The Battle Lord Saga 02 - Her Battle Lord's Desire (21 page)

reamed her out for skipping.”

“Let me guess. She’d rather be out in the woods instead of in a classroom,” Yulen

chuckled.

“For a man who’s only been married to her for less than six months, you got her pegged.

Hey, Fussun! How’s it going?”

They rounded a corner of the narrow street that housed various shops and markets. It

was like penetrating an invisible wall when the scent of the roasting elk washed over them. The

smell reminded Yulen he’d had very little to eat that day, and dark memories of the past rose

unbidden to haunt him. Gritting his teeth, he squelched them and concentrated on the present.

The tables used to feed the troops were draped now with colorful fabrics. More such

fabrics had been braided over lengths of rope that stretched from tree to tree like a canopy of

rainbow colors. There were bowls of the fruit Atty had ordered packed on the wagons, and the

women were placing loaves of freshly baked bread on side serving tables nearby.

Just beyond where the elk was roasting in the pit in the ground, a bonfire had been built

with old tree branches and deadwood. Someone was carefully dousing it with something to make

it burn hot and quick.

The air was festive with celebration. The Bloods were gone. Game had returned to the

area. And a new alliance was being formed between Mutah and Normals. There was much to

rejoice about.

“Why do I get the feeling this shindig is going to make whatever Alta Novis puts on look

like a child’s slumber party?” a voice commented as it approached him.

“First the trophies, and now this. Kind of makes you realize how much we’re alike, and

yet how very different,” Yulen said solemnly.

MaGrath nodded. “Earlier I overhead one of our men commenting to another. Something

along the lines of, ‘You know, after a while, you no longer see their mark.’ I have to admit, he’s

right. You no longer see what they’re like on the outside. And, get this, Yulen, sometimes their

mark is to their benefit.”

He agreed with the physician. “How many times have you wished you had an extra hand,

or a super strong grip, or better hearing? These people have that. And more.”

“So, tell me again why we were taught to slaughter them?”

Yulen gave his friend a regretful look before turning back to watch the activities. “Have

you seen Atty?” he asked after a while, hoping it would sound less anxious than he felt.

Unfortunately, MaGrath knew him better than that. “Last time I saw her, she was heading

toward the tent.” He sighed and stretched his arms over his head. “Rumors say there’s going to

be some potent brew being served tonight, and I personally am going to make sure I thoroughly

investigate its veracity.”

Unable to hold back his laughter, Yulen clapped a hand to the man’s shoulder. “Good

heavens, I can’t remember when was the last time I saw you in your cups! This should prove to

be an interesting night!”

He never saw MaGrath’s knowing smile in response. “Oh, I quite agree. It’s going to be

a
very
interesting night!”

Yulen excused himself to head over to the tent. For once he was at a loss as to what he

needed to do, if anything. The festivities were out of his hands, something he’d hadn’t planned or

made allowances for. At first he’d been confused and a bit leery when he’d heard the news. It

soon became apparent that such an informal get-together between his men and the citizens of

Wallis was the perfect solution to help defray the tensions still lingering between them. Good

food and good drink, combined with music and merriment, would do much to strengthen the ties

between them.

Belatedly, the Battle Lord realized the last time Alta Novis had done anything similar in

celebration was after MaGrath’s and Madigan’s wedding, and that had been four months ago.

Well, the holidays would be here before they knew it, and Yulen promised himself there would be

enough celebrating then to make up for it.

He had almost reached the tent when Atty stepped through the door flap, into the open.

Seeing her, he skidded to a stop in surprise.

She was wearing a simple gown in a soft gray color. It was long-sleeved, to protect her

against the chilly evening wind, and it cut in around her waist and hips to flatter her curves. The

front dipped low to where he could see her cleavage, but not as deeply as the presentation gown

she’d worn yesterday. She’d left her hair loose, and in the evening lantern light the circlet of

silver around her forehead glittered. He caught the faint scent of soap, letting him know she had

already bathed.

She smiled at him, equally surprised. “Hi! Calling it a day already?”

“Have to when the people you’re working with just get up and leave. You look radiant,

Atty.” He started to go inside the tent, pausing when he realized she wasn’t following him. He

gave her a questioning, almost hurt look.

“I promised Tory to help her with the meal,” Atty answered apologetically. She reached

out to take his hand and give it a squeeze. “I’ll join you when it’s time to eat. Promise. Save me

a seat.”

He remained by the doorway, staring at her. In the distance they could hear the laughing

and shouting of people, and the tentative strains of musical instruments warming up for the night’s

festivities. It was almost dark. Overhead the broken moon peeked above the treetops.

“I’ll promise you a seat, as long as you remember
your
promise,” he whispered, his throat

suddenly becoming tight with expectation. To emphasize his words, he held onto her fingers.

Slowly, he raised her hand to his lips, turning over the palm, and seductively kissed the sensitive

skin in the center, trailing his mouth up to her wrist, all the while never taking his eyes from her

face. Even in the low light of the coming evening he could see the color rise to her cheeks.

Atty trembled before taking the two steps toward him that closed the gap. Readily she

lifted her face for his kiss, knowing the power he had over her but no longer caring. Tonight

would be their foreplay. They had the entire evening to enjoy themselves, enjoy the celebration

with its merriment and surprises, and later, to enjoy rediscovering each other’s bodies in what

they knew would be hours of exhaustive lovemaking.

Yulen reached up with his free hand and cupped her cheek, holding her face hostage as he

delved into the moistness of her mouth. Their tongues tangled before gently stroking each other,

tips teasing, sexually taunting. She was soft clay, ready to be molded and shaped with his hands

and his body. He felt her arms start to reach around his neck when a throat cleared itself a few

yards away. This time it was Atty who threw her head back and cried out softly in exasperation.

