Every Battle Lord's Nightmare (15 page)

BOOK: Every Battle Lord's Nightmare
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            LeGreen made a rude sound. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific than that.”

            Yulen took a long swallow from his water bottle. The wetness helped cool the fire in his throat, albeit temporarily.

            “Each Mutah has a mark. Something that shows he’s not a Normal. For those with physical abnormalities, they’re often better at what they do than a Normal without that abnormality. My son is like that. He has Mutah eyes, and he can see farther and with greater clarity than anyone. And he’s just two years old. God knows what he’ll be able to do when he gets older.”

            He took another long pull on the bottle, coughing as some went down his windpipe. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he cleared his throat.

            “But there are Mutah whose specialness isn’t so evident. Like Atty. You can tell she’s one of them because of her hair, but what makes her unique isn’t visible. I’m also sure you know there are Mutah whose differences aren’t so obvious. They’re hidden underneath their clothes, or maybe not. But I’ve never met a Mutah who didn’t show some kind of special gift. They’re us, Don, but better. Not altogether better, but in bits and pieces.”

            LeGreen checked out Atty again. “I’ve heard tales about her prowess with a bow.”

            “And knife.” Yulen smiled. “And crossbow. Anything that requires accuracy, she’s good at. Hell, she’s superb at. Better than anyone I’ve ever witnessed in my life.”

            “What about a sword?”

            “A sword’s too heavy,” Atty remarked. “I need something with a little more finesse that doesn’t require brawn to wield. How about loaning me a rapier?”

            LeGreen stared ahead of them. After a moment, he pointed at something on the road. “There’s a red bird sitting on a branch—”

            The arrow zoomed past them without a whisper of sound. Lightning fast, it struck the bird, which squawked as it dropped into the bushes below. Yulen hid his smile as LeGreen’s eyes widened. The shot had to be eighty yards, easily.

            The battle lord of Oka City turned around in his saddle to address Paas. “You there.”

            “My name is Paas,” she calmly told him.

            “What’s your special ability?”

            Yulen loved the smirk that lifted the corners of the warrior woman’s mouth and watched as she placed a hand on the hilt of her own short sword. “Some of us aren’t resistant to rapiers,” she almost purred.

            “You!” LeGreen nodded toward Twoson. “What about you?”

            “Sorry. No weapons skills here. I’m more of a democratic sort of guy.”

            “What’s that supposed to mean?”

            “It means I can tell when someone’s bullshitting me, or when they’re sincere. I can also tell if someone is flat-out lying, or speaking the truth. Or hiding something,” the councilman told him.

            LeGreen snorted. “And that makes you superior to me?”

            “No,” Twoson smoothly retorted. “It makes my
judgment
superior to yours.”

            Yulen tensed and waited to see what LeGreen’s response would be. Strangely enough, the man only shook his head.

            “I wish I had someone like you on my team,” the battle lord commented. And that was all he had to say about the matter for the next several hours.

 

* * *

 

            They stopped around noon for a bite to eat and to rest the horses. After the battle lords went to check on their men, Atty took the opportunity to approach Thrasher. This was her first major trip away from the compound without MaGrath’s cynical company to keep her on her toes, and she missed the old grouch terribly. And even though Thrasher was nothing like the older physician in temperament, at least she trusted him enough to allow him into her small circle of close confidants.

            She found the man finishing his lunch where Paas had roasted several small lizards over their fire pit. The man looked up as she approached him and wiped his fingers on his thighs.

“I was about to come check to see how Yulen was doing,” he admitted, getting to his feet.

            “That’s why I’m here. Do you have any more of that elixir the Oka City physician prescribed?”

            Thrasher frowned. “Yes, but I gave him a dose this morning before we left. If I give him some more now, it could make him too drowsy to ride. Why do you ask? Is he complaining?”

