A Battle Lord’s Heart (26 page)

           
“Well, you’re right about that,”
MaGrath admitted
        

           
A faint, muffled whimper came from
the pouch strapped over Atty’s shoulders. Wordlessly, she handed Yulen the
reins and reached inside the carrier, lowering the front of her gown so she
could feed their son. Yulen lifted a corner of the leather covering to peer
inside, earning a playful slap on the hand for his effort.

           
“What do you think you’re doing?”
she giggled.

           
“Getting jealous.”

           
MaGrath snorted with laughter.

           
Several minutes passed as Atty
nursed. Behind them the drone of the men talking was a familiar and strangely
comforting background sound.

           
MaGrath watched the couple
unobtrusively, watching their interplay, their attentiveness toward each other.
There was no mistaking the extent of their love. It was in every movement they
made. In every meeting of their eyes. The furtive touches with their hands and
their tone of voice when they spoke to each other said more than mere words
could describe.

           
His eyes traveled down to the
leather carrier, noting the fine toolwork on the wide straps. For the first
time he saw the embossed letters stamped across the middle of the carrier.

           
MATTOX

           
“Hey, I’ve got a question to ask
you. A little birdie told me about that impromptu fencing match you had out on
the practice field a while back. Yulen supposedly won some sort of bet that he
would get to name my grandson without any interference from you, Atty. Yet, I
distinctly remember you telling Yulen to name him Mattox.”

           
“So what’s the question?” Atty
nudged. She reached inside the carrier to switch the baby over to her other
breast. As the infant latched onto the other nipple, an expression of
contentment crossed her face, and she sighed. It was enough to make MaGrath
smile again.

           
“Whatever happened to the conditions
of the bet?”

           
“Well, some of your information is erroneous,”
Yulen told him. “Yes, I won the bet, but the condition was that I would get to
name him without Atty having any say-so whether she approved or disapproved of
the name.” He cast a sidelong look of amusement at the physician. “I never said
I wouldn’t take suggestions.”

           
MaGrath turned to Atty. “Why
‘Mattox’?”

           
She was long in responding. When she
did, her voice was low. Mournful. “When I was a little girl, I once knew a boy
named Mattox. He was so kind. He had a gentle soul. But he was diseased, and no
one was allowed to play with him. His own parents gave him up. I felt sorry for
him, so I’d creep out of the house and go over to his tent after dark, and we’d
sit and tell stories to each other.” She paused. Inside the carrier, her hand
caressed her son.

           
“Mohmee found out I was going over
there, and she forbid me to leave again. But I did anyway. He...he wasn’t like
what they said. I just knew it. He had no other friends.”

           
She suddenly bent over the pouch,
her face pinched in grief. Silent sobs shook her shoulder. Yulen reached over
to touch her shoulder. “What happened to him?” he asked gently.

           
“He...he was diseased. Eventually
they had to take him outside the compound and leave him there.” She broke down
again, leaving them to guess the boy’s eventual outcome.

           
“Sons of bitches,” MaGrath muttered
under his breath.

           
Slowly, Atty regained control of
herself, wiping her eyes and nose with the sleeve of her gown. “I cried for
days after they found what was left of his body. I swore I’d never forget him.
If no one else on this earth cared nothing for him, at least I would. At least
there would be one person who would keep his memory alive, one way or another.”
Impulsively, she lifted her son from the pouch and kissed the dark downy hair
on his head before laying him over her shoulder to burp him.

           
They traveled another couple of
miles in silence. Eventually MaGrath excused himself and returned to the middle
of the caravan. Yulen took the moment to check the shift.

           
“My love, I need to check-in with my
men before we break for noon meal.”

           
She nodded, watching as her husband
drew back on his horse. The big Palomino stallion protested the bit for a
second before wheeling around. The new mount was a gift to Yulen from West
Crestin, and the Battle Lord had his hands full breaking it in.

           
Left alone near the head of the
line, Atty continued to hold her son tucked under her chin, allowing the gentle
bobbing of the mare’s smooth gait to help her put him to sleep. She caught the
faint whiff of his warmth mixed with his unique scent, along with her milk. It
was enough to put her at ease as she allowed herself to drift back to that
moment when she first met her new son. And discovered his specialness.

*
* * *

           
The burning in her belly sent little
knives of pain up through her body whenever she tried to turn over or change
sleep positions. But lying on her back was a bitch. She had never been able to
get comfortable that way.

           
She gradually rolled onto her hip,
and tried to lift her knees in order to obtain a more fetal-like curl. It was
as if someone grabbed her skin at both hips and
pulled
outward.

           
“Ow! Damn it!”

           
Atty woke up to an early afternoon
sun streaming through the high windows to find herself in the clinic. And,
oddly, in the same bed Yulen used to lie in when she’d brought him to West
Crestin.

           
The room was empty. Quiet.

           
Instinctively, she felt for her
round belly. She wondered if the baby was being overly rambunctious, which was
what had hurt so much and woken her up.

           
Her stomach was flat; her womb was
empty.

           
Sheer, stark terror ripped through
her heart.

           
She struggled to sit up, but the
stitches in her lower abdomen dug in with thin, blackened fingers. Atty cried
out from the pain, but more from the loss of child she had carried, nurtured,
and come to love over the past few months.

           
“Where’s my baby?” she wailed out
loud, hoping someone would hear her and come running in to answer her question.
To quell her worst fear—that she had lost the son she’d promised Yulen.

