Every Battle Lord's Nightmare (17 page)

            He snorted. “We make a fine pair, Attycake.”

            It took her a few moments before she responded. “I miss Liam.”

            “So do I, my love.”

            “Do you think…” Her voice trailed off, but he could guess what she was referring to.

            “Are you wondering if Liam could have done a better job than Fergus at keeping me well? Is that what you’re asking?”

            “Yes.”

            He gave a slight shrug. “Who knows? It doesn’t matter now, anyway, does it?”

            She shifted to a more comfortable position. He knew she was having back problems with this pregnancy, and sitting for long periods bothered her.

            “You know, I’ve been meaning to talk with you about…more children,” he softly told her.

            “What about them?”

            “Well… We have Mattox, and soon we’ll have a little girl. That’ll give us one of each. Considering the difficulty you had carrying him, and now this one, why don’t we call a halt at having more? For the sake of your health?”

            “I hope to hell you’re not talking about no longer making love to me,” she quipped.

            “Oh, God, no.” He snorted. “That would never be an option. No, I’m talking about having Liam do a few snips to keep me from making any more babies.”

            “Yulen, I swear to God, if I see that man take a knife anywhere near your nether parts, I’m going to throw him into next Wednesday.” Her comment was made jokingly, but there was a clear threat running through the undercurrent. “If we decide not to have any more children, I’ll start chewing tunsul leaves again.”

           
Tunsul leaves. The Mutah method of birth control.
Yulen agreed it would be less invasive than to have himself clipped, but the plant had its side effects, too. Before he could say anything further, Atty spoke again.

            “Let’s not make that decision now. Let’s talk about it later, after our daughter is born.”

            “Speaking of, do we have a name for her yet?”

            “I haven’t decided. You?”

            “No.”

            Mastin burst through the flaps. “They’re on their way.”

            “Good. Let’s pray they don’t encounter anything dangerous,” Atty said.

            “And let’s hope LeGreen doesn’t get suspicious,” Yulen added. “If he is somehow planning to do something that involves us, we need to keep things looking as normal as possible. He already knows we’re aware something’s up, and he’ll be on his guard until we reach Rocky Gorge.”

            Mastin placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. “I agree, but there’s one other thing I think needs to be said.”

            “That being?”

            “What’s to stop him from attempting to pull another stunt before we get there?”

            Yulen looked over to where Atty sat, her wide eyes reflecting the dying embers from the fire. Mastin was right. What was to stop LeGreen from trying again?

            The thought was enough to make his gut wrench.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Royal Gorge

            The next day and a half became a montage of events and partial memories. A quilt stitched with bits and pieces of conversations and observances he barely managed to dredge up from his fevered brain. He was only able to make it through the hours due to several creative medicinal potions concocted by Thrasher, and Atty’s infusion of strength that she regularly fed into him. How she was able to do it was lost to him, although Yulen recalled her doing something similar when he was recovering from being tortured by the Bloods after they’d overtaken Bearinger. Without her, he would not have survived back then. Nor would he have been able to stay on a horse this time.

            LeGreen knew he was deathly ill, but didn’t question him about it. Worse, several of Yulen’s men appeared to come down with the same ailment, which forced the battle lord to admit the sickness wasn’t an allergy gone badly. If there was a bright spot to all this, it was that Atty hadn’t fallen victim to the malady. Neither had there been any further attempts on their lives, and that fact worried him.

            “I wonder if it’s because she’s Mutah?” Thrasher wondered.

            “Hmm? What?”

            “I’m wondering why Atty isn’t showing any symptoms. Could it be because she’s Mutah?”

            “Doesn’t matter. Do everything you must to make sure she stays well,” Yulen ordered with a voice that was barely audible. His throat was swollen and red, making eating and drinking excruciatingly painful.

            A little after midday, the troops reached a section of road that opened up to a glorious vista of mountains and tree-studded forests. In the distance, a narrow river flowed through the valley. Mastin had commented at some point during the trip that the winding road was ascending as they headed northwest. Knowing that Corado was supposed to be in a mountainous region, Yulen wasn’t surprised.

