The Battle Lord's Lady (48 page)

Renken had to come see if any of the stories
regarding D’Jacques and his Mutah wife were true. Because if there
was even one tiny iota of truth to them, this was where he wanted
to stay. He wanted his name, and his legacy, to be linked with
theirs.

Atrilan. Her name is Atrilan, but everyone
calls her Atty.

“Ho, stranger,” one of the soldiers at the
end of the table greeted him.

Renken glanced down to where the four men
sat, enjoying tankards of warm cider. Despite the fact they wore
full weapon belts, their attire was casual, making it difficult to
tell rank. He nodded, mouth full.

“Getting cold enough out there for you?” the
soldier continued. He appeared older than the other three, and more
than likely was one of the seasoned veterans. He would be able to
answer Renken’s answers about the Battle Lord and his Lady, if the
man was affable enough.

“It’s gonna get colder,” Renken answered,
taking a swig from his mug. “By the way, the name’s Renken.”
Motioning toward the armament covering the walls, he commented, “Is
all that for show? Or does it ever get used?”

The knot of men chuckled. “It gets used, but
not in war. The Battle Lady likes to keep her skills honed by
learning on them,” one of them commented.

Renken smiled inwardly. The man had opened
the door he’d been hoping he would be allowed to enter, and it had
been done without his seeming to pry.

“You know, in Saint Loolville, the stories of
the Battle Lady seem...well...”

“Farfetched?” the soldier offered.

“Yeah. Farfetched. Have you seen the woman in
action? Do any of these tales hold a grain of truth?”

“What kind of tales are you wondering about?”
the older man asked. One of soldiers next to him began to snicker,
but he was quickly shushed by a playful backhanded slap from the
veteran.

“Oh, many of them. Like the story of the
burning horse. Did she really set that creature aflame from over a
hundred yards away?”

The veteran nodded. “Saw her do it with my
own eyes.”

“In a blinding rainstorm?”

“She
does
use a longbow,” another one of the soldiers
reminded him. “It’s her preferred weapon of choice. Her
specialty.”

“And the one about the three arrows? At three
separate targets? Set at fifty-foot intervals?”

One soldier raised his hand. “I can confirm
that one! God, it was one magnificent shot!”

“And the story of the bull ferret.
Surely most of that was fictitious. After all, no one’s ever killed
a bull ferret with
one
arrow.
It can’t be done.”

The small group nodded. “I saw the creature’s
body after she’d done it,” a third soldier spoke up. “Got him right
in the mouth. It went through the venom sac, directly into the
brain.”

The veteran smiled. “Anything else you’d like
to ask, Renken?”

“Yeah. She’s really Mutah, right?”

The man nodded, eyes suddenly narrowed. Years
of placing his life in danger warned Renken the veteran had become
defensive. The realization fascinated the mercenary.

“Is her hair really the color of ripe
blueberries?”

“Blueberries?” the second soldier
echoed. He grinned, chuckling. “I never thought of that one before.
Yeah, it’s blue. A real dark blue. But after a while you don’t
notice it. And then you can’t imagine her with it any other color.
You could say it’s what makes Atty...well,
Atty
.”

“Can we ask why you’re here?” the veteran
questioned him.

Renken knew the man was still perturbed by
his Mutah comment. If he planned on making this compound his
permanent home, he knew he couldn’t start off on the wrong foot by
antagonizing some of the seasoned soldiers. Especially the ones
who’d fought at the Battle Lord’s side. The men D’Jacques trusted.
With patience, luck, and time, Renken hoped he might be able to
join that elite circle. “I want to pledge my sword to the Battle
Lord. And hopefully be able to make myself a home here.”

The third soldier drained his mug and got to
his feet. “What makes you think he’d be willing to accept a
mercenary? You sell your arm to the highest bidder. Do you think
D’Jacques could ever trust a man who might turn on him because the
Battle Lord from the next compound down the road had a heavier
purse?”

Renken nodded his head and stared down at his
nearly empty bowl. “I anticipated such comments and thoughts.
That’s why I know I’ll be spending a lot of my time and effort
trying to prove myself. So be it. But there’s no where else I want
to go. I’m finished with the mercenary business. My arm won’t be
strong forever. I’m tired of the endless road. I want stability.
And, hopefully, a family.”

“And you think you’ll find it here?” the
veteran asked. “Why?”

