The Battle Lord's Lady (22 page)

There was going to be enough fodder for
gossip to fuel every tongue in the compound for weeks.

They reached the main lodge where Atty saw an
older woman standing beneath the shelter of a striped awning,
watching their return. From the gray in her brown hair and the grim
set of her mouth, Atty knew she couldn’t be one of Yulen’s
mistresses.

The Battle Lord brought the horse to a halt
in front of the woman. Sliding out of the saddle, he strode over
and gave her a warm hug, which she returned with a kiss. He then
went back to his horse and held up his hand to help Atty dismount.
She dropped lightly to the ground.

“Madigan,” he announced softly, leading Atty
under the awning, “this is Atrilan Ferran. Atty, Madigan D’Jacques.
My mother.”

Atty remained rooted to where she stood as
the woman’s brown eyes took in every inch of her, especially her
tangle of hair.

“You’re bringing one of the enemy within our
fold?” Madigan asked. She had a husky voice, as if she suffered
from a chest cold.

“She’s no longer the enemy,” Yulen
corrected.

“She’s a Mutah.”

“Good eye, Madigan.”

She shot him a baleful glare. “No smartass
remarks, Yul. Are you coming in, or do you need to see to your men
first?”

“I’m having my Seconds taking care of things
at the moment,” he told her, and gave Atty a little push, urging
her to go inside. He nodded to MaGrath, who tagged along
behind.

Atty stared around the room as they entered
the main hall. Like the main lodge in Foster City, one entire wall
contained an enormous stone fireplace. But that was where all
semblance ended. Zane Batuset was a bachelor, and his lodge
reflected his enjoyment of the hunt by the mounted animals, heads,
and skins covering the walls. Here, in Alta Novis, the walls
displayed an assortment of weapons. Above the long oak mantel were
three pairs of swords, set at intervals along the wall. On another
wall was a virtual collection of short swords, daggers, a couple of
maces, a lance, a pair of crossbows—Atty’s eyes widened at the
arsenal on display. She looked over at Yulen in surprise.

“My father and grandfather collected weapons
of all kinds,” Yulen explained.

Madigan made her way to the stuffed chair
before the fireplace and motioned for them to sit. Yulen politely
declined.

“Give us a chance to clean up first.”

“Us?” the older woman emphasized.

“Yes. Us.”

“Very well. I’ll have the woman—”

“Her name is Atrilan. You can call her Atty,”
Yulen interrupted to remind her curtly.

Madigan leaned forward in her chair. “Okay.
Let’s just drop the pretense altogether. Give me the bottom line,
Yul.”

“I’ve asked Atty to come live here.”

“
Asked
her? For what purpose?” Looking to MaGrath, she demanded,
“What’s your dealings with this Mutah?”

“Don’t call me that,” Atty interjected.

“When I want to hear from you, I’ll address
you directly,” Madigan said sharply. “Liam?”

“If I’m a Mutah, then you’re a rude and
despicable woman,” Atty shot back.

For a moment it appeared that the older woman
might rise from her chair and strike the warrior girl. Liam stepped
forward just in case. “Don’t judge her until you get to know her,”
the physician responded in a gentler tone of voice.

“I don’t care to, nor do I want to get to
know her. I’ve been told she killed sixteen of our men.”

“She also helped me to repel that horde of
Bloods,” Yulen said firmly.

“What are Bloods? You mean that army of Mutah
like her?”

“They’re
nothing
like me,” Atty returned. She kept her
fists clenched by her side and hoped this interrogation would soon
be over. “They’re the dregs of humanity. My people consider them to
be unsalvageable. They’ve attacked my compound at least a dozen
times that I can remember.”

“
Your
compound?” Madigan glanced up at her son. “Is that where you
found her? In
her
compound?”
By her sarcastic tone of voice, the older woman made it clear she
wouldn’t believe Mutah were capable of something as civilized as
maintaining a compound.

“Her ability with a bow is beyond
extraordinary,” MaGrath continued. “She’ll be able to teach our men
valuable tricks and tips.”

