Every Battle Lord's Nightmare (18 page)

            Franjet led them to the base of the cliff where an older man with salt and pepper hair stood waiting in front of what she assumed was the main lodge. It was carved out of the cliff face, like all the other structures above it. Atty studied the imposing figure standing there, with his physically fit frame and short goatee. The man radiated power and self-assurance.

            And something else.

            Her sixth sense began to niggle the back of her mind, keeping her alert and on-edge. Something wasn’t right about this place or this battle lord, but her hunter’s instincts didn’t warn her of any impending danger. No red mist blossomed in front of her eyes, telling her to take immediate survival action. Biting her lips, she remained mum. As soon as she and Yulen had a private moment together, she would fill him in on what she detected. In the meantime, she continued to scan the area and the people involved, her hand clutching her bow and the single arrow that remained nocked, just in case.

            LeGreen and his men were first to stop in front of the battle lord. Getting off his horse, he strode over and the two men clasped arms, then hugged. Yulen and Batuset dismounted and walked over to exchange greetings.

            “My, my, D’Jacques. It’s been years, but you still look like the belligerent teenager who openly clashed with your father when you were here last. With the exception of that beauty mark on your face, of course.” Highcliff guffawed at his own joke and held out a hand. “Welcome back to Rocky Gorge.” His demeanor suddenly turned serious. “Forgive me for not attending Rory’s funeral. By the time I received word, it was too late to make the journey. Your father was a good man and a great battle lord.”

            Yulen clasped arms with the man and pointed to Batuset standing beside him. “This is Zane Batuset, Battle Lord of Foster City.” His voice was low and ragged. Atty watched as Yulen fought to remain upright. His face was pale and pinched, making the scar on his right cheek appear livid and fresh. She knew her husband was on his last reserves, and she prayed Twoson would arrive soon with the medicants he desperately needed.

            Highcliff smiled broadly, extending his arm to the man. “Welcome to Rocky Gorge.”

            “Thank you for allowing us this opportunity,” Batuset calmly replied.

            Highcliff scanned the small army waiting behind them, when his eyes lit on Atty. Her spine stiffened as the man’s eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of her deep blue hair. As she’d done in Oka City, she had undone the braid she normally wore her hair in while traveling, and let it flow freely about her shoulders. She wanted everyone to know who and what she was from the onset, and thus prevent anyone from accusing Yulen and her of subterfuge.

            “This must be the Mutah huntress you took to wife,” Highcliff remarked. He casually saluted her. Atty gave a slight nod in response. The battle lord turned his attention back to Yulen and Batuset. “We were awaiting your arrival. You’re the last to show, which means we can begin our conference first thing tomorrow after breakfast. In the meantime, Franjet will show you where you and your soldiers can set up your tents in section C.”

            “Section C?” Batuset repeated.

            Highcliff’s smile stiffened. “This compound is arranged in four sections. For security purposes. Our main lodge and living quarters are built into the mountain, as you can see. This is referred to as section A. I’m sure on your way down that you noticed the rest of the compound is a series of three half circles radiating outward from here. Those are sections B, C, and D. This area, B, is where our shops are located. It’s in this area where the faire has been set up. Areas C and D are for overflow. They also provide for additional barriers in the case of attacks.”

            “You get many attacks here?” Yulen muttered, trying to stifle a cough.

            “Unfortunately, yes. Mostly by Bloods. Although, of late, we’ve seen an increase in aerial activity.”

            “What sort of aerial activity?” Atty asked.

            Highcliff paused before answering. That momentary hesitation told her he was not accustomed to being questioned by a female or a Mutah. By the rigidity in his posture, she sensed the tight leash he was keeping on himself.

            “What sort, you ask? Oh, bats. Geese. Hawks. Sometimes crows. But mostly bats. They tend to roost in the caves around these parts.”

            “We had a run-in with vampire bats on our way up here,” LeGreen commented. It was the first time he’d spoken since their introduction to Highcliff. “They got one of my men.” Jerking a thumb over his shoulder, he said, “He needs medical attention.”

