One Battle Lord’s Fate (13 page)

Several Battle Lords and their entourages appeared shocked by Yulen’s announcement. Atty noticed that the Mutah didn’t appear phased by the count. After all, they had been fighting the Bloods longer than the Normals.

Yulen continued. “The Mutah are better than us. No. Don’t interrupt. Let me have my say first. I’ve seen it. My men have seen it. The Mutah are better because of their differences. Some are stronger, some are smarter, some are better adept for certain trades.” He gestured in Atty’s direction. “There is no Normal who will ever match my wife’s ability with the bow. Every fable, every tall tale you’ve heard about what she has done or can do is the truth.”

“Bullshit.”

In an icy voice, Yulen said, “I recognize Andromin Anastopolis, of the compound New Greece. Are you doubting my claim?”

A thin man with a heavy beard said with undisguised sarcasm, “We don’t doubt anything you say about your...wife.” The last word dripped disdain. Atty felt a warning flag rise.

“Plant your knife in the table,” Yulen ordered.

Anastopolis lifted an eyebrow. “Oh? Is this to be the demonstration?”

“You called my claim bullshit. I’m proving you wrong.”

Atty raised her bow in preparation. As he was told, the man slammed a slender dagger point down into the table.

“Now, hold up one of those rings on your fingers.”

The Battle Lord pulled off one ring bearing an immense ruby the size of a man’s eyeball. He held it up, pinched between his forefinger and thumb. “Like this?”

“No. Place your fingers on the sides of the ring. Elbow on the table to keep it steady. Yes, like that. Atty? Off the dagger, snag the ring.”

She aimed, waiting for the wind to stop gusting. A heartbeat later, she let the arrow fly. The point grazed the dagger’s blade, which deflected it with a sharp dinging sound. Everyone gasped as the arrow darted through the ring where the feather fletchings jerked the jewelry from the man’s grasp. Arrow and ring planted themselves into the ground yards away.

“Why don’t you give me something hard to do?” she yelled with a smile.

Yulen looked down at the Battle Lord. “Would you care to give her an assignment, if this isn’t sufficient?”

Anastopolis ordered one of his men to retrieve the ring. “No. That was enough. Carry on,” he answered.

A glance around the table showed more than a few expressions of admiration. Taking advantage of the moment, he continued.

“As I was saying, the Mutah have abilities far greater than us. That means the Bloods do, too. And the greatest ability they both have is they are able to heal from near-catastrophic wounds at record speed. I’m talking wounds that would either kill a Normal, or severely sideline him. I’ve even heard that some Bloods have been known to re-grow limbs, although I haven’t personally witnessed it.”

A hand went into the air on the Mutah side. “I recognize Teer Matterby, from the Mutah compound West Crestin.”

A man with dark green, grassy looking splotches covering his skin got to his feet. But instead of addressing Yulen, he turned to the row of tables where the Normals were sitting. “What D’Jacques is saying is this. Normals and Mutah need to co-exist in peace. And together we need to protect each other against the Bloods. In short, it’s us against them.”

“I don’t see you with any soldiers,” Meyers pointed out. “Are you even carrying any weapons?”

“They don’t need to,” Yulen replied. “They have their hunters castes.”

“Hunters castes?”

“Those who provide the compound with fresh meat, as well as protection.” He nodded to Fortune, who was seated with the representatives from Wallis. “Atty’s a member of the caste. Fortune Kalich, also from Atty’s home compound of Wallis, is in the caste. Unlike Atty, who specializes on the bow, Fortune uses a sword and daggers, but every man is an expert hunter.”

Placing his hands on the table, Yulen leaned forward. “Their methods are different from ours. Where we use tactical strategies to rule our armies, the Mutah attack individually, dividing the armies into smaller chunks so they can be more easily defeated. The Bloods, however, use a wholly unauthorized approach.”

“They attack all at once. One single, screaming, fucking huge entity,” a new voice commented.

“I recognize Stark Evermil, of the compound Coronado. Your description is very descriptive and accurate. Is there anything else you’d like to add?”

“Yeah.” Evermil was young. Probably the youngest Battle Lord attending the conference. Despite his age, there was a visible hardness to the man, who could be no more than twenty or twenty-one. “You got me to thinking. We’ve been attacked twice in the last year by these Bloods. Motherfucking ugly creatures.” He gestured toward the Mutah. “You, Mutah, even though you have a few irregularities, you could almost pass as Normal. But those Bloods, they’re so twisted and deformed, there’s no way one of them could ever be mistaken as Mutah. I believe you, D’Jacques. I don’t recall ever seeing someone who looked mostly Normal like a Mutah among those hordes.”

A couple of other Battle Lords made confirming comments. It was Dissman who said what remained unspoken. “Why isn’t Zane Batuset here? I thought he was your strongest supporter.”

Yulen straightened. Atty could sense the tension going through him. He couldn’t lie to the men. Neither could he hide the truth from them.

“He got word an army of Bloods may be about to descend upon his compound. He left to strengthen his security. He’ll be back in a couple of days.”

“Is there any danger to us here?” Meyers asked. “Shouldn’t we also be thinking about returning to our compounds?”

“You’re safer here,” Yulen promised. “Besides, if you tried to leave, and the Bloods were actually planning to attack, what do you think your chances would be of surviving the trip back?”

The question hung unanswered like a black cloud over their heads as the delegates mulled over the problem.

“All right. Let me see if I have this straight.” Dissman sat up in his chair and leaned over the table. Planting his elbows on the wood, he clasped his hands in front of his face. “You want us to accept the Mutah as brothers. You want us to join with them in arms against these Bloods. Is that all? Is that the sum total of what you brought us here for? To watch you marry your Mutah woman again, and listen to your plea for us to join in a treaty with people we’ve believed were our enemies for decades?”