            She shook her head. “Yulen never complains about how he feels. Not even when he’s in great pain. But his cold doesn’t seem to be getting better, and he’s coughing more. His voice is very rough. I can tell he’s struggling when he speaks. I’ve been watching him closely, and he’s already drained his water bag once, and normally he refills it every other day.”

            Concern clouded the physician’s face. “Can you tell if his fever’s returned? Is his face flushed?”

            Atty shrugged. “I haven’t gotten close enough to tell if it’s a fever or windburn. He’s been keeping some distance between us to prevent me from catching whatever he’s got. Can I, Fergus? Can I catch what he has? Or is it allergies like he claims it is?”

            “Hold on a moment.” The doctor went over to his horse and extracted the satchel containing his pharmaceuticals, looping the strap over his head. “Okay. Let’s go check him out.”

            “You didn’t answer my question,” she reminded him as they walked the side of the road to where she and Yulen had their campfire.

            Thrasher countered with his own questions. “Did he eat?”

            “Very little.”

            The man’s expression went grim. “Then it’s not allergies. Not now, anyway. It may have started out that way, but it’s gotten worse. And, yes, there’s the chance he could pass it along to you, my lady. As long as he’s sneezing and coughing, he’s most likely contagious.”

            A horrible thought came to her. She halted, her hand on his arm. “Fergus, we’ve been sleeping together. Is it possible…”

            The man stared hard into her face. “How do you feel? Tired? Aching?”

            “God, yes, but I was that way when I was carrying Mattox.” Another thought made her cringe. “If I catch what Yulen has, could it harm our daughter?”

            The man hesitated answering, which was an answer in itself. “Listen, Atty. If you start to feel any of the symptoms Yulen has, you come to me immediately. You hear me? I have some medicants I can give you, but to be honest, I’d be very reluctant because I don’t know how they would affect the baby, or if they would. And as for sleeping together, you may not want to hear this, but I strongly suggest you don’t. Have him move to a separate tent for the time being. Preferably alone. If he moves in with someone else, they could catch what he has.”

            “My tent is large. What if he sleeps on the opposite end?” The thought of not having his warmth next to her was hard enough. To imagine him completely out of sight, especially while traveling through unknown and potentially dangerous territory, was too frightening to contemplate.

            Her hopes sagged when Thrasher shook his head. “Sorry, Atty. His germs could spread over the pillows and blankets you share. In fact, they could already be all over them.” He made a disparaging sound. “I should have thought of that sooner.” He looked at her, his concern furrowing his brow. “You need to be the one to sleep elsewhere. Just until he’s no longer contagious. Those germs won’t be viable long. Not in this weather.”

            “I don’t like your suggestion,” she grimly told him.

            Thrasher gave her an apologetic smile. “I know. I’m sorry. But it’s long been known that Mutah physiology is different from Normals’. What could be a minor illness for them could become catastrophic for you, and vice versa. Do you really want to risk it?”

            A scream split the air, sending ribbons of fear down her spine. Before she realized her actions, Atty bolted for her campsite where her horse and her weapons were located.

 

Chapter Twenty-Two

Attack

 

 

            Atty reached the site where several men, her husband included, were gathered by the edge of the road, not far from where their temporary camp was located. Hurrying over to them, she listened as they discussed what had occurred.

            “—best leave it be,” LeGreen ordered the soldiers standing just inside the tree line.

            She tugged on Yulen’s sleeve. “What happened? Who screamed?”

            “We think it’s a soldier went in to relieve himself.”

            “And you’re not going in to find out if it is?”

            “He’s one of mine,” LeGreen interrupted. “Accidents happen. We need to be moving on.” The battle lord turned to leave. His callous disregard for his soldier rankled. Without commenting, she turned and pushed through the underbrush, ignoring Yulen’s yell for her to stop.

            Given she knew what she was doing was risky. Yet she couldn’t help but remember the many times in the past when others had been separated from the group, only to find death waiting for them. If it had been her, she would have prayed for someone to come looking for her.

