The Battle Lord's Lady (10 page)

Karv closed his eyes and nodded painfully. He
knew too well the Battle Lord’s promises were never given lightly.
“Mutah lover,” he mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?”

“I said...Mutah lover,” the Second repeated.
The man didn’t fear another devastating blow. He was already too
damaged, but also too valuable an aide and ally, to risk any more
harm. But instead of a sharp retort he probably expected, he
watched in silent surprise as the Battle Lord strode away without
replying.

Closer to where he’d tethered his own horse,
Yulen found the physician. The man had placed his burden under the
cooler shade of a tree, and was busy changing the bloody bandages.
The Battle Lord winced at the sight of the girl’s ravaged face,
then berated himself silently for his reaction. He’d seen the worst
life had to throw at him, from brutalized corpses to the horrors of
living torture on man and Mutah alike. Why would the torn and
bleeding face of one girl affect him like this?

“I reset her nose,” MaGrath informed him.
“She stirred once but didn’t awaken.”

“Has she said anything?” Even in the light of
day, it was impossible for Yulen to see the true color of her hair,
what with the bandages wrapped around her face and head. He bit his
lip to hide his disappointment.

The physician shook his head. “Nothing
notable. Just incoherent ramblings. Yulen, she could have some
brain damage.”

“Damn. How will you know for certain?”

“I won’t until she comes out of
this,
if
she comes out of
it.”

“When she does, send word.”

MaGrath nodded, then gestured for the man to
lean closer to where he knelt. “Let me look at that,” he ordered in
a no-nonsense voice.

Yulen dutifully leaned close enough for the
man to examine the wound in his face. He heard the heavy sigh come
from the physician.

“Do you realize how lucky you were that that
bird wasn’t diseased? Or that it didn’t take out your eye in the
attack?”

“Don’t you think I haven’t dwelled on that
myself?” Yulen said.

“Does it still pain you? I have more powders
if you need them.”

Yulen held up a hand to show he declined the
offer. “I’ll let you know when and if I need more of your
foul-tasting pain killer.” He tried to grin, but the creasing of
his face brought forth a spasm of fire that settled in his eyes.
“It only hurts when I smile,” the man relented.

“So I guess you won’t be smiling for a long
while?” MaGrath teased gently.

“What’s worth smiling about?” the Battle Lord
gruffly countered.

“What indeed?” the physician countered, and
looked down at the unconscious form at his feet.

The Battle Lord knew MaGrath had caught the
expression on his face while he redressed her wounds. It wasn’t
like him to flinch. In fact, he couldn’t remember if the physician
had ever seen the Battle Lord flinch at anything.

Their noon meal was over within the hour, and
everyone was saddled and heading back south when Mastin approached
the Battle Lord.

“Sir, if I may.”

“What is it?” Yulen inquired. It was going to
be a pleasant day. Although the sun was shining bright and
merciless overhead, the weather remained cold. Tonight, however,
there was the chance of more snow, which would turn the ground into
a muddy, sucking swamp in places if they weren’t careful.

“Sir, the men are questioning your
motives.”

“My motives?” The Battle Lord shot his new
Second a suspicious look, but Mastin refused to back down.

“We’ve never taken prisoners before, sir.
We’ve never left behind a compound full of Mutah before, either.
They’re wondering what your motives are.”

“Do they know what happened to our advance
party before we entered the compound?”

“Yes, sir. They know they were attacked by a
party of Mutah, who almost killed all of our men—”

“Not a party,” Yulen quickly corrected
him.

“Sir?”

Yulen glanced back at the young soldier. “I
said...it was not a party of Mutah who attacked and killed sixteen
of our men. There was only one.” He held up an index finger for
emphasis. “One Mutah.”

Mastin swallowed hard.
“
One?
” At the Battle Lord’s
nod, he added, “The girl?” Another nod. “With just a bow?” Again,
the nod. “Sooo...we’re taking her back home because of her
skill?”

Somehow Yulen managed a small grin without
too much pain. “Does that surprise you?”

