One Battle Lord’s Fate (12 page)

He had halfway thought he would meander to the first rear wall of the compound. Perhaps climb to the upper catwalk and view the pockets of tents erected within the second ring. Instead, Yulen was mildly surprised to find he’d led Atty around the main lodge and over to outside entrance to the clinic.

“Are we calling it an early night?” she teased.

“Why don’t you gather up Mattox and retire? I want to give the new wall another look before joining you.”

“I could bring him with us.”

Yulen seriously considered her offer, but in the pale lantern light he could see dark circles under her eyes. She wasn’t completely over the wolfen attack, even with her unique healing abilities. As much as he would love to continue their stroll together, she needed more rest. The next few days would tax them both, draining their strength and stamina, as well as test their patience.

She grasped his arm, forcing him to look at her. “I know it won’t do any good to tell you not to worry, but you know I have to say it.”

“I know.”

“Despite any problems, some good will come of this gathering.”

“Let’s hope.”

She gave him an irritated look and lightly punched his arm. “And quit being such a hardass. I have to say that, too.”

Yulen laughed. “You’re right. You do, and you did.”

“By the way, have you sent out any proclamations to let the people know what’s about to take place?”

“Yeah. I also sent out a second declaration to let them know that if they see or hear of any instances occurring during this summit, especially between Normals and Mutah, to notify one of the soldiers immediately.”

He leaned down to kiss her. Her lips were sweet from the juice she’d had at supper. As much as he would have wanted to have a mug of the verbossa, he had to keep his wits about him. Plus, it wouldn’t do for any of the other Battle Lords to see him inebriated, despite the fact that this was his wedding anniversary.

Our wedding anniversary.

It had been weeks since they had reignited those fires deep within their bellies. From the way her mouth answered his, he could tell her heady juices were flowing. She was well enough for some gentle lovemaking as long as he didn’t irritate her back.

In his mind’s eye, he could see Atty lying across the sheets on her belly. Her satiny-soft skin would glow in the lantern light coming through the bedroom’s cut glass windows. Her dark blue hair would gleam, framing her face and shoulders in shadow. He would lift her buttocks toward him, and she would let him ride her like a prize mare. Atty loved that position more than she did missionary.

He could feel himself swelling, forming a tight knot in his breeches. Slipping a hand down inside her low-cut neckline, he gave her breast a gentle squeeze. The hard nipple scraped across his fingers. Atty gasped softly.

“You’d better not take too long at the outer wall,” she halfway threatened.

“On second thought, I could always inspect it in the morning.”

She laughed throatily. “I need to feed our son. By the time you return, there should be a warm bath waiting for you.”

If there was anything he loved more than making love to Atty on the bed, it was having her ride him, all wet and slippery, inside the immense tub in their bathroom.
And it won’t irritate the scratches healing on her back.

He dropped a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Later,” he promised, and strode quickly away. And when he finally managed to make it back to their lodge, she was waiting for him inside the tub, as promised.

Chapter Seventeen

Resistance

Atty stood at the far end of the open area. In front of her, several yards away, eleven long tables were arranged in a narrow U formation. Battle Lords from thirteen compounds from as far north as the Winnpegg province and as south as Algordo were in attendance. There were six more representatives from other compounds, sent by their Battle Lords to report back on the conference. They lined both sides of one row of tables. Along the other row of tables sat the abbreviated councils from eight Mutah compounds. Yulen stood at the head table with Cole Mastin to his right, Liam to his left. An extra empty seat at the head table would remain empty...at least until she chose to take her rightful place by her husband.

Even this far away from the gathering, she could feel the tension and uneasiness. The atmosphere pulsed like a thick, invisible fog. The Mutah watched the Normals with no small amount of distrust, which was understandable. While Yulen had proven himself to them, these other leaders had yet to show any kind of allegiance. And the recent skirmishes over the past couple of days, although expected, hadn’t torn down any of those barriers raised between the warring compounds.

