One Battle Lord’s Fate (20 page)

He glanced up at the velvety black sky. The clouds hid the stars and moon to where navigation was impossible. If it weren’t for the road, they could easily lose all sense of direction.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t,” he replied, drawing his own blanket tighter around himself.

“How soon before we stop for the night?”

“I’d like to get another couple of miles under our belts.”

Gaines coughed into his fist, then moved closer to the small fire. Behind him, Yulen could hear the rest of his men talking low among themselves as they huddled around similar fires. A brisk wind pushed at their backs. Yulen reached behind his head and pulled out the leather fringe tying his hair. The thick locks swung forward, covering the sides of his face and giving his ears some protection against the cold.

“Sir.” With one word, Gaines got his whole attention. The Second was on his feet and staring back in the direction of Alta Novis. Yulen went to stand next to him. The Second gestured to his ear. “What is that?” the man whispered.

His movements had been noticed by the rest of the company. They were already on their feet, swords quietly pulled from their scabbards and now concealed underneath their blankets.

Yulen strained to hear what had alerted the young man. Another handful of seconds passed, and then he could barely make it out.
Clop-clop. Clop-clop.
It was rhythmic and fast, resembling the sound of a galloping horse.

Only different.

The Battle Lord lifted a fist, the silent command for everyone to be prepared. “Douse the fires,” he added.

“Douse the fires,” Gaines passed along. Instantly all lights were extinguished as the galloping noise drew closer.

“Horses, Sir?”

“Sounds like just one.”

“One? One rider, alone on the road, on a night like this?” Gaines sounded doubtful. Yulen concurred.

The sound came nearer. In the intense blackness surrounding them, there was no way Yulen and his men could see who or what was approaching. The noise began to lessen as it approached. He estimated who or what making the sound couldn’t be more than twenty yards away. Thank goodness he had ordered his men off the road and far enough into the woods to shelter them from the wind and snow when they’d needed a rest stop.

The sound ceased, all except for someone huffing and puffing. Yulen lifted his sword from beneath his blanket.

“Please, Sir. No need for those. It’s me. Singling.”

Yulen stepped forward. “Singling? Why in the world were you following us?” He remembered that many Mutah were able to see in almost perfect darkness, Atty included.

The Mutah teenager came closer. The sound of the boy’s hoof-like feet on the packed roadway was hollow.

At his command, a small torch was handed to him. Yulen held it up to where they could watch the young man approach. The boy was almost wheezing from the trek. He was exhausted and nearly spent as he crouched down to catch his breath.
Because he had to find us. He’s been running to find us.

Singling tried to swallow, but failed. Gaines handed him a water skin, and the teenager took several sips. “Alta Novis has been captured,” he finally managed to get out.

“
What!”
The word escaped him before he was aware of speaking. Kneeling before the boy, Yulen thrust his face closer to the Mutah struggling to catch his breath. “Tell me everything,” he tersely ordered.

“Rafe D’Jacques and some other Battle Lords have taken over the compound. D’Jacques claimed it by rightful inheritance. Said he was first born, not you. Sir, is it true?”

“Sadly, yes. Continue.”

“Many of your men were put in the dungeons. All Mutah were ordered to evacuate the compound immediately, or else they would be put to death. The other Battle Lords, the ones not following D’Jacques, were ordered to leave, too. They had an hour to pack and go.”

Stunned, Yulen dropped to the ground. His mind whirled at the news. So Rafe had taken the opportunity to seize control? To declare the compound his, all because of his birth order?

“What about Atty? What of my son?”

Singling shook his head. “They took her from the lodge. They stripped her naked and tied her to the bell. I heard D’Jacques demanding to know where the battle prince was, but she wouldn’t tell him. Sir, you have to come back! You have to come back now!”

Yulen didn’t have to think twice about his answer. “Mount up!” he yelled at his men. “We’re returning to Alta Novis. Be combat ready!” Holding out a hand, Yulen helped the boy to his feet. “Ride with me, son. Tell me all you know about how this went down.”

They were on their way back within seconds of the order. Yulen pushed his big stallion to a lope, as did the others. No one had to be told about the new development. Already he could hear the men passing the word among themselves.

