The Battle Lord's Lady (14 page)

“You’re damn lucky,” MaGrath breathed softly.
“Too damn lucky. If we hadn’t had her with us, there’s no telling
what kind of damage that thing could have done.”

“I asked, how is
she
?” Yulen repeated. His words stung.

“Shaken, but otherwise okay.” He sniffed.
“The stench of that thing still surrounds the both of you.”

Yulen agreed. Once they reached Foster City,
the first thing he wanted to do was take a hot bath and get a clean
set of clothing. He glanced over to where Atty was leaning heavily
against her horse. She was drained, he could tell. Yet she deserved
as much when they arrived there, if not more. A lot more.

His lips could still feel the pressure of
hers. His hands tingled with the memory of her skin. The ache he
had felt between his legs echoed with the ghost of passion.

When they reached Foster City, he swore to
himself he would finally get to see the glory of her deep blue
hair.

Quietly he strode over to where she stood
with her eyes closed, her face pressed to the leather, her hands
clutching the edges of the saddle. As he placed his hands around
her slender waist, she started, turning to see who was behind her.
Their eyes locked for a moment, then she lowered her face and
placed one boot into the stirrup. Yulen helped her up into the
saddle, then grabbed the reins before stepping away. Atty looked
down at him, waiting.

“Stay beside me,” he whispered so only she
could hear. Slowly she nodded.

Stay beside me.
Yulen hoped she understood what he really meant. That it
wasn’t an order, but a request. A plea. Stay beside me, riding
together, at the head of the line...

And then...stay beside me long after we’ve
reached our destination.

Stay beside me.

They would reach Foster City tomorrow. Until
then...

Chapter Fifteen

Admission

They pitched camp soon after dusk as it was
never safe to move at night. Yulen checked on his men to make sure
everything was still going as smoothly as possible, despite recent
events. Several of the soldiers expressed their concern and
gratitude over the close call he’d had with the ferret. One even
ventured so far as to give the warrior girl credit for seeking it
out and destroying it before it could attack them. That small
concession gave Yulen heart.

MaGrath was sitting at his fire when he
finally returned. The physician stood as he approached, hands on
his hips. “We were expecting you to come eat with us,” MaGrath
commented.

“I had to check on my men first.”

“I know.”

Yulen paused, then snorted softly. “Really,
Liam. I’m exhausted. Perhaps tomorrow, once we reach Foster
City.”

“No can do,” the man shook his head. “She’s
on her last legs as well, but she’s expecting to see you.” He gave
the Battle Lord a piercing look. “Something happened back there,
and I can’t quite put my finger on it, but the dynamics between the
two of you have changed. I don’t know if it’s for the better or for
the worse, but I’m caught in the middle of it. You haven’t eaten
since early this morning, so as your doctor I’m ordering you to
come to my fire for something to fill you up.” He gave a grin. “She
even found some wild onions to go with that squirrel.”

Yulen stretched, relenting, and let MaGrath
lead the way to where he was settled for the night.

The first thing he noticed was that the wide
bandage that had covered the one side of her face had been removed.
MaGrath even commented on it.

“Time for her scabs to see the light of day.
Once they fall away on their own, hopefully there shouldn’t be too
much scarring. Of course, it’ll be another couple of weeks before
her cheekbone is completely knitted.”

Yulen stopped dead in his tracks as cold
guilt seized him. He had been so intent on claiming her kisses,
he’d totally forgotten about the extent of her injuries. Lowering
his gaze, he took a seat on the ground before the fire and crossed
his legs before MaGrath’s never-miss-a-thing eyes saw his
hesitation and asked more probing questions.

The squirrel smelled tempting. Dripping fat
hissed in the fire as the carcass roasted on the spit. Yulen
noticed that the warrior girl had removed her heavy leather
outerwear and the furred sweater, just as he had also doffed his
ruined jerkin. Now she had on a simple sleeveless blouse of a
nondescript color. Another stab of guilt passed through him as he
realized they’d taken her away from the compound without a single
personal possession except for the longbow and quiver. At least
he’d had another shirt in his saddlebags.

