suddenly it became
clear why he’d treated her with such venom when she’d gone outside the compound
in pursuit of the Bloods. It was because she’d left him. Not because she’d left
the compound or its protection. Not because she’d disregarded his strict
orders.
She had left him.

           
A soft knock at the door drew her
attention. A scant second later a familiar round face popped around the edge of
the door. “Oh, good, you’re awake! You know it’s well past breakfast, and the
tables have been cleared,” Berta told the figure partially wrapped in a
sheet.
 
Seeing the woman’s face fall at
the loss of a meal, the housekeeper grinned. “Ah, but I knew you’d be starving,
so I brought up a tray.”

           
She opened the door wider and
bustled in with a fully loaded tray, and sat it on the small writing table.
“The Battle Lord said to let you sleep in if you wished.” She smiled even
wider. “It’s wonderful news to hear you’re carrying a baby, Atty. You know you
can count on me if there’s anything I can do to help you out.”

           
Getting up on her knees and drawing
the sheet tighter around her, Atty brushed a long lock of hair out of her face.
“Thanks for the tray, Berta. What would I do without you? Yes, there are a few
things you can help me with! I just wish I knew where to begin first.” She gave
the woman a look of absolute confusion. “Berta, how long have you lived at Alta
Novis?”

           
“Ah.” The housekeeper dropped her
chin as she thought. “Fortyyy- four years, Atty. In that time I’ve seen this
place grow and get busier. I worked for your husband’s parents, and I’ve
married and had four of my own children.”

           
“Four?” Atty sat with mouth agape.
“And they all lived?”

           
Berta started and opened her mouth
to make a comment, when she remembered what the Battle Lord had told them.
Mutah women had difficulty conceiving and carrying a child, with the odds
heavily against them that the baby would be born alive even if they did manage
to make it through the nine months.
 
Immediately her slight irritation was replaced with deep sympathy.

           
“Yes, all four nice, healthy
children. Three boys and a girl.
 
They’re all grown up now, with families of their own. My two youngest
live here. Blakeney and his wife live in Port Destiny, down to the south. And
Dannson and his wife live in Foster City.” Berta cocked her head as she watched
the woman get up from the bed and go over to the tray to reach first for the
mug of milk. “You already know my daughter’s husband.
 
He’s the compound’s knifesmith.”

           
Atty’s eyes brightened. “Cavender!
Your son-in-law is Cavender? He made my Ballock.”

           
“I know. He told me all about his
encounter with you. Life here in the compound is the same as it is where you’re
from. Everyone is connected to everyone, one way or another, or knows all about
everyone else. Whatever you do to one of us, you do to all of us. The compound
grapevine is strong and thriving in Alta Novis,” she smiled.

           
Her observant eye noticed how the
Mutah woman wrapped a link of sausage in a slice of toast, rolling it together
before taking a bite out of it as she went over to the bureau to get out some
clean clothes.
 
When Atty dropped the
sheet to dress, the housekeeper was taken aback by the woman’s ease with having
her in the room. Then again, she told herself, there weren’t many people she
was comfortable enough having around in close proximity.
 
Atty made friends easily, but the
housekeeper had quickly learned she trusted only a handful.

           
“Damn.”

           
Walking over to where the young
woman was trying to button on her pants, Berta chuckled and shook her head.
“You’re getting a bit too big for your britches already. Well, it was bound to
happen.”

           
“What do women do when their clothes
don’t fit anymore?” Atty asked, clearly unhappy to learn her favorite pants
were no longer an option.

           
“Let me take these over to Mr.
O’Meyers and see if he can replace these buttons with more buttonholes. That’ll
give you a few more weeks where you can lace them up. After that, we’ll get you
something you can be comfortable in. Don’t worry, Atty. I’ll take care of it.
In the meantime, you don’t need to be wearing anything tight or binding.”

           
Her eyes glanced over the woman’s
trim figure, the already perfect breasts and long, statuesque legs, and noticed
the subtle swelling of her abdomen. From the moment she first arrived, it was
clear Atty truly was a beautiful woman despite her battered, half-starved
appearance. But in the few months she’d been living at the compound she’d gone
from scrawny to shapely, from budding to blossomed, molded by enough food and
the Battle Lord’s love. Even without the wealth of dark indigo-colored hair,
she turned men’s heads whenever she passed by. And she had no idea how she
appeared to others.
 
For Atty, as long
as she had a clean pair of pants and a tunic, she was happy. She had no use for
fashion, no need for all the niceties other women gawked about and tried to emulate.
No urgency to have the right color or fit or fabric.

           
Berta smiled. The Battle Lady fit no
mold. She was as open and bright and refreshing as a new day, without any
expectations but hope. She was as different from anyone else the woman had ever
known, and there was no doubt in her mind that was the biggest reason why the
Battle Lord had fallen in love with her.

           
“Your body is going to change a lot,
Atty. Better be expecting it.”

           
“Yeah. I heard.” The woman looked
down at herself, and ran her fingers over her slightly protruding tummy. “Still
hard to believe there’s another living person in there.” For a long minute she
remained staring at the first true evidence of what she’d only heard stories
about, then Atty turned around and wrapped her arms around the matronly woman’s
waist, laying her cheek against the ample bosom.
 
Berta held her, understanding how frightened the woman was about
the future.

           
“You are going to be the most
beautiful, the most fortunate woman I’ve ever known. Even more than Madam was
when she was carrying your husband.”

           
Blue-gray eyes glanced up at her.
“You were here when Yulen was born?”

           
“Oh, yeah. I helped deliver him. We
had no doctor at the compound at that time. Vernon Galway, our old physician,
died five months before she was due.”

           
“What about Liam?”

           
“He was up in Far Troit, learning to
be a doctor. He’d worked under Dr. Galway for about two years before he went up
there. Never knew the old man had a heart attack until he came back the
following year to take up the residency.”

           
“What do you mean, he never knew?
 
You didn’t send word the doctor had died?”