            “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll order my physician to seek you out as soon as you’re settled. Franjet, see that Dr. Osburg tends to the soldier. Those bats are notorious for carrying rabies, and we wouldn’t want an epidemic sweeping the compound, now would we?” Highcliff pasted a bigger smile on his face, clapped his hands together, and rubbed the palms. “Well, now that that’s taken care of, please feel free to join in the festivities. I hear there’s going to be a jousting session later this afternoon. And I understand a theater troop will be giving a performance after dark. I, for one, am looking forward to attending both. I hope to see you there. Wolfe!”

            Matriman dropped down off his horse and stepped forward at the command.

            “Show the battle lords where they can pitch their tents.” That being said, Highcliff turned to leave without bidding them goodbye or a safe night, and headed for the main lodge, when LeGreen called out to him.

            “Pardon me, Highcliff, but might I have a word with you in private?”

            Highcliff turned to answer. By his actions, Atty knew the battle lord had been expecting the interruption. She knew it as sure as the cold feeling of dread that was beginning to chill the marrow in her bones.

            “Certainly,” Highcliff accepted.

            LeGreen glanced at his second. “Bastion, take the men to section C and have them set up camp. Then come back here when you’re done.”

            Nodding, Bastion turned his horse around where Matriman had already remounted and was waiting for them to follow. Atty watched her husband hoist himself into his saddle with a little grunt. From the look he shot her, he also had warning bells going off in his head. She couldn’t wait to hear what had alarmed him, and to let him know of her own suspicions.

            For all the frivolity and joyous aspects of the faire that was meant to accompany the summit, she sensed a layer of blackness underneath. It carried with it a foreboding that stank like rancid meat.

            And she didn’t like that feeling one damn bit.

Chapter Twenty-Six

News

            They were led around the outskirts of the faire to their section. Along the way, Atty caught sight of fire-eaters, jugglers, clowns, and acrobats. There were cages containing wolfen, a badger, and a few other creatures she couldn’t identify. Plus a multitude of vendors selling everything from food to clothing and pottery. Most of the attendees were soldiers, although she spotted a few women in the crowds.

            To get to the next area, they passed through another massive gate of wood and iron, similar to the main one, only not as wide. Armed soldiers were stationed approximately every fifty yards on top of the ramparts. Everywhere she looked, steps had been taken to ensure the attendees’ safety. The place was secured.
Perhaps too tightly,
she noted to herself.

            Mastin and Paxton were already seeing to the men. Atty noticed her tent had been set up in the center of their assigned area, with the soldiers’ tents ringing it. Batuset and his men were situated directly next to them, for which she was glad.

            Yulen was slumping in his saddle when they arrived. He tried to dismount, and began to slide to the ground when Renken caught him. Mastin got his legs, and together they carried the battle lord into the silver and blue tent, laying him down amid the pillows. Atty quickly covered him with a quilt.

            “Warren, is there a fire started in the brazier?”

            “No, but I’ll get one going.”

            She lovingly stroked her husband’s forehead, pushing the sweat-damp hair out of his eyes. His face was pinched, making him appear decades older than his actual age. She could hear him struggle for every breath.

            Yulen tried to bat away her hand as consciousness returned. She grasped his wrist as she made a shushing sound to quiet him. “It’s all right, my love. You’re inside our tent.”

            “I need…to sit up,” he gasped, and she remembered earlier when he’d said he couldn’t breathe unless he was upright. Without needing to be asked, Mastin held him as Paas piled several pillows to where Yulen was more comfortable.

            “Did I…miss anything?” Yulen tried to give her a smile, but the corners of his mouth drooped.

            With their seconds present, including Renken, she figured this time was as good as any to let him know what she’d observed. “Yulen, are you able to understand me?” she gently asked.

            He managed to lift one corner of his mouth. Forcing himself to present an imposing figure to Highcliff had drained the last of his reserves.

            “What ‘cha got for me, Atty?”

            “You felt it, too, didn’t you?” she asked him. Glancing over where the others had taken a seat nearby, she told them, “There’s all sorts of wrong with this summit.”