At the same time, the Normals were keenly aware of the physical differences between themselves and the Mutah. They were also knowledgeable of the fact that the Mutah were unarmed. Although the Battle Lords and their soldiers retained their weapons, one of the strictly enforced rules of the meeting was that all blades would remain sheathed, or else be confiscated.

Sitting on the ground several feet away from the Battle Lords were their Seconds and whatever number of soldiers they had wanted to accompany them. The men remained in close enough proximity in the event they were needed, and were able to listen in to the conference, but were not allowed to comment directly.

Standing many yards away, and forming a circle around the attendees, Yulen’s men kept guard over the whole. Atty looked to her left where the closest guard to her was a mere fifteen yards away. She recognized the older man as Dreeth Freshon, and knew him being here was no coincidence. Freshon was one of the few men Yulen regularly chose to watch over her. Atty waited until the man glanced her way, and gave him a smile. He flashed one back, but went immediately back to his usual stoic appearance.

Mastin glanced back at her. He, as well as everyone else in attendance, knew she was back here, partially hidden by the tree’s fresh spring budd
ing. She was dressed in her usual attire¯tunic top over breeches, a pair of well-worn boots, and her hair braided instead of worn loose. She was either ready for a confrontation or combat, and she was fully armed. If any of the other Battle Lords were doub
tful of her ability to hit any one of them with one of her arrows from this distance, every Mutah knew she could and would if she saw any sign of dissidence turning deadly.

“I can’t go in and face them,” she’d whispered to her husband late last night. They were lying on the bed in a loose embrace, sated and still dripping wet from their romantic tussle in the tub. The sheets were turning cold from being saturated with water, but where they were lying, the linens were warmed by their body heat.

“Do they make you uneasy?” he asked. His normally blue-gray eyes looked black in the near dark. The only light coming into the bedroom was from the window’s reflection of the lanterns outside the lodge.

“Yes, I’m uneasy. I don’t know who to trust.”

“How about your own people? Anyone here you would think twice about?”

She moved closer against him and placed a soft kiss on his shoulder. “Regardless of our eccentricities, we Mutah are just as unpredictable. A friend could become an enemy as quickly as any Normal.”

Yulen reached behind him for the blanket he’d thrown to the foot of the bed, and brought it up over them to keep away the chills.

“I need you there at the conference.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be there, but on my terms.”

She caught the telltale eyebrow rise. She also noticed the grin lifting the sides of his mouth. Whenever he smiled, his normally angry-looking expression, caused by the raised scar running from the side of his right eye down to the corner of his mouth, softened.

“Would these terms have anything to do with a certain Ballock and bow?”

“A well-prepared woman never forgets her best weapons, be it her wit or her knife.”

“Or, in your case, both,” he teased, pulling her tighter against him for warmth. Or so she thought until she felt his thick length slide between her thighs. She started to roll onto her back when his large hands held her against him, and Yulen pulled her on top of him. She’d forgotten about her still-healing wounds.

With little effort, she brought herself down on his erection, a soft hiss of pleasure escaping her as he filled her. Yulen lifted his hips, working himself in and out of her tight, wet warmth. For a moment there was no sound other than their labored breathing.

Taking her shoulders, he angled her toward him. Atty reached down between her legs to where they were joined, and stroked her clit as their coupling grew more frantic. Before long, she felt him jerk. A groan rattled in his throat, and he lifted his knees to help bring her. She accepted his offer, and worked herself into a second orgasm, not as long as the first, but just as fulfilling.

He lowered her down across his belly, and Atty felt one of her nipples slip between his lips.

“Yul.”

He didn’t answer. He knew how sensitive her breasts were because of her feeding Mattox. But he loved to suckle, and the sensation of his mouth was totally different from that of their son.

Cupping his head between her arms, she buried her nose in his reddish-blond hair, kissing his crown as her husband gently nursed. He never took all of her milk, and she always had enough for their robust son. When he switched over to the other breast, he licked the hard bud, and she felt his dick move within her. Atty laughed.

“If we keep this up all night, you’ll have no strength to face your critics tomorrow.”