“Cole!”

“Yes, Madam?” came the stoic reply.

“Perhaps my husband has failed to
fully
explain to you the duties of a Second.”

Mastin paused. “No, Madam,” he said.

Yulen chuckled, trying to keep from laughing out loud. “What is it this time?” he asked

the young man. “Are you here at MaGrath’s command?” he added.

“No, sir. Councilman Pike has asked if you and the Battle Lady would join him and his

family tonight for the feast.”

“Tell him we would be honored. Oh, and make sure we’re saved four seats.”

“Four, Sir?”

Yulen grinned. “For myself, Atty, Liam, and yourself, unless you plan to join the men at

their tables, which you have my permission to do.”

Mastin beamed. “Thank you, sir. I would be honored to be part of your company.”

“Yulen, I need to be going,” Atty reminded her husband. She gave him a perfunctory kiss

before tossing a “See you later, Cole!” to the soldier as she hurried away.

When he was certain she was out of earshot, the Battle Lord turned back to his Second.

Doing his best to sound stern, yet still manage to hide his amusement, he told the young man,

“Cole, at some point this evening Atty and I might wander off for some time alone. When we do,

unless there’s a major or cataclysmic event occurring, I had better not
see
you, or
hear
you within a hundred yards of us. Because if I do, and your excuse doesn’t fit my criteria, I will personally

bust you down to kitchen help the moment we arrive back at Alta Novis. Am I clear?”

“Perfectly, sir,” the paled young man responded.

“Good. Now, you’re officially dismissed from duty for the rest of the evening. Enjoy

yourself, Cole. That’s an order.”

“Thank you, sir,” the Second replied rather stiffly, leaving Yulen to himself as he quickly

strode away to find Pike and relay the Battle Lord’s answer.

Mastin was still green around the edges, Yulen realized, but the man’s dedication and

courage was unmatched. Given time, the Second would become a superb commander. In the

meantime, he needed guidance and a few lessons in discretion.

Secretly, Yulen knew the man was probably a little in love with his wife. It was a fact he

suspected in about half of the men who soldiered under his command. Maybe more in the number

who had volunteered to come with them to Wallis. Oddly, it didn’t bother him. He had no

doubts about Atty’s fidelity, even when she unconsciously flirted with the men. And while she

sometimes showed a preference for Mastin and Paxton, and one or two others, he knew there

would always be just one man in her life who could both heat her blood and cool it at the same

time.

Smiling to himself, Yulen ducked into the tent for a quick bath and a change of clothes.

When he emerged a short while later, it had grown pitch black. The surrounding forest was quick

to envelope the smaller compound in secrecy and darkness. He had learned that was part of the

success and longevity of the Mutah compounds—remaining far off the usual pathways, keeping

the compounds small as to escape easy detection, and letting the woods help provide camouflage.

Unfortunately, those very points, which aided the compounds in avoiding the yearly

sweeps in the past by Normals, had proven to be detrimental against invasions by the Bloods. Or

by the Cleaners, when finally discovered. Yulen hoped that with his suggestions those points

would no longer be detrimental, and help to turn the compound’s weaknesses into strengths.

Thankfully the Council of Elders had recognized their liabilities and agreed with the Battle Lord,

in most part, with many of his suggestions for improvements. There still remained one or two

sore spots he needed to broach lightly, or maybe not bring up again until future visits to the

compound, but those were issues he didn’t need to dwell on tonight.

No, tonight was destined for discovery. Excitement. Merriment.

And love.

The music had already started when Yulen reached the center of the courtyard where the

women were beginning to serve the people taking their seats at the tables. To his trained eye he

could already tell his soldiers were sticking close together, although here and there some were

mingling with the citizenry.

Most of the Wallis inhabitants were taking their places in family groups. Hearing his name

being hailed, he quickly found Twoson Pike and his wife already being served, along with

MaGrath and Mastin. However, Atty had yet to join them.

As if reading his mind, MaGrath commented, “She said she’d be right back. She’s

bringing your dishes herself.”

“Have some bread, D’Jacques. My wife, Vallina, made it herself. Honey, have you met

the Battle Lord?” Twoson conducted the brief introductions, and Yulen took a seat across from

the Mutah family, next to Mastin, who had also begun eating.

“All right, I hate to have to bring up business, but this is the first chance we’ve had to be

alone for me to ask you,” Yulen inquired of the Councilman. “How well do you think the rest of

the Elders are taking my suggestions?”

Twoson nodded as he dove into his overloaded trencher. “With the exception of the duty

rosters and the locations of some of the outlying buildings, pretty damn good. But that’s just my

opinion.”

“And George? I have a feeling he may try to sway some of the leaders once I leave.”

“That’s a possibility, but I seriously doubt he’ll have much luck. We are a peaceful

people, but we’re not fighters. That’s the job of our caste. But you’ve probably already learned

that Atty’s a better hunter than a warrior. She’s extraordinary with a weapon in her hands, but

when it comes to hand-to-hand combat, she’s nowhere as accomplished as you and your men are.

Same goes for our own men. I think deep down we’ve prayed for a truce between our peoples.

We just never believed we’d have one within our lifetime, or so quickly after—” Twoson stopped

in mid-sentence to stare at the Battle Lord.

So quickly after your men came and attacked Wallis,
was the unspoken phrase the man

had begun to say.
So quickly after your men killed our people, then you kidnapped Atty.

As flustered as the Councilman was over his near mistake, Yulen could feel the heat of his

own emotions rising into his face. He was about to comment when MaGrath looked over his

shoulder and pointed with his knife.

“Speak of the devil.”

Turning around in his seat, Yulen watched as Atty arrived at their table, bearing two