            “There’s also a lot of questions I can’t find any answers for,” Batuset remarked. Before they could ask what sort of questions, he explained. “Like, for instance, why make us go down that dangerous slope? You know good and well there’s another, safer, and bigger trail we could have used. How else would they be able to get their own wagons down to the floor of this canyon?” He waved a hand to indicate outside the tent. “You can’t tell me all those performers out there had to use the same dinky-ass route as we were forced to use.”

            “It’s obvious they didn’t want us to bring our own wagons down,” Atty rebutted. “But I agree with you. That route was a ploy. A means to an end.”

            “Atty, what are you sensing?” Renken spoke up.

            “Yeah. What did you mean there’s all sort of wrong here?” Paxton added.

            “Highcliff…and LeGreen,” Yulen gasped.

            Atty picked up the thread. “Exactly. If I read those two correctly, Highcliff expected LeGreen to ask permission
to speak with him privately. It was if they were reading off a prepared script.”

            They were interrupted when Thrasher entered the tent unannounced. “Sorry I’m late, but this compound’s doctor wanted to interrogate me about LeGreen’s injured man. He also asked about Yulen.”

            Atty felt her guard go up. “What did he ask?”

            “Most of his questions were the same ones I would ask if anyone showing a visible illness entered the compound. What were his symptoms. Did I feel the man was contagious. What medications had I prescribed for him. But…” The doctor hesitated.

            “But?” Mastin urged.

            “But… I don’t know. Call it what you will, but I would almost swear the man seemed happy to learn of Yulen’s distress. So I tested him.”

            Atty blinked. “You tested him?”

            “Yes. I told him what Dr. Tridor had prescribed for him in Oka City.” Thrasher’s expression darkened. “The man agreed with Tridor’s diagnosis and medication. Atty, you and Yulen, and I and all of us know Tridor’s medicants were little more than placebos. Dr. Osburg just proved to me he’s either wholly incompetent, or he’s involved in whatever scheme is being hatched.”

            “Why do you feel Osburg’s an accomplice?” Renken inquired. He was the only person who’d remained on his feet, as was his habit. “Just because he agreed with the other doctor’s diagnosis doesn’t mean he’s a part of whatever scheme is being cooked up.”

            Thrasher turned to the man. “I’ve suspected something because of the medicant prescribed in the first place. Yulen should have shown some kind of progress, but there was nothing. I may be young, but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid. Plus, I’ve never heard of the concoction Tridor prescribed. And for Osburg to agree only confirmed my suspicions. Any doctor worth his medical degree isn’t going to take the word of another without first examining the patient. It just isn’t done, nor is it ethical. For Osburg to blow off my concerns by agreeing to Tridor’s diagnosis, and not coming here to look at Yulen, tells me the man isn’t practicing medicine for our benefit!”

            “Ho! D’Jacques of Alta Novis!”

            “What the?” Mastin arose and exited out the tent, but he remained directly in front of the flap so that everyone within could hear. “I’m Mastin, D’Jacques’ second. The battle lord is in a meeting at the moment. What do you need?”

            “There is a Mutah and a small cadre of men carrying his banner outside the main gates. They’re requesting to see your master.”

            “Twoson,” Atty whispered.

            “We’ve been expecting them,” Mastin replied. “Please allow them in.”

            “We need you to come escort them,” the guard countered.

            A moment later, Mastin stuck his head through the doorway. “I’m going to fetch Twoson and the others. I’ll be right back,” he told them, and left.

            “Oh, thank the heavens they’re back safely,” Paas remarked.

            “Yeah, but what the hell was that comment the guard made about seeing their master?” Renken glanced around the tent. “Since when is a battle lord anyone’s master? Commander or general, I can see. But master has an ownership vibe to it that rubs me the wrong way.”

            “A lot of…battle lords…continue to…rule with such a hand,” Yulen murmured. “It was the…norm…for generations.”

            “Let’s hope Twoson managed to bring back some medicine that’ll help you,” Atty said.