“Alta Novis has been captured!”

“The Battle Lady has been taken hostage. They’ve tortured her!”

“The Battle Prince is missing!”

Yulen drew the Mutah’s hooved hands around his waist. The action forced the boy to rest his cheek on the Battle Lord’s shoulder. The warmth at his back reminded Yulen of the countless times he and Atty had ridden this same way through the forest, in search of nice quiet spot to rest and talk. And perhaps make love.

Gaines pulled up beside Yulen. “Sir, those Normals attacking New Bearinger? What if they are from D’Jacques’ compound?”

Of course. It made perfect sense. Create a diversionary tactic to lure me away from Alta Novis so he couldn’t be challenged.
For a moment, Yulen wondered if the rumor of Bloods amassing to attack Foster City was also part of Rafe’s plan before dismissing the idea. The Bloods were rumored to be approaching from a different direction. The troops that descended upon New Bearinger came from the south, from the direction of Alta Seran.

Rafe probably had his men follow a few days behind him. That way he would already be at Alta Novis when they arrived to attack New Bearinger.

The plan was flawless...or would have been except for two major gaffs. Because of his hatred for all things Mutah, D’Jacques had ordered an immediate evacuation of every Mutah from the compound soon after declaring himself the new Battle Lord. He never took in consideration how loyal the Mutah were to Yulen.

In addition, the man had wasted very little time in declaring himself the new Battle Lord, and those two decisions had placed the odds in Yulen’s favor. It meant that Yulen wouldn’t be that far down the road, enabling some of the Mutah to catch up with him.

“Singling, are there any other Mutah coming to meet us?”

“About a dozen, but I was the fastest, and they told me to go ahead of them.”

“Then the rest of the Mutah are on their way to other compounds?”

“No, Sir. They’re all hiding in the woods, waiting for you to return.”

Stunned, Yulen gave the boy a look of disbelief. The banished Mutah were waiting for him to return to Alta Novis? He did a quick mental calculation. There had to be at least two hundred Mutah who’d taken up permanent residence at the compound. Of those, a good half-dozen were of the hunters caste, not counting Atty.

Atty.

“They took her from the lodge. They stripped her naked and tied her to the bell. I heard D’Jacques demanding to know where the battle prince was, but she wouldn’t tell him.”

Tied to the bell, without anything to protect her from cold, wind, and snow? Yulen gritted his teeth as his anger grew. He knew it was a favorite form of entertainment among Battle Lords, torturing Mutah while taking bets as to how long the man or woman could remain alive. Hell, even his own men, back in the days before Atty, had played that sick and twisted game whenever they went on their yearly cleaning sprees.

Hold on, my love! Hold on! When I get there, I’m going to make my half-brother pay dearly. And then we’re going to take bets on how long
he
will survive!

Chapter Thirty

Even

The sound of chopping roused her from her stupor. Atty managed to open her eyes, but focusing was difficult. She no longer felt the cold. In truth, she felt...nothing. Her skin was ice. Her hands and feet refused to obey. The ropes alone kept her upright.

There was the shattering of glass. The smell of smoke drifted toward her. It was barely dawn, but the rising sun would soon warm things up.

She had no memory of the night before. She looked down at her body, surprised by her lack of feeling. Her overly-full breasts had compensated as only nature could, and leaked milk until it ran like twin streams down her body, puddling at her feet until the pressure was eased. It was the only warmth she’d felt since being taken hostage.

The smoke grew thicker. She could hear the sound of flames, and she wondered what was burning. Lifting her head was painful and nearly impossible. A bonfire had been set not far from the lodge. As she watched, a couple of soldiers came around the corner. They were carrying a large slab of wood.

No. Not a slab. In the dim morning light she recognized the carving of the longbow and arrow. It was part of the headboard from her and Yulen’s bed. The elaborately carved headboard Yulen had ordered made to give as a gift to Atty. D’Jacques was burning the contents of her home one piece at a time.

