Every Battle Lord's Nightmare (9 page)

            The man stared at Twoson, whose Mutah features were clearly evident, unlike Fortune’s. “I am Willhem Obrey, head councilman here in North Crestin.”

            Twoson bobbed his head once. “I am Twoson Pike, head of council in Wallis.”

            Obrey’s eyes flickered to Yulen, then back to Twoson. “I know Wallis is under D’Jacques’ banner. Is that why you’re here? To try and influence our decision?”

            “I am accompanying the battle lord to Corado as a representative of the Mutah people. I also consider D’Jacques as a friend and ally. He and his men have been instrumental in helping us through bad times, as well as protecting us from Bloods and other enemies.”

            “Don’t listen to him, Willhem,” the other councilman spoke out. “He could very well be acting under threat of retaliation.”

            Twoson scowled at the man. “And who might you be?”

            “The name’s Banyon.”

            “I take it you’re the vocal dissenter in the council?”

            Yulen had to bite his lips to keep from smiling at the insult.

            Twoson snorted and addressed Obrey directly. “We encountered a colony of bats on our way here, which is why we request asylum. Add my voice to D’Jacques’ in calling for the three laws.”

            “You will owe us nothing other than the safety of this compound,” Atty added. “If you do not wish to discuss any matters with us, that is your right. You have my word as Mutah.”

            Obrey grunted. After another few seconds, he nodded. “Very well. You and your men may take refuge behind our walls for the night, but we request you leave at first light in the morning.”

            “Exactly my intent,” Yulen assured him.

            “Wait!” Banyon moved forward to accost the council leader. “You can’t grant them the privilege without a vote!”

            “I can, and did, the same way I allowed them into our compound in the first place,” Obrey snapped. “Furthermore, I’m thinking it might be wise to listen to what the battle lord has to say.”

            Banyon gasped. “You’re not serious!”

            “Not only is he serious, but he’s wise, which is probably why he’s head of council and not you,” Twoson rebutted. His demeanor changed, and when he spoke again, it was with a softer tone. “Banyon, forgive me for my outburst, but I can see you are young and headstrong. Most likely you’re inexperienced in dealing with issues such as this. But I can also tell you are intelligent, which is why you have earned an austere place among the townspeople. All D’Jacques asks is to be heard. That’s all.”

            Obrey glanced at the younger man. “You have one voice in the council, same as I do. But this will demand the entire council’s decision. D’Jacques?” He turned to the battle lord. “By seeking the Three Laws of Equality, I will assume you are fully aware of what will happen if any of those laws are broken. Any and all punishment will rest on you.”

            “And me,” Twoson noted.

            Yulen nodded. “I accept all responsibility. And I thank you for allowing us to stay the night.”

            Obrey surveyed the group of soldiers beyond the front gates. “As I said, we don’t have accommodations for all of you, but I can offer you and your immediate entourage a warm abode.”

            “Thank you again, Obrey. However, we would feel more comfortable using our own tents, and not put any further burden upon you and your staff. In exchange for your hospitality, we brought enough game to feed the whole of North Crestin.” Yulen waved a hand to signal the provisions wagon.

            For the first time, the tiny hint of a smile crossed Obrey’s face. “Very well. I accept your payment. Tonight, we feast.”

            “What about meeting with them?” a third voice chimed in. By the man’s tone, he was obviously curious.

            Obrey gave him a slight nod. “I am calling a meeting of the council now to discuss whether or not we should hear what the battle lord proposes.” He faced Yulen. “You will be notified of our decision.”

            Yulen straightened. “Thank you.”

            Obrey answered with another grunt, then pivoted around and walked away. The others who had gathered with him followed in silence.

            Having been dismissed, Yulen turned to face his own men. “Cole, Warren, since you are already knowledgeable of the three laws, inform the men as to what’s expected of them. Then have them erect their tents in ten-yard intervals around the inner perimeter of the compound. In the event something tries to attack us tonight, I want us to be available to help defend these people.”