From the moment he approached the fire they
had not locked eyes. For once Yulen was thankful for MaGrath’s
easygoing banter to fill the awkward void. He watched as Atty
shredded the meat, adding some of the small onions and greens she’d
stuffed in the animal before handing him a trencher. Their fingers
brushed for a second, and she finally looked up at him. The
expression he saw there was enough to bring a smile to one corner
of his mouth.

“So, I guess we have to add the title of cook
to your list of accomplishments,” he teased.

“Sometimes a hunter has to be able to cook
what he’s captured, or the meat could go to waste before he can get
it back to the compound, and the hunt would be for naught, don’t
you agree?” Her words were sharp, but Yulen saw the twinkle in the
depth of her gaze.

“Agreed, which is why you’ve piqued my
curiosity. How would you have cooked that ferret back down the
road? I don’t think a spit’s been made to hold a carcass that
size.”

“Then we would do what we did for the badger.
Or have you forgotten so soon?”

MaGrath grinned. “Ah, she got you there,
Yulen. Dig a pit to roast it in, is that what you mean?”

Atty tilted her head over her own plate.
“Actually, now that I think of it, we may have been too hasty
leaving the animal behind.”

Yulen paused, a bite halfway to his mouth.
“You’re kidding, right?”

“No. Only the head held the venom. And it
died before any of it got into its bloodstream. Damn.” It was clear
that she was angry with herself. What had begun as light fun had
turned into serious consideration. “How stupid could I have been?”
she berated herself softly.

“What do you mean?” Yulen asked, suddenly
attentive.

“We could have tried the meat. There’s not
that many animals we’ve found that aren’t palatable. And even if
its meat had turned out to be too strong to stomach, there was
still the venom. Damn! Can you imagine how toxic my arrows could
have been with the barbs dipped in that thing’s poison?”

“We’re not going back to retrieve any part of
that creature,” Yulen told her.

She nodded. “I understand. Maybe next
time.”

“Oh, sweet heavens, let’s hope
there’s
not
a next time!”
MaGrath exclaimed before leaning over the fire to carve himself
another portion. Yulen glanced up to see Atty watching him, but now
her eyes were hooded, the damaged side of her face mostly shadowed
by the fire in the deepening night. He continued to stare at her,
his eyes lingering over the curve of her cheek and the softness of
her lips, before he realized how beautiful she was. Despite her
injuries and swollen nose, she had a strong profile.

“—when we get to Foster City?” MaGrath asked
him.

“Pardon?” Yulen started, unaware he’d been
asked a question.

The physician smiled but kept his observation
to himself. “What’s the first thing you plan to do when we get to
Foster City?” he repeated.

“Dunk myself in the hottest bath with the
strongest bar of soap they make,” he laughed. Immediately he
winced. The scar wasn’t quite set. His hand went to the gash and
realized he’d opened it once again. MaGrath sighed and reached
behind him for a clean cloth from his saddlebags to hand it
over.

“Thanks.” Yulen held it to his face. For some
reason the burning sensation felt good. It centered him and gave
him a strong sense of the here and now. He was only vaguely aware
of the physician getting to his feet.

“You two have done your duty for the day. Now
it’s time I earned my keep and check to see if any of the men are
needing my attention. Will you be all right until I get back?” he
pointedly asked the Battle Lord.

Yulen waved him on. The physician laughed
softly, then grabbed his quilled leather bag containing his
medicines and walked off, leaving the two of them alone.

Yulen glanced at the cloth. There was a thin
smear of blood on it. He pressed the cloth back against the wound
and sighed. He glanced up and saw the warrior girl watching him.
“Talk to me,” he said in a low voice.

She tilted her head in a way he now knew was
a habit she had whenever she was thinking. “What were you thinking
when I had you freeze back there?”

There was too much that had happened between
them now for him to give her any other answer except the truth. “I
thought you were going to kill me,” he replied bluntly. To his
surprise, she seemed to expect his answer.