“No. Well, yes. What do you plan to do with
her?”

“I made a deal with her. If she would train
my men how to acquire such skill with their bows, I would spare her
compound.” He glanced quickly at the man riding beside him, hoping
to catch his immediate reaction.

“So, you bargained their lives for her
servitude?”

“Correct.”

“But what if she had turned you down?”

Yulen made a face. “You already know the
answer to that.”

“But what if another Battle Lord comes along
and razes her compound? What if Syrus Collaunt discovers it?”

“That will always be a possibility. But
I promised her
I
would not
bring harm to her people. As long as I keep my word, she’ll
comply.”

“And then what will you do once she’s taught
us everything she knows? Will you let her go back to her
compound?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” Yulen
admitted. These past few hours he’d gone solely on gut instinct. He
hoped the days’ ride back to Alta Novis would give him a clearer
sense of direction. He noticed Mastin’s glance backwards.
“What?”

“What about Karv? Verris and I—”

“Where is Verris?” the Battle Lord asked,
referring to the only other man he’d tapped to replace Karv,
besides Mastin.

“Riding with Karv, as you ordered,” Mastin
reminded him. One would always remain with the defaced Second until
they reached the compound, as per orders.

“What I plan to do with Karv is none of your
concern,” Yulen snapped suddenly. Kneeing his horse, he jumped
ahead of the line to check the trail. The advance guard he’d sent
before them had yet to return to let them know of any possible
danger. Thinking back, Yulen realized it had been a good hour or
more since Betts had left. He raised his hand, signaling a halt to
their progress.

Mastin hurried to catch up. Before he could
question his leader’s actions, Yulen whispered gruffly, “Fetch me
three swords.”

There was not a sound coming from the trees.
For the past few minutes all sounds had ceased, and Yulen cursed
himself for his inattention. Not even a bird flew overhead.

The Second galloped away to bring back three
men armed with swords. Once, many, many years ago, there had been
guns and all manner of weapons which relied upon explosive charges
and gunpowder. But those weapons quickly became obsolete as
ammunition, the materials to make ammunition, and the knowledge and
ability to make the ammunition and more such weapons was lost or
disappeared. Yulen had seen a gun once, a long time ago, but he had
never held one, much less fired it. People had reverted back to the
ways of their ancestors, using swords and bows and other such
weapons from their history, which proved easier to make and
use.

The same loss of technology also proved fatal
for cars. And electricity. And telephones. Gone, all gone more than
three hundred years ago.

Yulen dismounted, motioning for the others to
do as well as he pulled his own sword from its sheath. Mastin slid
off his horse and joined them. Slowly, carefully, they advanced
toward the small rise and disappeared over the crest.

* * * *

MaGrath felt the girl stirring in his arms,
but it wasn’t until she let out a low moan that he gently covered
her mouth with his hand. At his touch, the girl froze and, like a
true hunter, tried to assess her surroundings first before making
another move. Realizing what she was doing, the physician leaned
down to breathe in her ear, “No noise.”

He could tell she was in great pain. It
clouded her eyes and made her whole body tremble. He needed to give
her some more painkillers, but that would mean getting off the
horse and digging through the satchel tied to the back of the
saddle. Silently he cursed himself for not thinking ahead and
stashing some in his coat pocket.

A cold hand reached up to remove his hand
from her lips. Lifting her bandaged face, Atty waited until he
lowered his ear so she could barely whisper, “Why...stop?”

“Yulen called a halt. I don’t know why. He’s
gone over the ridge with a small platoon to check things out,” he
replied into her ear on the lesser damaged side of her face. “As
soon as he returns, I’ll give you some more painkiller.”

Atty shivered again, blinking against the
bright sunlight and the agony which enveloped her whole body,
especially her face. She tried to look around, but everything would
be coated in that unreal fogginess. “South.”

MaGrath nodded. Despite her confusion, she
probably recognized the area and saw they were heading south,
toward the Battle Lord’s domain. She weakly tugged on the
physician’s sleeve. “Cats,” she tried to warn him.
“Feral...cats.”