            “Where do you want Atty’s tent?” Paxton questioned.

            “Right next to the front gates, where everyone can see it.”

            The seconds rushed off to notify the other soldiers. Atty tugged on her husband’s sleeve as the townspeople gradually disbursed.

            “Did you intend on asking them to sign a treaty? Or was it second thought?”

            He gave her a warm smile. “Intend? No. But now that we’re here, why pass up the chance? Besides, if my power of persuasion can’t ally another Mutah compound with us, how successful would I be at the summit?” Sliding an arm about her shoulders, he led her toward the gates. “Come. I told Obrey we would feed the compound tonight. Let’s see how much game we have, or if we’re short.”

            “And if we’re short?” she laughed lightly.

            “Then we’ll have to send out a small hunting party to get more.”

            “Oh, Paas will love hearing that. She’s been itching to get back to tracking.”

            “And you? Are you thinking about joining her?” In truth, he didn’t want her to venture into strange and possibly hostile woods in her condition. But he also knew that if Atty had the desire to go, he couldn’t stop her.

            As if thinking along the same lines, she ran a hand over her tummy. It was almost an unconscious gesture. “Not this time,” she finally answered.

            For now, he could accept that.

Chapter Thirteen

Troublesome

            Atty was aware of the shadow darkening the tent flap, and the hesitancy of the person casting it. She smiled to herself. People who came to the blue and silver tent where she and Yulen rested were often unsure about how to knock to make their presence known. Others, like Paxton and Mastin, were accustomed to calling out to whomever was inside. By the silence outside, she could tell this was the person’s first time to enter.

            “I’m here. Come in,” she called out, and continued stuffing her clothing into the leather case.

            Paas stuck her head in and glanced around. She didn’t try to hide the surprise she felt as she surveyed the interior.

            “Most people just announce themselves,” Atty explained, flashing her friend a warm grin. “What’s on your mind? I’ve been meaning to get with you and chat, but things have been hectic.”

            “I understand,” her friend replied, stepping inside and dropping the flap closed behind her. “I was looking for the sword, but I didn’t spot it.”

            Atty let out a little bark of laughter. “Oh, that. Yulen buries a sword in the dirt in front of the flap to show absolutely no entrance and no interruption. Unless, of course, it’s a dire emergency. And I do mean a
dire
emergency, and not because two merchants are duking it out over the price of potatoes.” Pausing, she added, “If you’re here to see Yulen, he’s already left to check on the men.”

            “I know.” Paas nodded. “Cole’s with him, as he always is. I’ve never known anyone so dedicated to his job and position. Except Warren,” she hastily amended. She gave another glance around the tent. “This is…incredible.”

            Atty chuckled again. “Go ahead. Say what you really think. You won’t be the first person to tell me it’s extravagant. Wieldy. Obtrusive.”

            The bright pink spots appearing on the warrior woman’s face betrayed her. “Well, I wouldn’t exactly use those words.”

            “Believe it or not, this whole tent thing came about when Yulen’s mother used to accompany his father on some of their trips. He had one built for her similar to this one.”

            Paas’ eyes widened. “He used to take her with him on his cleaning missions?” Her remark revealed the fact that Mastin had told her how the battle lord’s life had been prior to him meeting Atty. How much it had changed, compared to now.   

            “No. When they’d go visit other compounds,” Atty clarified, reaching for Yulen’s clothes to add to the satchel. “But Yulen liked the idea and had this tent made for me as a wedding present. At first, it felt strange to sleep in here. I mean, I’m used to sleeping out in the open in a bedroll. But I’ve come to appreciate the privacy it gives us. It also allows us to have company, and to hold small meetings where prying eyes and ears can’t follow.” Closing the case, she dropped onto a pillow to pull on her boots. “Did you need to see me about something?” she reiterated.

            “No. Cole sent me to check to see if you were ready for them to tear down the tent. But…”

            Atty paused. “But?” When Paas appeared reluctant, she motioned for the woman to join her on a pillow. “Trust me. I know the routine. We still have a couple of minutes.”

