One Battle Lord’s Fate (8 page)

“That’s a first!” Yulen laughed. “Normally you’re chewing me out for spending too
much
attention to Atty, and not enough to my duties.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a first time for everything. I think Mattox is coming down with a case of colic. No, it’s nothing serious, so wipe that frown off your face. But if he insists on keeping you up tonight, Atty doesn’t need to be getting out of bed any more than she has to. Those scabs don’t need to be ripped open, or else she’ll be too sore for the festival.”

“Is there anything you can give him?”

“I don’t dare. I don’t know his metabolism. Don’t worry, Yulen. A lot of babies get it. It’s just something he’ll eventually outgrow. But in the meantime you’ll be having some restless nights until he does.”

Giving him a mock salute, Liam bid Yulen a good night and exited through the door leading directly from the main hall into his and Madigan's private chambers at the rear of the building. Yulen watched him go until the man was out of sight.

Groaning softly, he hurried to scan the supply lists and sign off on them, then gathered the rest of the papers and stuffed them into the pouch he kept everything in. He carried the pouch with him to the lodge where he tossed it onto a small table just inside the front door.

“Yulen?” came a voice from upstairs.

“You’ve been granted a reprieve, Mother. I came to relieve you.”

“Very funny,” the older woman said.

He glanced up to see her descending the circular stairs. “Is Atty still awake?”

“And thirsty,” a familiar voice called down to him. “Bring me some water, would you?”

Laying a hand on her son’s arm, Madigan grinned. She gestured for her son to follow her into the kitchen area. Yulen waited for her to speak first. “Atty could hear a flea fart,” she commented matter-of-factly. She got a snort of amusement in response. “I haven’t had a chance to talk with you.”

“I’ve been swamped.”

“I thought so,” she nodded. “You know the guests will start arriving in the next day or so. What are you going to tell her when they do?”

“I was going to tell her tonight that I’m planning a small get-together of compounds, both normal and Mutah, in the hopes of extending the treaties. Maybe allow for some of the Mutah compounds to begin trade agreements with other normal compounds.”

Madigan nodded. “Think the ruse will work?”

“It’s no ruse, Mother,” he said. “The détente is real. So is our renewal of our vows and the celebration. One will cover the other, and both will occur as planned.”

She looked surprised. “Aren’t you biting off more than you can chew?”

“I won’t know until it happens.”

“And where do you plan to encamp all these people?”

“In the outer courtyard.”

“Outer courtyard? What outer courtyard, Yul?” As soon as the words were past her lips, Madigan knew what he was talking about. “Oh! You mean in the newly cleared area?”

Yulen nodded. “Precisely. I’ve been thinking about not removing the inner wall.”

“You want to keep it up? Why? Wouldn’t that split the compound into two separate areas?”

“I’m going to pick Atty’s brain and see what she thinks, just like I’m picking yours. I’ve just about decided to move all the businesses into that outer courtyard, along with the vendors who come on Saturday for Market Day. The inner courtyard would continue to house the populace. But if we should be attacked again, the enemy would have to scale two sets of walls before reaching our women and children.” He gave her a steady look. Madigan digested this information with a slow nod of her head.

“It’s...different.”

“Not only that, Mother, but when we rebuild the businesses, I would like to incorporate the same design the builders did in Wallis.”

“Oh? What did they do?”

“They planned their streets in a deliberate maze pattern. Like a labyrinth. Their buildings were flat-roofed, with a series of steps and ladders leading to the roofs. The reason was to put their best archers on the roof so they could decimate any invaders wandering around between the buildings. If we had that advantage, it could make us almost invincible.”

Madigan paled slightly. “That’s what almost happened that day you first overran Wallis, wasn’t it? The day you found Atty.”

“It would have worked, too,” he admitted. “Except Atty was by herself. There weren’t any others to take us down. If there had, our future would have turned out completely different.” Taking a deep breath to clear his head, Yulen took a mug off a shelf and filled it with water from a pitcher. “With Atty’s archers taking the roofs, they could do untold damage to any invading army before my men even got the chance to face the survivors.”

“All right. I trust your judgment. Let me know how I can help.”