           
Miraculously, she managed to swing
her legs over the side of the bed, just as a tiny cry came from beneath her
feet. She stopped, automatically pulling her legs back up in case an animal had
gotten trapped inside the clinic and was crying to be let out.

           
The thin wail came again, but as it
rose in intensity and volume, Atty felt a new, strange, blossoming sensation
occur in her body. Her breasts began to fill out, growing rounder and fuller as
they responded to the cry. She whimpered at this new sensation, at this
betrayal of her flesh. When she grasped the moon-shaped globes, her nipples
taut with expectation, they felt as hard as rocks. And they were rapidly
becoming more painful than the fire around her belly.

           
The clinic door squeaked. Before she
could comprehend the fact that someone had entered the outer office, Yulen was
with her, calling out to her.

           
“Atty? Atty, are you all right? We
heard you yelling.” He sat on the bed next to her and tried to draw her into
his embrace.

           
She was overwhelmed with these new
and utterly horrible feelings overtaking her body. There was pain when she had
no recollection of becoming injured. Worse, there was no longer any baby inside
her. Shaking uncontrollably, she tried to hug herself, but touching her
engorged breasts only made things worse. Dazed, she stared at the streaks of
whitish fluid on her arms where they’d brushed against her tender nipples. She
panicked.

           
“What’s happening to me, Yul? What’s
wrong with me? Oh, God, did I lose our baby? Where’s our baby?”

           
It was too much to try and take in
all at once. She broke down, bending over in his lap as she prayed he would
forgive her for their loss.

           
It was all her fault. It had always
been her fault, from the very beginning when she’d started eating those damn
tunsul leaves because she thought she didn’t want a child in the first place.
Now she was being punished for those thoughts and actions.

           
“Atrilan. My beautiful love. Hush!
Shhh. Look at me.”

           
She remained supplicated and shook
her head.

           
“Atrilan.” He was chuckling. The
sound was as unexpected as it was comforting. He lifted her face and placed the
tenderest kiss she’d ever felt on her lips. “Atrilan, we have a son. Don’t you
remember?”

           
Patched pieces of memories drifted
into her consciousness. At the moment, though, they refused to form any sort of
whole for her to see. She started to shake her head when the cry came again.
Once more her breasts seemed to reach toward the sound. The pressure grew to
the point where she clutched them, gasping from the pain.

           
Through her tears she watched her husband
slip over the side of the bed and bend down. Carefully he lifted a tiny bundle
up over the side, bringing it to her and placing it on the mattress next to her
knee.

           
It was a baby. A tiny, perfect
little baby. With the most beautiful little face. Even more beautiful than
little Valla. Were baby boys suppose to be this pretty?

           
She looked at her husband. She
noticed the way he was watching the minute bit of life lying between them.
There was love on his face. Not just love for her, but love for this child they
had created between them. It shone from his face with a light all its own.

           
Her breasts throbbed for relief.
Atty clutched herself, tears welling up in her eyes, when Yulen smiled and
lifted their son to her chest, actually pressing the miniature lips that looked
just like his father’s against one heated nipple. Her eyes widened as the baby
reacted almost instantaneously. His mouth attached itself to her swollen bud,
closed over it, and he started suckling. Pulling, tugging, almost frantic in his
attempt to draw her milk into his hungry body.

           
The pressure, the throbbing, eased.
The relief she felt was indescribable.

           
Together they watched as their son
continued to feed, snorting softly through his little nose every so often as he
was forced to take a breath. Without thinking about it, Atty lifted him away
from that breast and laid him against her other to help relieve it also. The
baby snuffled, searching for her, and almost attacked when she guided his mouth
to it.

           
“Oh, sweet heavens, you’re voracious!”
she giggled throatily.

           
“He’s probably starving,” Yulen
whispered, taking a strand of her hair that had fallen into her eyes and
tucking it behind her ear. “Feeling better now?”

           
She had to tear herself away from
the miraculous sight in her arms to look up into her husband’s face. “Did we do
this?”

           
“Yes, Atrilan. We did. You’re a
mother now. Does that still frighten you?”

           
No. Not anymore. She shook her head.
Not anymore. “What did you name him?” she asked.

           
Yulen chuckled. “You really don’t
remember, do you? His name is Mattox.”

           
“Mattox?” Her eyes widened in
disbelief.

           
“Yes, my Atrilan.”

           
He kissed her. It was a gift of pure
love, this kiss, pouring his soul and his love into her mouth above their son’s
body. When he sat back, they both looked down at their son.

           
And their son looked back at them.

           
Atty’s reaction was protective and
automatic. Tightly clutching him to her, she scooted back across the mattress
so fast, her back slammed into the wall at the head of the bed. Her breath was
coming in hard jerks as every nerve in her body went alive to defend the infant
in her arms.

           
A long minute passed as she stared
into Yulen’s eyes, waiting for his reaction. Waiting for his condemnation.
Waiting to see—

           
“Atrilan, it’s okay.” His voice was gentle.
He reached out toward her, fully trusting. “Let me hold him. I want to show you
something.”

           
Maybe it was because she knew beyond
any doubt that Yulen would never hurt his son that Atty released her hold on
the baby, pulling his off her nipple, and gave him over to his father.
Gathering him against his heart, Yulen gave her a quick grin. “First things
first.”