            Sighing, Paas knelt beside her. “I’ve only been at Alta Novis for a few short months. I’m still getting used to…how different everything is.”

            “Different from your own tribe.” Atty nodded sympathetically. “I can relate. So, is there a problem?” A small worried thread wove itself into her consciousness. “This doesn’t have anything to do with you and Cole, does it?”

            To her relief, Paas shook her head. “No. I knew full well how different my life would be going west. I just didn’t know
how
different.”

            “Different good or different bad? Or a mixture of both?”

            “Both, actually.” The woman appeared to reach a decision. “Atty, how did you manage? How did you cope with the way people treated you because you were…not like them?”

            Atty jerked the laces tight and stared into the woman’s troubled eyes. “What happened, Paas?”

            “Nothing. Nothing happened. It’s how I see people looking at me. How they seem to…”

            “Avoid you?”

            “Yes.”

            Atty gazed at the skin pictures marking her friend’s neck and face. At the black tendrils that appeared to sprout from below Paas’ neckline, to curl up and around her throat and below her ears until they appeared to bud and turn into small, fragile leaves along the curve of her jaws. Between that, the multi-colored streaks in the woman’s hair, and ending with the tiny silver nose ring, those marks, which Paas called tattoos, symbolized her stature within her own tribe. “Have you told Cole about it?” she asked.

            “A little. Not everything, because he wouldn’t understand. Not really. Not the way you would.” Paas cast her eyes at the tent’s ceiling, but her vision was turned inward. “I want to belong,” she finally admitted.

            “And we want you to feel as though you belong,” Atty assured her, leaning over to lay a hand on one of Paas’ that rested on a knee.

            The warrior woman continued. “I see other Mutah moving about the compound. For the most part, they seem happy to be there. I don’t see them being harassed or taunted.”

            A cold flame of anger began to burn inside her. “Is someone harassing or taunting you?”

            “Verbally? No. But I see it in their eyes. On their faces. They look at me and my marks like…”

            The flame shrank. It was becoming clearer to her. “They’re still growing accustomed to the many ways a Mutah can appear. Those like me, we’re easier to accept because we’re not too…unusual. But people like Twoson…”

            “Or that man whose mouth is in his neck instead of on his face.”

            Atty smiled. “Frankston, the tailor. He’s a good man.” She cocked her head. “Paas, do some of us frighten you? Did you see some Mutah whose appearances were, for want of a better word, shocking? Like here?”

            Again, two bright patches of color pinked the woman’s cheeks. “To be honest, yes. Some more than others. But I don’t feel threatened. In fact, I feel pity for them.”

            Atty quickly shook her head. “Don’t. Don’t pity them. Pity only those who are sick and infirmed, the same way you would if someone from your family was ill or injured.”

            Unconsciously, Paas reached up and clasped the tiny amulet she wore around her neck. The pale blue glow from the rock inside it was visible inside the tent.

            “Speaking of Mutah. I’m glad you came by. There was something I needed to talk to you about,” Atty softly commented. It brought Paas back to the present, to give Atty her attention. “Has Cole said anything about your appearance?”

            “He did tell me that some people would look upon me and believe I was Mutah. Is that what you’re asking?”

            “Yes.” Atty bit her lip. “Does that bother you?”

            Surprisingly, her friend brightly smiled and shook her head. “No. Should it?”

            “The people of Alta Novis know who you are, but those outside of the compound don’t. You need to be aware that it could present a problem during this trip.”

            “A problem for you or for me?” Paas dropped a hand to the knife she kept sheathed on her hip.

            Atty snorted. “A problem for the poor bastard who tries to cross you. Come on. Let’s get out of here before the men try to take down this tent with us inside it.”

            Paas laughed, and the two women hurried to join the others already waiting for them with their horses.

            Yulen glanced up from where he was checking the cinch on his saddle. His eyes danced from the figure going over to Mastin, then back to her. “Everything all right?”

            “Yep. Just sharing some girl talk.”