“You’re doing plenty,” he assured her and gave her a buss on the cheek. “Now, if you don’t mind, I want to go upstairs and see what my wife thinks about my decision.”

* * *

Madigan followed him as far as the stairs. As he ascended the steps, she let herself out of the lodge and went back to the clinic where she knew Liam would be winding things down.

What the Battle Lord planned was a bold and daring move. But, like she had told him, she trusted his instincts and his judgment. Alta Novis was growing at a daily rate, and it already surpassed any compound she had ever been to. What was considered the norm in the past would no longer apply here.

It would very interesting to see how far and how large the D’Jacques Dynasty would become.

Now, and in the future.

Chapter Twelve

Overview

Madigan looked up from the chair where she sat knitting, and stared in surprise as Atty slowly making her way down the spiral staircase. The fact that she was wearing her usual pants and tunic told her mother-in-law that she wasn’t prepared to go back to bed.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m going stir crazy. I need some air. Watch after Mattox, would you?”

Madigan was waiting at the bottom by the time Atty stepped off the last step. She could feel the woman’s eyes inspecting her, studying and judging.

“You need to be upstairs in bed.”

“I’m tired of being bedridden. I need to get out and get some exercise.” To hold off any more of the woman’s protests, Atty placed a hand on her shoulder and met her glare eye-to-eye. “There are hundreds of soldiers out there. Every one of them will be watching me the same way you’re looking at me now. Trust me, Madigan. If I start to feel weak, they’ll see to it I’m brought back immediately.” Smiling slightly, she added, “Promise.”

The older woman sighed loudly and nodded. “Very well. I’ll take Mattox over to the clinic.”

“Thanks.” Atty gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, then turned and made her way to the front door. Despite the ever-present pain in her back that reminded her she still had a way to go before she was completely healthy, the rest of her felt eager to get back outside where she really belonged.

As she’d expected, the hustle and bustle was more pronounced once she stepped over the threshold. A sense of dejá vù swept over her, and she was reminded of the first time she’d exited the safety of the main lodge to visit the market. Back when she was a newcomer to Alta Novis. A new and unwanted visitor. That had been a little over a year ago. At the memory, she smiled to herself.

But today wasn’t Saturday. Plus, the compound was bigger, and growing at a noticeable rate. Also, the nearly frenzied activity surrounding her had nothing to do with that growth, and everything to do with the audacious plan she and Yulen had been discussing these past months.

“Battle Lady about!”

The call came from somewhere behind her. Most likely from the sentry tower nearby. But it caught the attention of several people who paused long enough to give her a nod of acknowledgement before continuing on with what they were doing. Atty decided to check out the new wall.

As far as she could tell, the majority of the activity was taking place on the other side of what used to be the old boundary wall. She briefly debated whether to climb up one of the ladders to the catwalk, or to go through a security gate and see for herself. Another twinge of pain reminded her she wasn’t one hundred percent yet. If she remained on ground level, there was a good chance she could be jostled accidentally, maybe even ripping open the stitches in her back. Her decision was easy.

Slowly, she climbed the narrow wooden ladder up to the parapet that ringed the upper section of the wall. A guard waited at the top, keeping the ladder steady. She waved off his hand to assist her, and stepped out on the four-foot-wide catwalk.

“Ohhh, my.” She stared in wide-eyed surprise at what was happening on the other side. There had to be more than twenty tents of all sizes and colors dotting the field. People were hanging ribbons and lanterns between the poles. More people were darting between the tents, Mutah and humans alike. The smell of cooking food drifted up to her, reminding her that midday meal wasn’t too far away.

From her vantage point, Atty could spot six distinct banners from other compounds and Battle Lords. To the far right she spotted West Crestin’s flag, and she smiled. Right behind it was the familiar green flag of Foster City. At the sight of it, she made a note to seek out their old friend, Zane Batuset.

“What was your first impression?” a deep voice asked behind her. Warm hands circled her waist as he embraced her from behind.

“How many more can this area hold?”

Yulen rested a hand over hers where she was holding onto one of the poles for support. “We invited twenty-seven compounds altogether. Twenty-four responded. So far eighteen have shown up.”