            She moved quickly. Her growing belly was no small hindrance, but she could still maneuver silently through the dead brush and leaves. Behind her she could hear others coming in after her, or to lend their aid. She knew one of them would be her husband.

            Focusing on the foliage around her, she listened for any further sounds. Any whimpering or similar noises that would give her a clearer target.

            Something grunted. To her right. Not far.

            Arrow drawn, she advanced, mindful of those who were following her. Smartly, they didn’t call out to her. They knew that doing so might draw the attention of whatever danger was in the vicinity.

            Another grunt, and she zeroed in on it. Cautiously, she pushed aside a low-hanging branch with the tip of her bow. Fifteen feet away, the soldier lay on his back. He was covered in blood, but it was difficult to tell how injured he was. Or if he was still alive.

            Slowly, she took a deep breath. The cold made it nearly impossible to grasp any scent. The thing responsible for the attack could be anywhere nearby.

            Atty closed her eyes and drew on her hunting instincts. She felt the hairs on her head rise as her ears sharpened.

            The crackle of leaves was her only warning. Whipping around, she let the arrow fly. It caught the soldier in the hollow of his throat. At this close range, the shaft penetrated all the way to his spine. Vainly, he released his weapon and tried to grab the wood to pull it free as blood spurted outward in an arch. The hot fluid steamed in the air.

            Her body warned her of more danger a split-second before she dropped into a crouch. At the same time, she heard the solid sound of a sword penetrating flesh. Blood droplets sprayed her face as something inside her told her to duck.

            And then the world grew quiet.

            She waited, struggling to keep herself from being spotted, when she caught the whisper of a raspy breath.

            “Atty?”

            Yulen stood less than ten feet away, beside a fallen spruce. His sword still dripped from the encounter. Atty glanced down at the second soldier, his head nearly decapitated from his body.

            “There’s another one.” She pointed behind her. “He had a long knife.”

            He brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “As long as you’re safe.”

She started to tell him more when they were interrupted by the sound of many feet crashing through the underbrush. The first to reach them was Renken. He glanced down at the fallen soldier, then at Yulen’s gory blade.

“What happened?”

“That’s what I want to know,” Yulen said darkly. “Where’s LeGreen? Did he follow you in?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Renken admitted. He pointed his sword at the dead man. “He’s wearing LeGreen’s uniform.”

“So was the man I killed,” Atty spoke up. “And so was the man who was murdered to lure us here.”

“How do you know he was a lure?” Yulen asked.

She shrugged slightly. “I don’t. Not for certain.”

Mastin and Paxton arrived, with Batuset not far behind. They all took a long look at the downed soldier.

“Atty, are you—”

“I’m fine, Warren.”

“Cole, go fetch four men and bring them back here to retrieve the bodies.” Yulen turned to his wife. “How far are the others?”

“Just beyond those oak trees. There are two of them.”

Nodding, the battle lord amended his command. “Make that six men, Cole.”

Batuset frowned. “Are they all LeGreen’s men? Why not make him come and get them?”

“Oh, he will,” Yulen promised. “I’ll make certain he sends them back to his compound where they’ll receive full honors at their funeral pyres. In the meantime, Atty, when we return to the group, bring Twoson to me. Let him know I’m going to need his expertise when I grill LeGreen about this.”

“What do you need me to do?” Paxton asked.

“You and Garet stay here and watch the bodies until they’re recovered,” Yulen ordered. Bending over, he wiped his blade on the front of the dead soldier’s tunic but kept a firm grip on the hilt, rather than re-sheath the weapon. Placing his other hand at her back, he pushed her ahead of him in the direction of the road.

When they emerged, Atty got the distinct impression that a look of disappointment crossed LeGreen’s face. In the next instant, she saw a hardening come over the man as Yulen advanced toward the battle lord.

“Get down off your horse.” His order was terse.

LeGreen feigned a confused look. “What’s the problem, D’Jacques?”

“I need you to answer a few questions. Now.”

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