One Battle Lord’s Fate (23 page)

Janelle nodded. “You’re right. Your word is law. But you didn’t conquer this compound fairly, and I have a feeling that little fact is going to come around and bite you squarely on the butt.”

Her remark got a chuckle out of him. “How do you figure that? Because you expect D’Jacques to return and challenge me to a fair duel? How can he?”

A loud rattling from the main double doors interrupted them. A soldier stood there, clearly agitated as he saluted. “My apologies for barging in, Sir, but we’re under attack.”

Rafe jumped to his feet. “By who? D’Jacques?”

The soldier’s eyes widen. “Who? No, Sir! By creatures! By hideous-looking monsters!”

“Mother, stay here,” Rafe ordered and followed his man outside. Janelle paused in the doorway where she could hear the sounds of battle already filling the air, but it was not like any struggle she’d heard before. There were ear-splitting screeches, and screams that could not have come from human throats. Closing the door, she bolted it from the inside. Turning to hurry to her room, she glanced over at the wall of polished weapons, and realized for the first time that someone was keeping them cleaned and oiled, and probably sharpened.

“What I wouldn’t give to have one of those right now.”

A bright flash of light caught her attention. Swiftly, she rushed over to the chair and pulled the dagger from the arm. It wouldn’t afford much in the way of protection, but it was something.

She turned to leave, when she noticed the big empty spot on the wall above the fireplace. It was then she realized that Rafe hadn’t been staring into the fire. He had been studying the bare section above it.

A quick glance around didn’t reveal any other open area. In fact, the walls were nearly filled to capacity with weaponry. Squinting, she moved closer to see if she could make out what might have been there. A faint outline barely hinted of a bow and cross, and a small quiver. A crossbow had sat there until recently.

“Why would Rafe be interested in an old crossbow?” she wondered aloud. A muffled scream right outside the door reminded her of the danger. Picking up her skirts, she fled upstairs and locked herself inside her room.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Fire

“Sir, the Bloods are attacking Alta Novis!”

Yulen and the others rushed out of the tent where the reconnaissance party had just returned. “Bogram, report!”

The soldier slid off his horse and saluted. “An army of perhaps three to four hundred Bloods are attacking the compound, Sir. It was a sudden rush, the kind we’ve seen before.”

“From which end?”

“The north, Sir. But they’re stretched out all the way to the end of the second courtyard.”

“How are defenses holding up?”

“Well, from what we can tell. Our men are handling the brunt of it. The other soldiers, they look ill-trained. Sir, it doesn’t appear as if D’Jacques’ men have had any prior contact with Bloods.”

“It’s possible.” Batuset stopped next to Yulen. “As far south as Alta Seran is, it’s very likely Bloods haven’t migrated that far yet.”

“Sir?”

Yulen turned to see Renken standing a few feet away. “What?”

“Mind a suggestion?”

“Depends on the suggestion.”

The ex-mercenary bent down and picked up a handful of leaves and twigs. Tossing them into the air, he commented, “Wind’s from the north. Bloods are attacking from the north. What if we went in behind them?”

Yulen nodded. “A squeeze play might work, but that would mean they’d be downwind from us. Those creatures could smell us coming.”

“Not if you clogged their noses with smoke.”

“It might work,” Batuset agreed. “This past winter’s left a lot of dead limbs and brush in its wake. The weather’s been dry up until recently.”

“Are you suggesting setting fire to the forest?” Paxton asked.

“Not to the forest, but close to the tree line.” Renken drew a semi-circle with his forefinger. “Set the fire directly behind them.”

“The field between the tree line and the compound’s wall is nothing but dry and brittle grass. Without the spring rains, it hasn’t had time to green up,” Gaines noted.

Yulen looked to the east. “But it could work. The wind would send the smoke toward the Bloods. It would put them in a bind. Maybe even split their forces. If that happened, they would be easier to trap between us and the compound, and easier to defeat. Paxton, Volcheck, have the men mounted and ready to leave in ten.”

The two Seconds rushed off to prepare the forces. Batuset sent his own Second to do the same with the soldiers he’d brought from Foster City. Within the allotted time, the soldiers were assembled in ranks and ready to go.

Yulen swung up into his saddle as MaGrath ran up. “Bloods are attacking the compound. D’Jacques’ men won’t be able to hold them, and my men are seriously outnumbered. We’ve devised a plan to start a fire in the woods surrounding the walls. Once the Bloods are sandwiched in, we’ll press our advantage.”

“What if the fire hits the compound walls?”

Yulen grinned. “Guess we’ll be dealing with some crispy critters.”

“Take care, Yulen.” The physician patted his knee. “Try to leave something for your son to inherit.”

“After today, he’ll have three compounds to select from.” The Battle Lord turned his horse around and galloped off before MaGrath could ask what three compounds. But after thinking about it for a while, he knew.