MaGrath gave her a disbelieving stare. “But
ferals don’t attack people,” he tried to argue.

Atty licked her cracked and swollen lips,
tasting the dried blood. “Trust me.”

Immediately, MaGrath looked up and signaled
to a nearby soldier. The man reined over. “Go to the Battle Lord
and tell him feral cats hunt in this area. Go now!”

“But ferals don’t attack—”

“
Obey
me!” the physician hissed. In a world hardly recovered from
the Great Concussion, next to the Battle Lord, among those obeyed
without question and held in the highest regard were those skilled
in the medicinal arts.

The soldier slid off his mount and hurried to
catch up with the others, bearing his news. Several minutes passed.
Distantly they could hear the clash of weapons but no screaming. No
roars or hisses to let the rest of the caravan know what the Battle
Lord and his men were facing. Once a few of the horses in the back
of the line got spooked and reared, but they were quickly
calmed.

It was nearly half an hour later when all six
men walked back over the ridge to rejoin the line. MaGrath let out
a sigh of relief to see them all walking normally, and none holding
onto an arm or other body part that had been injured. But as they
drew closer, it was evident they had been involved in a skirmish.
Great gouts of blood coated their armor and dripped off their
weapons.

Without a word, Yulen wiped his sword in a
patch of snow before sheathing it, remounted his horse, and waved
them forward. As the line progressed toward the rise, MaGrath
watched as the Battle Lord remained to one side until they were
nearly even.

“Question, Liam. How’d you know there were
ferals stalking us?” Yulen asked when they were within earshot of
each other.

“I didn’t. She did,” MaGrath admitted and
looked down to notice the warrior girl had succumbed again to
sleep.

Yulen’s eyes narrowed. “She was awake?”

“And speaking,” the physician admitted.

“What? What did she say?”

“Less than a dozen words, Yulen. She asked
why we’d stop, and then told me there were feral cats in the
area...not in those exact words, mind you. But what she said was
enough for me to send Boiseman to tell you.”

“Then she’s going to be okay?”

“So far as I can tell. She needs more pain
medicine.”

“We’ll be camping near the lake tonight. But
if she awakens before then, let me know.”

“I will,” MaGrath promised.

They topped the rise and traveled down into a
small valley surrounded by high walls. Another hundred yards down
the road lay the remains of the two ferals who had been stalking
their party. The huge pair, obvious mates, must have put up quite a
fight, if the pools of blood were any indication. The gray and
white striped male alone had to have weighed a good six or seven
hundred pounds. The smaller black and white female had distended
teats, meaning there had to be a den somewhere near.

MaGrath shuddered. That was what the warrior
girl had been trying to warn them about. Ferals normally avoided
humans, but this pair was defending their kittens. They also needed
to provide their family with fresh meat. That explained the
terrifying silence as the Ferals stalked their prey.

The physician shook his head. How had
she known? Even in her severely injured state, she had managed to
outsmart them all.
No,
he
quickly corrected himself.
She had saved
them all.

Chapter Eleven

Lake

They didn’t reach the lake until just after
sundown. There was a large, dilapidated stone building around the
northeast shore that would provide his men enough cover in the
event something tried to attack them from the forest. The lake
itself was fresh water, and everyone refilled their skin sacks as
the horses were allowed their freedom to graze on long tethers.

Yulen walked among his men, keeping himself
open and available to the soldiers who willingly risked their lives
under his banner. He knew all of them by name, including the names
of their wives or sweethearts and children. He often took time like
this to offer suggestions or praise to them, and it was clear that
by that evening what he had told Mastin about his motive for
bringing along the Mutah woman had made its way among the ranks.
Secretly he was glad to see no overt ill response from the men for
his decision. In fact, he also let them know that the warrior girl
had also been the one to warn them of the feral cats that had
attacked them on the highway. If he planned to have them take
orders from someone who normally would be their enemy, he knew he
first had to get them to trust her.