A Battle Lord’s Heart (12 page)

           
“Yeah, honey. They do.” He paused,
then said, “There’s stories about them, you know. Stories being spread all up
and down the roadway.”

           
She shivered slightly, making him
wonder if it was because of a chill or something else. Her next words surprised
him. “I gave him life. She gives him life. We have a lot more in common that I
ever realized.”

           
Drawing an arm gently about her
waist, he led her into the nursery. Yulen’s cradle sat prepared and waiting
next to the door, anticipating the time when it would be brought into the
bedroom to receive the next Battle Lord of Alta Novis.
 

           
Madigan ran her fingers over the
crib and the small changing table that had only arrived that day. Despite the
scrollwork on the wood, there seemed to be a conspicuous blank area on the
front of each drawer, and on the sides of the crib.

           
“Liam, what’s missing?”

           
“Missing?”

           
She pointed to the bald spot in the woodwork.
“Here. And on the front of the changing table. Was there supposed to be
something carved here?”

           
MaGrath stared intently at the
noticeably bare areas. “You’re right. It looks like something’s been left off.
Maybe Atty knows. Let’s go downstairs and finish our dumplings before they get
cold.”

           
He led her back to the staircase,
but not before she got one last good look at the design on the headboard.
 
Once they were downstairs, a tray of drinks
had been delivered from the main lodge. Tory handed them their mugs of hot
cider.

           
“The nursery is beautiful, Atty,”
Madigan commented. “Out of curiosity, is there something that’s going to be
added to the sides of the crib? Another design?”

           
Atty looked down at her lap where
the empty plate lay. Pushing her hair over her shoulder with one hand, she
said, “Yulen said something about the baby having his own symbol, but we’d have
to wait until he was born to come up with it.” She lifted her face. “They’re
fighting them now, as we speak.”

           
Her unexpected, almost nonchalant
comment, washed over them like a bucket of cold water. They sat frozen.
Stunned.

           
“How could you know that, Atty?”
Tory finally managed to whisper. “Y-You must be imagining it.”

           
Slowly, Atty shook her head. The
expression on her face was distant. Her eyes were glazed, as if she were
watching from a great distance. “They struck in the night, hoping the darkness
would provide enough cover,” she barely whispered.

           
“Atty...Atty...you’re mistaken. Your
mind is playing tricks on you.”
 
MaGrath
leaned over to give her a fatherly pat on the knees.

           
It was Fortune who broke in to ask
the unspoken question. “Is Yulen...”

           
Atty sat perfectly still, her eyes
remaining focused, yet unfocused, on some far away, unseeable sight. “He’s on
the battlements, directing the archers.” A small smile creased her lips. “My
archers. They’re doing me proud.”

           
Then, as if someone had cut the
string, she blinked and leaned back into the chair. One pale hand lifted to her
eyes, and she rubbed them with her knuckles. Tory bent over and kissed her
forehead. “Rest now,” she ordered the young woman.

           
Snorting softly, MaGrath refused to
believe what he’d heard. “She’s becoming delusional,” he admitted sadly.

           
“No.” Fortune shook his head
adamantly. “You keep forgetting we’re Mutah. Even we don’t understand how. Or
why. Or when. But tales of lovers so intimately connected that they can sense
each other over vast distances have been documented for years among our people.
Don’t scoff at what she shares with us, Dr. MaGrath. Don’t ever scoff at it.”

           
Tory squeezed the hand that remained
in her lap. “Can you still sense him?”

           
Atty slowly opened her eyes and
winced. “Sort of. But I keep getting...
 
I’m so damned uncomfortable.” She shifted in the chair, scooting back in
the seat.

           
“Does your back hurt? Here. Move
right up to the cushion, Atty. It should relieve some of the pressure.” She
tried to help Atty adjust to more comfortable position, but it didn’t seem to
be working.

           
“No, I don’t feel...it’s very
awkward...I can’t figure out... Oh, my God!” Her eyes flew open wide, and her
face went stark white.
 
Her hands flew
to her belly, fingers splayed over her gown.

           
“
What?
Oh, God, Atty, what
happened?” Tory was instantly alarmed, and began searching for whatever was
wrong. Equally frightened, MaGrath fell to his knees before the chair as
Fortune and Madigan leaned forward.

           
Rolling her eyes down to her
abdomen, Atty bit her trembling lower lip. One hand remained pressed to her
swollen stomach. “It...
moved!
” Wide eyes filled with tears as she repeated,
“He moved! Our son...h-he
kicked
me!”

           
She reached for Tory, who drew her
into her embrace as Atty continued to press her palm where the tiny bit of life
shifted within her.
 
MaGrath noticed
that Atty’s breathing was becoming erratic, and knew there was the chance she
might hyperventilate if she didn’t calm down.

           
“Watch your breathing, Atty,” he
cautioned gently. “Not so fast. Slow it down, bluebell. There you go. Deep
breaths now, not short, shallow ones.”

           
“He moved, Liam!”

           
“That’s great,” MaGrath chuckled,
giving her a big smile. “That’s wonderful!”

           
“No. You don’t understand,” she
reiterated. “He.
Moved.
There’s really a baby in here!” She looked to
Tory, who was laughing softly. “Is it supposed to be funny?”

           
“No,” Tory admitted, although she
was having a difficult time not to giggle. She was relieved and delighted and
worried all at the same time. “I think this is the best news I’ve heard all
week,” she smiled.

           
“Why?” Atty asked. The baby must have
made another movement, as she suddenly glanced downward at her stomach and
jumped slightly. “That one tickled.” An accusing stare at MaGrath gave the
physician pause.