Madigan continued to scan the faces of her
son and the woman. Slowly her face grew red with suppressed anger.
“You’re sleeping with her, aren’t you, Yul?”

“She’s staying with me in my quarters, if
that’s what you mean,” he countered almost casually, refusing to
back down or show remorse. Atty felt his hand at her back. Slipping
one of her hands behind her, she was relieved to feel his fingers
lace through hers.

“Well, then, I guess there’s nothing I can do
about that now, can I? The damage has already been done.”

Atty flared. “
Damage?
”

“I just hope to God you’re using some kind of
protection, Yul. I’d hate to think of what kind of creature she
would give birth to.”

This time it was Yulen who stepped forward
and grabbed the woman by the shoulders, lifting her out of chair
and holding her inches away from his face where he addressed her in
a low, threatening voice.

“Okay, Mother. Enough is enough. Listen
very carefully because I will only tell you this once. I am
pledging Atrilan my heart, and, God willing, she’ll pledge hers to
me. I don’t know yet for certain because I haven’t asked her. But
if she does, then I’ll be posting our banns on the front of the
doors to this hall in the morning. Once she becomes my wife, and if
we are ever blessed with children, your
grand
children, Madigan, you will keep your tongue
in your head and accept them. Am I making myself clear?”

He released her, shoving her backwards until
her legs hit the chair seat, and she sat heavily upon the
overstuffed cushion.

“Until we are wed, Atty remains untouched.
Talk to Liam if you don’t believe me. Atty has proven her
allegiance to me and to Alta Novis, or didn’t you notice how she
helped protect the compound a few minutes ago?” Looking over at
MaGrath, Yulen said, “See if you can pound some sense in her head,
Liam. Maybe our encounter with the bull ferret might give her a
different perspective. In the meantime, we’re going to our quarters
to clean up. Berta!”

From the knot of servants who had been
huddled at the inter-connecting door leading from the main hall to
the kitchen, an older woman disengaged herself and approached the
small group. “Sir?”

“A late supper tray, if you can, please.”

“Anything in particular?”

Yulen paused. “Just be sure to include a mug
of milk,” he ordered, hiding a smile. “Atty, come.”

Holding her hand, he led her up the wide
staircase that was almost a duplicate of the one in Foster City,
with the exception of the garland of morning glories wrapped around
the banister. In the back of his mind, Yulen noticed the blue color
of the closed blossoms, but continued upward without stopping.

Madigan turned around once they were out of
sight, and was met with an angry expression. “I haven’t done
anything wrong,” she defended herself.

“Oh, yes, you have. Yulen is risking
everything so he and Atty can be together, and do you offer him a
moment’s peace?” Rather than wait for an answer, MaGrath turned on
his heel and started out of the room.

“Liam! Wait!”

He paused, slowly turning back around. Rory
D’Jacques had been his best friend, and while the man had lived
MaGrath had kept his feelings for Madigan to himself, having loved
her just as deeply, but losing her when he’d gone to Far Troit to
pursue his passion in learning the medicinal arts. When Yulen had
been born, he’d rejoiced at the news, and secretly thought of the
man as the son he’d never had. Now, ever since Rory’s death, he had
waited for Madigan to give him a sign that her mourning was at an
end, and he could ask her to accept him.

“Liam.” She hurried over and laid a
hand on the man’s arm. “I can’t accept that woman as Yulen’s wife.
I just can’t. Don’t
you
at
least understand?” she pleaded softly.

He nodded. “Yes, Maddy, I can. But you
have to look at this from a different perspective. Yulen is all too
aware he lost his father to Mutah. He’ll never forget that. But
this woman is not what you’re trying to make her. She lost
her
family because of
our
people. We went into her village
and began slaughtering people she’d grown up with, with no more
thought or conscience than if we’d been cleaning fish. Yet
something happened between them. Something wonderful and rare and
very beautiful. You need to watch the both of them when they’re
together. Watch them, Maddy. If you’re wanting a wife for Yulen who
is his equal, a woman who’ll risk her life for his, who’ll show him
the same amount of passion and loyalty, then try to find it in your
heart to accept her. Trust me when I say this. Despite all things,
Rory would have accepted her.”