* * *

“We’re under attack.”

Tory nearly dropped the knife she was using to chop vegetables, and glanced up to see Atty open the front door. Even in the kitchen she could hears the screams and yells coming from the compound’s walls.

Fortune hurried from the bedroom. He wore his hunting gear, including his belt of knives running diagonally across his chest. He also wore a bow and quiver of arrows. In his hand was the crossbow and quiver of short arrows, which he handed to Atty.

“Are you sure you can manage one-handed?”

“I’ll manage.”

“Atty, even for a Mutah, you haven’t had much time to recover,” Tory said.

“I can’t stay here and watch my compound being overrun by Bloods.”

“Then don’t try to take them all on by yourself,” Fortune told her. “Let your goal not be how many Bloods you can take out, but surviving so you can get back with your husband and son.” He glanced back at his wife. “I’ll watch over her. Bar the door behind us. If worse comes to worse, get up into the attic. You can reach the roof from there.”

Atty and Fortune slipped out of the house and hurried between the rows of houses and shops, toward the nearest compound wall. None of Rafe D’Jacques soldiers who saw them tried to challenge them, even when they saw weapons in their hands. To them, a couple of townspeople with weapons were an advantage.

“The fighting appears more intense along the north wall,” Atty observed.

Fortune pointed to a ladder several feet away. “Let’s get up on top so we can get a better view of what’s happening.”

Taking the crossbow from her, he let her climb up the ladder first, then followed her up to the catwalk. Before they reached the top, they could smell the sickening stench given off by the Blood army.

Atty took the crossbow and set it on top of the wall. Fortune watched as over the next half hour she methodically picked off Bloods who came within reach of her arrows. Between the two of them, they took a toll on the enemy. Several soldiers spotted her, but were unsure what to make of the black-haired woman with the incredible aim, and the man who was with her.

A one point, a couple of men paused as they hurried down the parapet. Fortune recognized them as Yulen’s men. They stared at Atty, then at Fortune. One started to approach when Fortune emphatically shook his head. The soldier immediately stopped, nodded slightly, and turned to leave. But at that point, Fortune knew word would fly about Atty’s appearance on the wall.

“Do you smell that?” Atty whispered.

Fortune froze, every nerve alert as his body switched to hunter’s mode. Atty was staring north. He turned to find what she was focusing on.

In the distance, past the tree line, a thin gray cloud rose into the air. Further down, a longer stream floated above the tree tops. The smell blowing their way was unmistakable, even above the corrupted reek.

“Smoke.” He glanced at Atty. “Campfires?”

“Who sets campfires in a straight line nearly two hundred yards long?”

He looked back at the smoke, now rising like a great gray-black wall behind the Blood army. Here and there, flames could be seen flickering between the trees. The enemy was beginning to notice the fires. Many of them backed away from trying to scale the compound’s wall. Their hesitation cost them as Yulen’s archers, personally trained by Atty, picked them off.

“The tide’s beginning to turn,” Fortune commented matter-of-factly.

She fired an arrow, taking out a Blood through the ear. “Thanks to whoever is setting that fire.”

“Maybe the Mutah?”

Atty suddenly stiffened. Her eyes widened, and a look of pure joy came over her.

“Yulen,” she whispered. “Yulen?” she said louder, almost shouting.

Fortune peered in the direction where Atty was looking. There was movement beyond the trees. A handful of soldiers advanced past the tree line and crouched, spears at ready. More soldiers appeared on horseback behind them. Even at this distance, he could see the rear of each saddle bore the half blue, half red banner representing Alta Novis.

Fortune started to ask if she could see the Battle Lord, when Atty swung the crossbow over one shoulder and started to descend the ladder, moving as quickly as she could with one good hand. He pivoted around and looked back over the wall. Just behind the soldiers, a figure came into view. A figure with golden red hair, and riding a pale horse.

Twenty feet away, one of the small doors used by people to come and go from the compound flew open. He watched as Atty stepped through and straightened up. A Blood also saw her exit, and started toward her as she secured the door shut, a rock clutched in its upraised fur-covered hand. Atty started to lift the crossbow when an arrow caught the creature in the neck and disappeared down inside its body, until only the fletchings were visible. Atty glanced up at Fortune and gave a little salute. Then she turned and started running toward figure on horseback.

“Yulen!”

Fortune watched as she stumbled across the field. The fire was gathering strength, forming a nearly solid line of flames between the compound and the forest. Yet, she managed to zigzag her way, finding those small spots where there was an opening.

More Bloods tried to attack her, but they were quickly dispatched with an arrow by him or by one of Yulen’s men. Several seconds passed as the Battle Lord watched the lone figure running toward him, struggling to reach him. A figure with ebony hair who continued to call out his name, that was carried by the wind and smoke and heat over the compound walls. It took the man several seconds to recognize who she was. When he did, he slid off the horse and started running toward her. He caught her just as she reached the tree line and collapsed in his arms.