“Because you still think of me as the enemy,”
she said flatly.

Yulen shook his head. “No. Not anymore.” He
glanced up. “Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Still think of me as your enemy?”

“Only when you make one of your crappy
statements,” she said.

Yulen snorted softly. “Liam said you called
me an asshole.”

“I sure did, and I will. Every time you act
like one.”

His eyes raked over her, noting her ease with
him. “Fair enough. And whenever you put on airs, I’ll be the first
one to bring you down a peg or two as a reminder.”

Her eyes widened. “Me? When have I ever put
on airs?”

Yulen checked the cloth again to see if the
bleeding had stopped. It had, and he dropped the rag into his lap.
“When you try to prove to my men that you are superior in the art
of hunting.”

“But I am.”

“And we are superior to you in the art of
warfare, and in how we can protect our homes and loved ones. But I
don’t go lauding that over you. If my men are going to learn from
you, first you have to gain their trust. I’m doing all I can to
make them see you the way I see you, so that they’ll listen to you
and follow your lead when it’s time.”

Atty gave him a long look. “And how do you
see me?” she asked in a small voice.

Immediately memories of her in his arms
flooded his thoughts, and Yulen dropped his head. “I don’t see you
as Mutah any longer, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Then...if I’m no longer the enemy...and no
longer Mutah...what am I?” she asked, her voice even softer.

Lifting his knees, Yulen leaned back against
the tree and rested his hands on them. Once the ferret had been
killed and the caravan had continued on its way, they had not
spoken a word to each other until tonight. But what had occurred
back in the forest, what they had felt and done, sooner or later he
knew they had to discuss it.

Taking a deep breath and keeping his eyes
locked on his hands, Yulen wondered how to broach the subject.
“Atty—”

“I want...I want to stay with you,” she
admitted in a feathery voice.

He glanced up. Her face was lowered, her
hands clasped in her lap.

“You’ll be able to remain at Alta Novis until
you’ve fulfilled your duty—”

“I meant tonight.”

Her admission rocked him. “You can’t,” he
whispered.

“Why?” She lifted her face, and he could see
it shining wetly in the firelight. He rubbed his eyes with his
thumb and forefinger, noting they smelled slightly of onion.

“When we get to Foster City, the Battle Lord
there will assign us lodging for the night. You’ll be able to have
your own room with a real bed and—”

“And what?”

“Annnd...you won’t have to worry about
someone sneaking up on you and maybe attacking you. At
least,
I
won’t have to worry
about that happening to you,” he amended. He listened to the sounds
of the men in the camp as they prepared for sleep. It was a
comforting, familiar scenario.

“Yul?”

He snorted, smiling slightly. “My mother is
the only person to ever call me that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. Don’t be. You’ll get to meet her when we
get home.” Home. Funny how the word had suddenly obtained a double
meaning. “Be careful, though, how you refer to me in front of my
men. Liam calls me by my first name because he used to work under
my father’s aegis. He’s known me since I was born.”

“How old are you now?” she asked.

“I’m almost thirty. I took my father’s sword
after he died two years ago. And you?”

“I’ve seen twenty springs.”

He saw her wipe her cheeks as the salty tears
stung her abraded skin.

“Yul? Before we say anything further, I must
ask you. For my sanity’s sake. Is there someone waiting for you in
Alta Novis? A w-woman? A...wife?”

He started to open his mouth to answer when
she interrupted him, speaking quickly before she lost her
courage.

“I can’t forget what you did to me back in
the forest. What we did. I can’t erase how I felt or what...” She
took a shuddering breath as her tears began to fall again. “So if
there’s someone else, if you have claimed a wife or a mistress, or
there is another woman who’ll claim you for her own once we reach
your compound, I need to know now. I need to you tell me the truth,
so I can be ready for it when I see her.”

Hiding his anger, Yulen softly asked her, “Do
you believe I would have touched you if I’d already given my heart
to another?”