There was no hesitation in Yulen’s response. “That’s it. The sum total.”

The two men locked gazes for what seemed several minutes. Finally a wide grin split the Battle Lord’s face. “Why should we?” he asked in a lazy drawl. He sat back in his chair as they all waited for the answer.

Atty almost laughed. Of all the work Yulen had done to prepare for this meeting, this was the primary question he had expected, and he was prepared in ways the Battle Lords would never believe until they saw it with their own eyes. Smiling, she left the shelter of the trees and walked over to the empty seat by her husband’s side as Yulen gestured to someone in the distance.

“Gentlemen, I would like to introduce to you the Mutah compounds of Wallis, West Crestin, Good Choice, Barkertonville, Fullmont, Carter, Blind Side, and Plovington.”

By the time she reached his side and drew an arm around his waist, the first of the gift-bearing caravans were arriving.

Chapter Eighteen

Relation

Of all the knowledge his father had imparted to him before his death, Yulen remembered one piece of advice the most. “Every Battle Lord is committed to keeping and protecting his compound. But I’ve never met a man who didn’t want the best for himself. If there’s something new and attractive, he will claim the first one.” Rory D’Jacques waggled a finger under his son’s nose. “We call it ‘entitlement’. We put our lives on the line every day to serve our people, and we feel we’re owed the odd bauble that shows up. Never forget that, Yul. If you can’t get a Battle Lord to see your way, a little bribery never hurts.”

With help, Yulen had chosen specific gifts each Mutah compound could offer the Battle Lords. Gifts which were uncommon among the Normal compounds. The first of these gifts were personalized hand-beaded leather weapons belts from West Crestin. Each individualized belt bore the Battle Lord’s name and the colors of his pennants. As Yulen had expected, the men were impressed by the intricate detail. Subconsciously, his free hand went down to his own belt he had been given the past winter.

Along with the belts were vests, saddles, and other leather goods. The workmanship on every item was impeccable. Rather than ask each Mutah compound to freely donate their items, he had bartered with them, giving fair market value in trade.

Following West Crestin was Wallis, which brought a keg of lemon verbossa for each Battle Lord. “A word of warning, gentlemen. One mug of the stuff will land you flat on your ass, but the kick is worth it,” Yulen warned with a smile.

As each Mutah compound presented their works and worth to the Battle Lords, he further pressed the issue. “You asked why should you join with the Mutah? This is why. Think of the commerce! Think of the trade!”

“I think you’ve succeeded in what you intended to do.” Atty smiled up to him.

“Well, it was you who gave me the idea in the first place.”

“Me?”

“Yes. When you gave me this belt last winter. It was the first thing I thought about.”

In the distance, he spotted a soldier was running toward him. Yulen and Atty stepped away from the head table as the man arrived and quickly saluted.

“Jueltice?”

“A new Battle Lord has arrived. He apologizes for his tardiness.”

“At least he arrived before the conference was over,” Yulen said. “Have him and his men escorted into the outer courtyard to set up their tents, then bring him here. What’s his name?”

“D’Jacques, Sir.”

Yulen and Atty froze. “What?”

“He says his name is Rafe D’Jacques, from the compound of Alta Seran. He says he’s your half-brother.”

Yulen felt the blood drain from his face. He had no idea he had a sibling, much less a half-brother. He remembered sending an invitation to Alta Seran, but the compound was simply another name on his list. He’d had no idea who was in charge.

“On second thought, show his men where to set up their tents, but bring D’Jacques to my lodge. Also, notify my mother, and ask her to join us.”

“Trouble?” MaGrath appeared at Yulen’s side. “What about your mother?”

“A new Battle Lord has arrived,” Yulen informed him. “He says his name is Rafe D’Jacques, and he claims to be my half-brother. Liam, why didn’t you tell me I had a sibling?”

“I didn’t know.”

“What about Mother?”

“I can’t speak for her, but I can’t imagine her keeping something like that a secret all these years. A half-brother? Older or younger?”

“Let’s go find out.” Yulen let go of his wife and turned to face the men being inundated with gifts. “Gentlemen! I hate to leave you on such short notice, but I need to greet a new guest who’s just arrived. I suggest that you spend this time getting to know each other, and perhaps work out a few trading and marketing deals that will benefit you both. In the meantime, I’m having trays brought in of more Mutah food I think you’ll enjoy, since many of you commented how much you liked last night’s dinner. I’ll return shortly.”

Taking his wife’s hand, Yulen and Atty jogged toward the inner courtyard. His mind remained in a state of confusion. His top priority had been the conference. He’d let Berta oversee the details for the wedding, and she had done an excellent job, not to mention having to prepare three times the meals for their guests.
Note to self, be sure to thank her profusely for all the work she’s put in.
However, with this new development, suddenly his concern over the conference took a temporary hiatus.

A brother. I have a brother! A half-brother. Rafe D’Jacques. A D’Jacques.

He came to an abrupt stop a few yards away from the lodge as another realization occurred.

Dad and another woman? My father created a child with another woman? My father was unfaithful? How will Mother react?

Alta Seran. He remembered being slightly amused by the name, since Alta Novis was a name created out of thin air by his ancestor, back in the earliest days of survival. Alta Novis referred to no real location on a planet forever changed. It was not the name of its finder. It was two words snatched from his imagination, which his great, great, etcetera grandfather declared fitting. Which was why finding a compound with a similar name had surprised him, but he hadn’t bothered to investigate further. There had been more pressing matters that needed his attention.

Alta Seran. That explained the name, then. But why had it taken so long for Yulen to find out?

“Atty, find out exactly where Alta Seran is. I need to see a map.”

She nodded, gave his hand a quick kiss, and hurried away. He watched her leaving for a moment, then passed through the gate to enter the inner courtyard.