Fortune wiped the tears from his eyes as the couple embraced. When Yulen lifted his wife into his arms and vanished back into the trees, the hunter started down the ladder to go home.

The Bloods were milling about in confusion, breaking from the main pack and running away as the fire in the forest intensified. The soldiers on the wall were picking them off, and not necessarily paying attention to who was up on the catwalk with them. Eventually, the mutants would reassemble. Whoever was leading them would determine whether or not to attack again. But in the meantime, Fortune could rest easy knowing Atty and Yulen were back together.

Elsewhere, circumstances were about to come to a head.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Devious

Fortune remembered climbing down the ladder to go back to his home when two of Rafe D’Jacques' men accosted him. They never said a word. He barely had stepped off the last rung when both men attacked, using the hilt and pommel of their swords to beat him into unconsciousness.

He had no idea how long he was out, but he was very aware of where he woke up. He was suspended from a crossbeam between the two front legs of the bell tower. His arms were tied above his head, the thick ropes already cutting into his wrists, as evidenced by the trickles of blood running down his arms.

His head continued to pound. His arms felt like they were being pulled from the sockets. Standing on tiptoe helped somewhat to ease the strain, but the moment he tried to stand normally, the agony in his shoulders and back increased.

“Good people of Alta Novis! Take a good look at your enemy! At my enemy! This creature who calls himself a man was up on the walls, firing arrows at our soldiers! Killing our protectors! Allowing those repugnant creatures a better chance at gaining access to our homes and families! He was in league with those hideous monsters!”

Fortune shook his head to clear his vision. Several feet away, Rafe D’Jacques paced back and forth as he addressed the growing crowd in the courtyard. The Battle Lord dramatically pointed a finger at him as he worked the people into a frenzy.

“This Mutah, whom you allowed into this compound, is not like us! He’ll never be like us! He only came to this compound to trick you into thinking he was your friend, when in truth, he is an agent for those unholy mutants screaming at our gates! He is a spy, and thus, he will be treated as a spy!”

A few voices cheered D’Jacques, but the rest of the people remained silent. Their eyes went from the Battle Lord, to Fortune, and back to their new leader. Fortune shook his head.

“You’re full of shit, D’Jacques, and they know it!”

His comment earned him a stunning slap to the side of the head with a gloved hand. Gritting his teeth, he rode the pain as he tried to catch what other lies D’Jacques spewed. But the man had made his speech. What would come next would be his method for dealing with Fortune.

A hand grabbed his tail, yanking it viciously. Too late, Fortune realized he’d forgotten to wrap it around his waist, hiding it from sight. No wonder D’Jacques’ men were able to single him out.

“This Mutah is and always will be our enemy! I say, death to all Mutah! The only good Mutah is a dead Mutah!”

“I was fighting the Bloods,” he called out. “If I was a threat to you and your men, why was I on the wall helping them fight the enemy?”

D’Jacques moved closer. “I have witnesses who saw you kill two of my men with your arrows. You and whoever that black-haired woman was accompanying you.”

It was almost too funny to watch D’Jacques eyes widen to the size of apples as the man suddenly realized what he’d said.

“The black-haired woman! She was the Mutah bitch!”

Fury burned his face red. The cords in his neck stood out as he drew his sword.

Fortune winced. This would be his end. His death. The man either planned to run him through, or cut off his head. Either way, his corpse would remain tied to the bell as a reminder of what D’Jacques planned for all Mutah.

He scanned the crowd, desperately searching for Tory’s beloved face.
One last time,
he prayed silently.
Please. Let me see her face one last time.

D’Jacques strode over to the tower, bent over, and grabbed Fortune’s tail. Swinging him around, Rafe held it up. “This Mutah wants to be Normal? He wants us to believe he can be like us? Then let us accommodate him!”

The man raised his sword, and with one hard whack, severed several inches of the tail from Fortune’s body. Fortune screamed as fire and pain raced up his spine before spreading out to the rest of his body. And the agony didn’t stop. The leftover stump spewed blood all over Fortune’s legs and buttocks, as well as the ground beneath him. Several people shrieked at the dismemberment. The crowd, as a whole, gasped in shock.

Standing to the side, D’Jacques smiled. He held aloft the nearly foot-long portion he’d cut off for all to see.

“When I became your Battle Lord, I made the decree that all Mutah should leave this compound immediately, or else face death. This creature did not heed my warning. As a result, this will be his penalty and method of death. Today I have taken that which marked him as Mutah. Tomorrow, I will cut off another body part. And then a third body part the day after tomorrow. I will not stop until this Mutah has been severed into several pieces, and the only thing left of him are his arms suspended from the bell tower.”

Tossing the tail onto the ground, he ordered one of his men to nail it to the post beside Fortune. Then he left the gathering to disappear into the main lodge.