The men threw the section of detailed wood onto the bonfire, then walked back to the lodge. Atty watched as the oak smoldered while little flames licked the sides of the board. When Rafe’s men re-emerged carrying Mattox’s baby bed, she had to close her eyes and bite her tongue to keep from crying out. She heard the sound of the bed falling into the bonfire, and the subsequent
whoosh
as the blaze sent sparks spiraling into the sky.

“Halt.” The guard called out to someone nearby. “Come no further. Go back to your home, woman.”

“I had to see her.” The voice was filled with disdain. A familiar voice that made Atty force her eyes open and look at the figure standing a few feet away.

The soldier advanced toward the woman. “If you refuse, I will have to place you under arrest.”

“Go ahead! Try! You have no idea how much I hate this woman!” Danna Abalam angrily replied. For once, her hands were empty as she stood there with her arms wrapped within her fur-line cloak. Fleetingly, Atty felt grateful the woman wouldn’t be attacking her with another bucket, like she had months before.

The guard paused, apparently surprised by the strength of the woman’s disgust. Danna pressed on.

“She murdered my husband. Do you hear me?
Murdered
him! In cold blood! And I have been waiting a long time to get my revenge.” Gracing the soldier with a pleading smile, she added, “Please. Let me have my due. Just a couple of blows. Let me get this venom I’ve been carrying for so long out of my system. Please. For the sake of my husband’s memory, let me hurt her the same way she’s hurt me and my son.” With tears streaming down her cheeks, she added, “You can watch.”

The soldier glanced around. Except for the woman, the courtyard was empty.

“Please!” Danna whispered.

“All right. A couple of blows, but no more. I’m due to be relieved shortly.”

Danna gave him a thankful look, then walked toward Atty, stopping less than an arm’s length away.

Atty met her eye-to-eye, trying to read the woman’s next action. She never expected the stunning blow from the clenched fist, or for the other hand to plow into her abdomen. Gasping, Atty fell against the ropes, unable to defend herself from the slaps and scratches raining down on her.

And then the beating stopped. Panting, Atty peered up at the woman, who leaned in close enough to whisper in her ear. “Now we’re even.” Danna stepped back and spat at her. Walking over to the guard, she grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it. Without saying another word, the woman left the courtyard the same time another soldier came around the corner of the lodge. He gave the bonfire a wide berth and saluted Atty’s guard.

“How was your shift?”

“Uneventful.”

The new guard looked at Atty, pointing at her. “Where did she get those bloody scratches on her face and shoulders?”

“She’s been fighting the ropes, and banged herself against the post a few times.”

“So she’s still alive and kicking, eh? Guess that knocks me out of the pool.”

The two men laughed and slapped each other on the back before the old guard hurried away. Atty watched the new guard amble back toward the bonfire until he was halfway between it and the bell tower. Not once did he check on her or the ropes, or else he would have discovered the knife Danna had pressed into Atty’s hands.

She continued to pull against her bonds, using the actions to mask her cutting the ropes. It was slow work and very difficult. With her preferred hand out of commission, she had only the one to saw at the thick strands. Thankfully, the cold and thinned blood flow to the damaged wrist masked most of the pain. It also meant her fingers were numb, and breathing was like inhaling ice shards. She knew she had probably opened up some of the nearly-healed wounds in her back, but there was no feeling left anywhere on her body. She was slowly freezing to death. The next time she fell asleep could be her last, yet she continued to work the blade against the iced ropes. Fleetingly, she worried what would happen once she managed to cut herself free. Would she be able to crawl to safety without the guard, or someone, noticing?

She looked around. Where could she go? The sun was almost above the compound walls. People would be getting up to go about their daily work.

The guard glanced back at her and chuckled at her pathetic attempts. Atty knew he was using the bonfire to keep warm. More than that, he had placed himself between her and the fire on purpose, to keep the heat from reaching her.

Atty struggled again. The knife cut through the remaining strands, freeing her wrists. She pressed her lips together to keep from crying out as she pulled her arms in front of her body and tried to reestablish movement in them. Placing her arms back behind her, she started sawing on the ropes binding her waist and hips. Once she cut through those, she would be able to wriggle her legs and upper chest out of the rest.