“Why? Call it a nonsensical notion.
Call it a weakness. Call me a doddering fool. But the stories also
say there’s a lot of love and commitment at this compound because
of the Battle Lord and his Lady. That’s why the treaties between
Normals and Mutah have been successful. That’s why this compound
has the reputation it has for having the greatest regiment of
archers this side of the Missip. It’s said this place can
accomplish the impossible. It’s because of these stories that I had
to see for myself if any of them were true. I have to find a reason
to believe there really is a such a love. Besides,” Renken added
with a tired smile, “if only half of all I’ve heard is based on
fact, this Atty is a force to be reckoned with. I’d like to see for
myself how skilled she is with a staff, which is
my
specialty.”

“So you think that most of what you’ve heard
about her skills is an elaboration?” the veteran inquired. He had a
smile on his face now, yet Renken knew that at any moment the man
would make his decision about him, and the mercenary had no doubt
his opinion would sway a lot of people. Maybe even the Battle
Lord.

“All I’m saying is that I’ve heard so much of
what she’s done, I decided not to trust hearsay any longer. That’s
another reason why I’m here. I want to see the Battle Lord and Lady
together. I want to see this great love between them, and see if it
warrants the stories and accolades. I want to see the Battle Lady
in action. If you were in my boots, soldier, wouldn’t you want the
same?”

His question got a positive response from the
group of men. The veteran raised his mug in the mercenary’s
direction and grinned.

“Hear, hear, Renken. Well put. Only, don’t
ever let Atty hear you say you think the stories about her are
mostly fairy tales, or she may put an arrow so close to your
manhood, you’ll walk bowlegged for a week!”

The comment drew laughter from the other men
surrounding him as the veteran winked at the mercenary and finished
off his cider. Renken managed a crooked smile in response.

“Well, until I see it with my own eyes, no
one, neither man nor Mutah, will convince me otherwise,” he told
them in what he hoped they’d read as a serious but light-hearted
comment. He raised his mug to take another swallow when something
zipped by his face. Before he was aware of it, his drink was
snatched out of his hand. Liquid sprayed the air, and Renken stared
in shock to see his mug bobbing up and down with an arrow piercing
it through the center and pinning it to the wall behind his head.
He looked down at his hand that had just been holding the mug, then
back at where it hung. There couldn’t have been more than a couple
of inches of clearance between the stein and his lips that the
arrow had to pass between in order to snatch it from his hand. Yet
his fingers, face, and hand were unscathed.

He lifted his head to see the figure at the
opposite end of the room lower her bow and finish descending the
staircase. Even in the light of the lanterns which filled the main
hall with their yellowish glow, there was no mistaking the rich
blue sheen of her hair, which she wore loose that evening.

Renken watched as the incredibly
beautiful woman in hunting attire slowly approached his table, and
at that moment he understood that whatever he may have heard had
been nothing but the truth. No matter how outlandish or impossible
the stories may have sounded, there
was
more than an ounce of reality to every tale.
Or, in this case, it was more like a full ton weight.

The Battle Lady walked over to the knot of
soldiers and leaned over to give the veteran with the scarred face
a warm kiss. The other soldiers seemed to take her expression of
affection in stride, as if they’d expected it. The veteran snaked
an arm around her waist, drawing her almost into his lap, and it
was then Renken noticed how the man laid a protective yet loving
and possessive hand over her slightly swollen belly.

Getting quickly to his feet, the mercenary
bowed to his guests. “My apologies, sir. Madam. I never meant to
say anything to offend either of you, or your men.”

Yulen chuckled. “Apology accepted, Renken.”
Turning to his wife, he teasingly admonished her, “My love, what
have I told you about playing with your toys in the house? Is that
any way to greet a guest?”

With a definite twinkle in her eyes, Atty
gave her a husband an impish grin as she tried to hide the longbow
behind her back. “Oops,” she said, by way of apology.

The simple word made Renken look back up at
her, and he saw her wink at him.

Yes, coming to Alta Novis was the smartest
decision he’d ever made in his life. Not only was it going to be a
great adventure living here, but he knew there was much he was
going to enjoy learning at the side of his new Battle Lord.

And the Battle Lord’s Lady.

About the author:

Linda loves to write romance with a
fantasy or science fiction flair. Her technique is often described
as being as visual as a motion picture or graphic novel. By day she
is a Kindergarten teacher, wife, and mother of two who lives in a
small south Texas town near the Gulf coast. But at night she delves
into alternate worlds filled with daring exploits and sensuous,
erotic romance.

Among her accomplishments are ten consecutive
number one best sellers, one of which was the 2009 Title of the
Year, and herself being named 2009 Author of the Year.

For more information about
this title, and for other books by Linda Mooney, please visit her
website at:
www.LindaMooney.com