“Are you sure?” Madigan whispered tearfully.
“He’s my only child, but she’s...she’s...”

“She’s different, yes. But at some point love
is transcending all of this. All the differences, all the hate
we’ve cultivated for each other for all these years...” MaGrath
shook his head. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” He glanced at the top
of the stairs, then back into eyes he knew could be warm and
tender. “Remember how you felt about Rory? Remember how he held
you? And loved you? And protected you at all cost?” He pointed
toward Yulen’s rooms. “Like father, like son. Goodnight, Madigan.
I’ll see you in the morning.” Giving her a small smile, he kissed
the corner of her mouth and left her standing in the middle of the
main hall.

Stillness descended in the great room, but
the lone woman standing beside the enormous fireplace could sense
nothing but a deep, empty ache in her heart. She’d lost the
greatest love of her life, and believed she was about to lose the
son created by that love. More than anything, she was terrified now
that she’d made a mistake that could never be forgiven by the one
man she had hoped she could spend the rest of her life with.

Lifting her hands to her face, she cried
silently and retreated to her rooms at the other end of the
lodge.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Pledge

“Yul, it’s okay,” she told him softly,
watching as he angrily shoved a chair into a small writing table
that sat against a wall.

“She had no right to talk to you like that,”
he began.

“Don’t you think I hear talk like that any
time I come across other Normals? Yulen...” She went over and
grabbed his arm, turning him around so he would look directly at
her. “Yul, don’t you think your own men have thought the same
thing? Only they didn’t say it aloud because they knew what you’d
do if you heard it. Or if it got back to you.”

He stared down at blue-gray eyes that were
open and honest, and painfully worried. Sighing loudly he swept her
into his arms and felt her mouth reaching up for his. All during
the day he’d been wanting to feel her like this, ready for his
touch, ready to give him her love as she received his in return.
His body and mind centered on hers as they clung to each other,
oblivious to the sounds of the compound settling in for the night.
Oblivious to the faint echoes coming in from outside the windows.
Of the sound of families weeping as they learned of their loved
ones’ demise. Oblivious to the rapping at the door. At first.

Reluctantly he pulled away from her and
walked over to unlock his bedroom door. Berta stood at the
threshold with a heavily-laden tray. He started to take it from her
when she drew back slightly.

“No, thank you, sir. I can manage.”

Nodding, he opened the door wider, and the
servant woman walked in with quick, little steps. She tried not to
stare too openly at the woman sitting on the edge of the Battle
Lord’s bed, but she couldn’t ignore the slender body nor the
beautiful features on the Mutah warrior with the dark blue
hair.

Laying the tray down on the writing table,
she turned and looked at Yulen. “I have several pots of water
warming downstairs, sir. Want me to bring them up as soon as
they’re ready?”

“Thanks, Berta. That’ll be fine.”

She smiled, allowed herself one last cautious
glance at Atty, and hurried out the door. Yulen closed it behind
her.

“The kitchen help’s going to get an earful
this evening,” Atty wryly noted.

“Not to mention what else tongues are wagging
about tonight. First we encounter the Bloods, and you fight against
them alongside us. Then they get to see my mother pretty much write
you off as an unwanted disease.” He rubbed his hands over his face.
“God, I’m tired. Atrilan, I need to leave you for a while. I need
to take care of the dead and see that all the families have been
notified.” He cast her a sad look. “My job is going to be that much
harder. You understand, don’t you?”

Atty lowered her head, nodding.

“How can I get people to accept you when they
already have two very good reasons to hate you? The fact that
you’re Mutah is enough reason for most of them. But once they’re
told you’re the person responsible for their son’s death...son,
husband, father...”

“I
know
what you’re saying, Yulen,” she interrupted him. When she
lifted her face, he could see tears in her eyes. “Don’t you think I
wish it could have been different? Don’t you think I wish
circumstances could have...”

She walked into his embrace and laid her head
against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms protectively around
her. They stood that way for another minute or two as he slowly
rubbed her back, then Yulen stepped away from her to head for the
door.