“I will always have the strength I need as long as you are with me,” he murmured against her skin. “You are my strength. You are my backbone and my sword arm. You are my life, Atrilan.” He suckled her other breast, unaware of her tears of happiness falling onto his hair.

The last Mutah delegation arrived, taking their seat along with the others of their kind. Words were passed between them and some of the other Mutah. Fingers pointed in her direction, and more than one head turned to search her out. Atty remained leaning against the tree, but her hands never left her bow or blade. The longbow was already nocked. All she would have to do was lift and fire.

The spring wind came from the south. Knowing this, she’d asked Yulen to have the tables set in the matter they were now. This way she could easily hear their conversation.

Yulen struck the heavy oak table with a large rock. Everyone silenced and looked to him in expectation.

“Thank you to all who are attending this conference. I am Yulen D’Jacques, and you are welcome as my guests here at Alta Novis. My Second is Cole Mastin. The gentleman to my left is Dr. Liam MaGrath.

“The men surrounding us are under orders to protect and defend, but they follow my orders only. Your men are allowed to protect you, but I will restate the terms of this meeting. All weapons will remained sheathed. If you have a problem, let’s settle it like gentlemen, and save the swords for our enemies.

“I thought the Mutah were our enemies.”

Atty narrowed her eyes at the man who spoke. She couldn’t see Yulen’s face, since his back was to her, but she could hear the controlled irritation in her husband’s voice.

“Beyt Meyers, of the compound Palomar, let’s get this misconception cleared up now. The Bloods are our enemies, not the Mutah.”

“They’re both mutated versions. What’s the difference?” He drummed his fingers on the table. “Let me begin by saying what many of us have privately conveyed. I’m here because I’m curious. I wanted to meet this Battle Lord who has been raised to such a lofty level of adoration because of his marriage to a Mutah, and because of the treaties he’s managed to bring between the two groups. But I’m also here because I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of those yearly cleaning sweeps. I’m tired of risking my life, especially now that I have a wife and son of my own. If there’s any truth to your claim that there is a better world out there, with more trade and one less enemy, I’m willing to listen.”

Yulen nodded. Atty could almost imagine the slight smile he gave the man.

“Meyers, a little more than a year ago, I still believed as all of you do. I thought the Mutah and Bloods were equal in ferocity. That complete annihilation of that species was our only recourse for survival. I was wrong, and it didn’t take me long to realize that. Stop and think about what has happened to the animals since the Great Collision. They have developed into three distinct forms of life. There are the Normals, those that didn’t change. There are the Mutah, like the crows, who changed little. And there are the Bloods, the creatures who changed so much, they’re nothing like their original species.”

“Like the ferrets,” another voice spoke up.

“Yes. Like the ferrets. Like the animals, humanity changed in a similar fashion.” Yulen swept an arm in the Mutahs’ direction. “Many Mutah look exactly like Normals. You all have seen such people.”

Several Battle Lords nodded in agreement.

“So what is your expectation?” a third voice asked. “What do you want us to do? Drop centuries of hate and embrace these abnormals as if they’re suddenly our best friends?” There was no mistaking the sneer embedded in the words.

“I recognize Forbin Dissman, of the compound Blackmear. To answer your question, yes. I do.”

“Why?”

“Because if you don’t, within a few years, and very likely within your lifetime, your compound will be burned to the ground.”

The Battle Lord jumped to his feet, his face red with indignation. Atty went on alert, but the man’s hands remained on the table. “Are you threatening us, D’Jacques?”

“No. I do not threaten. I’m simply stating the facts. Sit down, Dissman, and let me continue.” Yulen remained calm, but his voice had dropped slightly. It was a sign to Atty that he was more angry than irritated, but they had known Yulen’s hard sell was not going to be easy.

The Battle Lord dropped back into his seat.

Yulen took a deep breath. “Listen. Yes, I want there to be peace between Normals and Mutah, but I’ve also assembled you here to warn you of the impending danger. All of us, both of us, are being threatened by the Bloods. There are so many of them out there, there’s no way we can make an accurate guess as to their numbers, but from just what I’ve encountered, I’m sure there’s at least five hundred thousand living within trekking distance.”