           
“Why are you looking at
me?
”
he chuckled, throwing his hands up in the air.

           
“You never told me about
this
part! Neither did you!” she accused Tory with a glare.

           
“Okay,” Tory grinned. “Then let me
remedy that omission right here and now. Atty, you’re going to have to be
prepared to feel the baby move inside you. He’s going to kick, and stretch, and
poke, and as long as he does you’ll know you’re going to have a strong, healthy
baby when he finally arrives. Now are you satisfied? Does that make you feel
better? Atty?”
 
She gave her a little
shake, but Atty seemed mesmerized by what she was feeling both within herself,
and on the outside of her belly. Two sensations simultaneously coming from the
child she and Yulen had created. A child created when they had made love.

           
“It...stopped,” Atty whispered.

           
“He’ll do it again,” Madigan told
her. “There may be nights you won’t get much sleep because he’ll keep you up
with all the kicking. I know Yul did it to me.”

           
“It’s a shame Yulen isn’t here for
this,” MaGrath commented sadly. “He would have been ecstatic to feel his son’s
movements.”

           
“He knows,” came Atty’s barely
audible response.

           
The other four people stared at her
in silent surprise. “What was that?” Fortune whispered, urging her to repeat
what she’d said.

           
Atty smiled, a tremulous, almost
secretive smile. “Yul knows our son is moving inside me.”

           
“How?” Tory asked, already knowing
the answer, but wanting to hear it from Atty’s own lips.

           
“Because I just told him,” she
murmured, and laid her head on the woman’s shoulder.

Chapter
Nine

Breaking
Oaths

           
It was Fortune who carried the sleeping
Atty upstairs and laid her on the bed, covering her with the quilt before going
back downstairs.

           
“Do you really believe she could
talk to Yul?” Madigan whispered once the Mutah hunter had rejoined them
downstairs by the fireplace.

           
“Not talk,” Fortune corrected her.
“It’s not like that. From what we’ve been told, and from what we’ve seen, it’s
more like an understanding. I’ve already seen them correspond that way in the
past. Just looking at each other and knowing what the other was asking, or saying.
No reading thoughts or any nonsense like that. This latest, though, this has me
completely spooked.”

           
“Well, on that note, I believe we
need to say our goodbyes and let these good people retire to their own bed,”
MaGrath comment. He gave Tory’s shoulder a sincere squeeze. “I know that
keeping watch on her has been very tiring for you, but know that Maddy and I
appreciate you both being here to help.”

           
Smiling, Tory laid her hand over
his. “We fought for Atty to be returned here when she was recovering. We’ll
fight for her again. As often as she needs us. As often as Yulen needs us. I’m
just glad we’re able to help.” Her eyes lifted upward, and she added, “Do you
think she’ll be all right tonight?”

           
“More than likely,” MaGrath
commented, also glancing up. “This latest discovery seems to have given her
some peace of mind.” He snorted, grinning. “‘There’s really a baby in here!’”
he quoted. Both Tory and Madigan giggled softly at the memory.

           
The couples said their goodnights
before the doctor and his wife departed. Fortune closed and locked the door
behind them. Once he was certain the fire in the fireplace was adequately
screened, he turned down the other two lanterns in the living area and retired
to the back bedroom where Tory was waiting for him.

*
* * *

           
Although muffled, the scream was
high-pitched and filled with stark terror. Tory jerked awake, flying into a
sitting position in bed as her heart thudded sluggishly in her chest.

           
“Fortune!”

           
Something had awakened him as well.
Already his hunter’s instincts were primed to any danger. “What was it, Tory?”
he hissed in the darkness.

           
“I don’t know. It sounded—”

           
The scream came again, but this time
it took on a name.

           
“
Yullllllll!
”

           
“Oh, God! Atty!”

           
They scrambled out of bed and raced down
the hallway and up the curving stairway as another blood-curdling shriek of
pure horror reverberated against the log walls of the lodge. Suddenly the
scream abruptly stopped. They heard a loud thump, and the sound of retching.

           
Tory reached the landing first and
ran for the bed. It was empty. Stumbling over to the far side, she found Atty
hunched over on the floor, overcome with deep, dry, retching heaves. The young
woman was rambling incoherently as her stomach bunched repeatedly, trying to
throw up whatever it was that was upsetting it. A thin line of saliva ran from
her mouth to the floor, but otherwise there was nothing for her body to expel,
her last meal having long since digested.

           
Atty was clearly upset to the point
of being maniacal. Sobbing, she fought off Fortune’s hands, scrabbling
backwards across the rug, until her back hit the side of the bed. Only then did
she appear to calm down enough to where Tory could approach her.

           
Wordlessly, Fortune bolted back
downstairs and raced out of the lodge to fetch the physician. Once he was gone,
Tory tried to calm the distraught woman, but Atty started to whip her head from
side to side, her eyes squeezed tightly shut as if she were in great pain.
Every time she felt a hand touch her, she fought it, striking it hard and
painfully to keep it from holding her down. She whimpered, a high, keening
whine from inside her throat, but she uttered no more words as she continued to
retreat against the heavy bed frame.

           
Tory tried to talk to her in soft,
soothing tones, but her words didn’t appear to be making any difference. Atty
was lost somewhere in a place too deep within herself, lost where the worst of
her nightmares and fears had taken hold of her mind.

           
Presently the sound of feet pounding
up the stairwell echoed in the room, and MaGrath appeared around the side of
the bed. He had a leather satchel with him, which Tory recognized as his
medicine bag.

           
“Has she screamed again?” he asked.