“Eighteen? How many of them are Mutah?”

“Six, but there are at least five compounds that might not arrive before the summit begins day after tomorrow.”

“
If
they decide to attend.”

He chuckled, agreeing with her.

“Why not hold off until they all arrive?”

“Because I’m not sure they will arrive. Their response was undecided.” He gave a nod in the direction of the tents. “At least the ones that are here are the ones I most needed to attend.”

They watched the frenetic activity for several minutes. Atty leaned against her husband, letting him support her as she felt a weariness slowly creep up on her. He was careful not to touch her back. Instead, he threaded his fingers through her loose hair. Playing with it, along with the spring breeze. His warmth and the gentle rhythm of his breathing soothed her.

“Atty.”

She opened her eyes, unaware that she had started to fall asleep on his chest.

“You need to rest.”

“All right, but answer me this.”

“What?”

They hadn’t moved from where they stood. Moments like this were rare, and in the past few days they had seen little of each other, even after dark. By the time Yulen was able to catch a few hours of sleep, she was already in medicated unconsciousness.

“All this activity. There’s more going on than just a meeting of all the Battle Lords and council of elders, isn’t there?”

For a moment, she would swear he tensed up on her. When he finally answered, it explained why.

“There’s plans for a party. A celebration. Several Battle Lords have decided that this is a momentous occasion, and want to make it a week-long event.”

“So, instead of three days, we’re looking at a week or more?”

“We’re making arrangements,” he assured her, kissing her on top of the head.

“How are we going to feed everyone?”

“That’s already been discussed. Every compound is sending out its best hunters to help gather.”

She motioned toward the distant courtyard. “Will the new area hold everyone?”

“If we need to, we can hold two or three encampments inside the main gates, and perhaps another couple beyond the shops. Don’t worry, Atty. I’ve spoken with every Battle Lord upon arrival and explained the circumstances. They’re as anxious as I am to try and come to some sort of peaceful agreement between the Normals and Mutah, as well as establish trade relations. Yes, there are some hold-outs, and several who feel that what we’re attempting to do is pointless. But the simple fact that they’re here to at least listen to what we propose is a promising step. Now.”

The comforting hand was removed. Atty looked up to see him smiling at her, but there was a serious glint in his blue-gray eyes.

“Are you ready to go back to bed? Or am I going to have to hoist you over my shoulder and carry you there?”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me, woman.”

“Awright! Awright! Uncle!” She threw up her hands in mock surrender and proceeded down the ladder ahead of him.

They were met at the bottom by one of the sub-lieutenants. He waited silently until Yulen addressed him.

“Prescott?”

“The Battle Lord of Murgiston sent me. He needs to speak with you immediately.”

“Can it wait?”

The young man shuffled from one foot to the other, clearly agitated. “I was ordered not to return without you.”

Atty glanced at her husband. “Where’s Murgiston?”

“North and east. I’ve only met the man once, and that was when he and his party arrived, but...” Yulen paused, giving her a look she immediately understood. What he wanted to tell her had to be told in private, and not with another nearby who could possibly relay what he’d heard to sensitive ears. In addition, the fact that what else he had to tell her had to be kept confidential told her the information was not favorable.

“I understand,” she assured him.

He answered with a smile, then turned to the messenger. “Take me to him.”

A hand touched his arm. “I’m coming with you.”

“Atty.” His tone made it clear he didn’t approve.

“I’m getting cabin fever, being stuck inside all day.”

“Atty, if something should happen, you’re not well enough to defend yourself.”

“Think so?” She gave him her best sassy grin as she patted her thigh to let him know her Ballock was securely fastened. “Just this once, and then I’ll go back to bed,” she promised, crossing her heart with a finger.

Knowing she didn’t give her word lightly, Yulen nodded and waved a hand at the soldier to lead on. He had learned early in their marriage that sometimes it was simply easier to relent than to fight some battles.

Chapter Thirteen

Attacks

The Battle Lord was in deep discussion inside his tent with three other men when Yulen and Atty entered. Yulen dismissed the soldier who had led them there. There was no need to be announced. Every Battle Lord camped in or near the compound knew who their host was.