            “Ho! Stop and identify!” a voice called out. The sound echoed around them, making it impossible to tell where the lookout was located.

            “Don LeGreen, Battle Lord of Oka City. Here to attend the summit by invitation of Alton Highcliff.” LeGreen looked at Yulen to see if he would announce himself, but Mastin chose to respond on Yulen’s behalf.

            “Yulen D’Jacques, Battle Lord of Alta Novis. Also here to attend the summit by invitation of Alton Highcliff.”

            “Zane Batuset, Battle Lord of Foster City. I, too, received an invitation to attend the summit,” Batuset called out, following Mastin.

            There was a pause. But instead of being granted permission to continue forward, a small battalion of a dozen soldiers on horseback appeared from behind the trees. Yulen immediately recognized the man in front as Wolfe Matriman, the same man who had delivered the invitation to Alta Novis. Matriman ran his gaze over the troops, lingering briefly on Yulen, before giving a nod.

            “Follow us. Stay in single file and watch the trail.”

            “What about our wagons?” Batuset inquired.

            “The trail’s too steep. They have to stay here,” Matriman said.

            “I’m sorry, but our provisions and weapons are on those wagons,” Batuset argued, unmoving.

            “You won’t need any provisions. There will be enough food at the compound. As for your weapons, this is meant to be a peaceful summit. What you have at your side will be sufficient.” Without waiting for the battle lord to comment further, Matriman started down the slope. His men followed behind.

            Batuset clustered around Yulen, along with Atty and their seconds. “I don’t like this, Yulen. If we leave our wagons here, who’ll protect them? Who’s to say they’ll still be here when it’s time to return home?”

            “I have a better question,” Atty noted, keeping her eyes on LeGreen, who was waving his men to move ahead. “If there are other battle lords in attendance, where are
their
wagons? You can’t tell me they came all this way without any.”

            “Zane, is there a way you can get your men to load up their horses with the most important weapons and items, and have them follow on foot?” Yulen knew he wasn’t making much sense, but Batuset appeared to understand, as did Mastin.

            “I can get a dozen men to haul it down,” the second replied.

            “And we’ll hide the rest, just in case we need it going back,” Paxton added. “I’ll handle that detail.”

            “Damn shame we can’t split our troops,” Yulen muttered, almost to himself. Those within hearing distance agreed.

            “I’ll get started. Y’all go ahead to help cover up our actions,” Dardin Tabb suggested, and dropped down off his horse.

            Mastin and Paxton followed Tabb over to their wagons while Batuset signaled his men to stay behind him. Yulen waited for them to go over the edge before joining the line. Atty went next, with Renken behind her.

            As Matriman had mentioned, the trail was steep and slow-going. The horses weren’t used to the rocky terrain, and several times they stumbled. Luckily, no one fell. Their descent reminded Yulen of his search for Atty after she’d disappeared during a hunting expedition. He’d gone eastward that time, and had spent weeks travailing similar mountainous regions before finding her where the territory had been equally challenging.

            They were nearly halfway down the side of the cliff when Yulen spotted the compound. He turned around to point it out to Atty just as she exclaimed in awe. “Oh, my gosh! It’s solid rock!”

            Rocky Gorge was aptly named. Carved into the side of a mountain, they could see where holes had been dug into the limestone. Each entrance had a small patio, and ladders led from one level to another. A large plateau lay at the base of the cliff, and it was there Yulen spotted a number of people milling about. Past the plateau, and leading away from the mountainside, were three open areas shaped as concentric half-circles. All three were filled with brightly-colored tents.

            The closer he and the others approached the floor of the canyon, the more Yulen noticed about the compound, including the fact that there were at least a dozen more battle lords in attendance, if the banners being flown above the tents were evidence. He could faintly detect the familiar clash of steel as sword met sword. Immediately, he pulled up his horse and stood in his stirrups to try and get a better look ahead.

“What is it?” Atty asked.

“I hear sword fights.” He drew his own weapon, as did Batuset and their men.

“Who do you think is fighting?” Batuset called over to him.

“I can’t begin to guess,” Yulen admitted. “Let’s hope it’s not the attendees.”

“But we were told this was to be a peaceful summit,” Batuset repeated.

“Does that sound like peaceful arbitration?” Atty questioned.

Paas pulled up as close to them as she could. “Where is that music coming from?”

Yulen strained his ears, but they seemed as clogged as his face. “I don’t hear anything else. Atty?”

His wife nodded. “I hear it, too. And laughter. I think it’s coming from the compound.”

Batuset snorted. “That doesn’t make sense. Warfare with music and laughter?”

“Regardless, I say we stay armed. Come on. Let’s not get too far behind the others.” Yulen nudged his horse to continue, but kept his own sword at ready. To his rear, he knew Atty would have an arrow nocked and aimed as her horse followed behind.

After another hundred or so feet down the slope, Atty asked, “Yulen, why aren’t they arming themselves?”

He glanced at LeGreen’s men in front. At the way they appeared to be unconcerned about the increasingly loud and unmistakable sounds of fighting coming from the ravine. Yulen shook his head. Now he could make out the music Paas and Atty had heard, as well as the laughter. Happy laughter. Not the raucous kind of laughter he knew men made whenever they were in the midst of cruelty.

He was about to call out to the battle lord when the ground unexpectedly leveled out. A few yards further, and the caravan exited the tree line to find themselves at the edge of the gorge.

There were no words Yulen could find to describe the vastness of the compound. Its sheer size alone was intimidating. Rising up, he could barely see beyond the towering protective wall around the area containing a large number of inhabitants. Judging by the tents, he could tell those were temporary structures, probably erected solely for the duration of the summit. He figured Highcliff’s people must live within the dugout structures on the side of the mountain.

They were still some distance from the compound’s interior. To get to where the ponderous oaken gates were located, they needed to descend another fifty or more yards to the floor of the gorge. As he studied the high walls constructed of wood and rock, the gates began to swing open.

The sound of horses coming towards them placed him on further alert, until he saw the armed detail was not carrying their weapons, but had them sheathed. Plus, there were smiles on their faces. The man leading them greeted LeGreen and his party warmly.

“Welcome, battle lords! My name is Franjet. I am Alton Highcliff’s second here at Rocky Gorge. We are glad you could make it!”

“We hear a battle,” Batuset remarked loudly.

Franjet waved a hand in dismissal. “You can put your swords away. What you’re hearing are friendly sounds of battle. In fact, you are invited to participate in the faire!”

“Faire?” Yulen croaked.

Franjet eyed him. If he realized Yulen’s condition, he didn’t remark about it. Instead, his smile widened. “As a way to entertain our guests. Many battle lords bring their mates with them, and Highcliff felt the faire would be an excellent way for them to pass the time while the summit is in session. There’s dressmakers and jewelers with their wares for the ladies to browse. Clowns and magicians to entertain the children. And many of the soldiers are having a wonderful time staging mock battles to test each other’s prowess with a sword and staff. That’s what you’re hearing.” He gestured for them to follow. “Come! Highcliff is waiting to meet you.”

The man trotted off, along with his guards. LeGreen fell in behind, leaving Batuset and Yulen on their own.

“I don’t like him,” Atty flatly announced once she was certain they were out of earshot. “He’s
too
cordial.”

Yulen nodded, in total agreement.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Welcome

            Atty stared in shock at the festivities going on around them as they passed through the thirty-foot-high wooden gates and advanced on horseback toward the mountain. This wasn’t so much a summit conference as it was one giant party, complete with food carts and games of chance. There were also a multitude of vendors hawking their wares. The place was like Alta Novis when they celebrated the summer solstice. When families from other compounds, some as far away as Lo Breton, which was three days’ ride from New Bearinger, came to enjoy the festivities.