The middle-aged man still sported the body of a man half his age, but the brown hair sprouted wisps of gray. Like many of the Battle Lords converging on Alta Novis, Tabert continued to lead his soldiers in making yearly cleaning sweeps around his compound. With luck, that might cease once the talks were over.

As Yulen expected, the man’s attention went immediately to Atty’s deep blue hair, and his eyebrows rose in response, but the Battle Lord continued giving orders regarding the placement of his tents. Once he dismissed his subordinates, the man paused and gave his two visitors a thorough look before locking onto Yulen.

“Yulen D’Jacques?”

Yulen nodded. “Colfin Tabert?”

The man gave a grin, and immediately Yulen sensed a reaction in his wife. Trusting her instincts above his own, he decided to keep the man at arm’s length.

Tabert gestured toward several fat pillows lying on a carpet further inside the tent. “Please. A moment of your time.”

Yulen stood his ground. “Unfortunately, my time is very short. I was told you needed to see me?” Already, it irked him that the Battle Lord had deliberately dismissed Atty’s presence. Unfortunately, he couldn’t let Tabert know he was aware of the slight. Diplomacy had to be the rule, as hard as it would be to follow at times. Lifting his chin, he tried to give the appearance of a man being run ragged without being rude to his guests.

“I’ll be up front with my concerns,” Tabert announced. “We knew coming in that the Mutah compounds might tax our patience. I’ve already heard of some scuffles between them and a couple of guests. Can I have your word that my people will be safe?”

Yulen made a mental note to check on Tabert’s accusations. Although he seriously doubted anything had occurred that he hadn’t been notified about, he knew he had to check all possibilities first.

“Thank you for making me aware of this. But, yes, we are doing all we can to keep confrontations at a minimum. In the future, if you are aware of something happening, I would appreciate it if you sent me a message.”

“I will. And thank you for coming by. I’ve been wanting to say hello, and to thank you for the invitation.” Again, the man’s eyes slid over to Atty. During the brief exchange, he had never once addressed her, or even acknowledged her. Yulen looked down to see that patient, expressionless mask on her face that he knew well. Only, to him, it wasn’t expressionless. The fact that she was trying to be no more than a blue-haired shadow at his side told him volumes.

“Tabert, this is my wife, Atrilan D’Jacques.”

The Battle Lord briefly bowed his head. “Madam.” In the next instant, he turned his back on the couple, as if dismissing them. The act stung Yulen. Tabert had no authority to dismiss the Battle Lord of Alta Novis. Worse, it was extremely rude to dismiss one’s host.

Taking a step back, Yulen tugged on Atty’s hand to let her know it was time they left. The mask she’d been wearing dropped, and she almost gasped with indignation. Yulen held a finger to his lips for momentary silence and led her away. Once they were out of earshot, she turned to him, her anger bringing color to her pale cheeks.

“What audacity! How dare he treat you that way.”

“Unfortunately, I have no other recourse than to let it lie.”

“Why? You should have said something!”

Taking her by the elbow, he silently urged her to keep walking. “Let’s continue this in the privacy of our home. We don’t need people overhearing us.” He spotted one of his soldiers and motioned him over. The young man ran up to them, giving Atty a quick nod, then focusing on the Battle Lord.

“There are rumors of dissatisfaction and possible altercations with the Mutah. Go find Mastin and tell him I want to know about them. Have him meet me at my lodge.”

The soldier repeated the pertinent information before heading off at a trot. When Yulen looked down at her, the mask had fallen back into place, but he sensed her frustration all the way back to their lodge. Once they were inside, he closed the door.

“Atty, having these men here is unprecedented. All their lives they have fought the Bloods, believing like I had that all Mutah were the same. In many cases, they have yet to come to terms with making peace with your kind. You know as well as I do how difficult it will be to wipe out centuries of hate, much less try to build a foundation of trust. Yes, Tabert was rude and condescending, but a lot of Battle Lords are, and will continue to be. You know that as well as I do. He doesn’t know how to be civil to your kind, but the slight was aimed at me, not you.”