The Battle Lord's Lady (5 page)

She watched guardedly as the cluster of
Cleaners approached the bound prisoners. Temporary relief swept
over her as they were partially untied and herded into one of the
shops. They might have escaped death this time, but there was no
guarantee how much longer they would remain alive.

The cluster seemed to divide into four
smaller groups. One group began to retrieve the bodies of the
fallen Cleaners. Another group took over the removal of the cooked
badger, while the third group spread out and disappeared into the
narrow pathways between the apartments. Mutant hunting.

Atty shuddered. She’d been so close. And to
make matters worse, the morning fog was beginning to descend,
obscuring her view of the men in the market area. To add insult to
injury, her right leg had gone to sleep. It was the leg she used
for balance when taking aim. She tried to stamp some feeling back
into it, but it felt more like a lump of dead weight. She tried
slapping it, poking it, and banging it with her fist. After some
moments the leg began to tingle with familiar pain, and Atty
stretched the limb to hurry along its revival. It was only by sheer
luck that she spotted the helmeted figure rushing at her through
the gray-black mist.

The Cleaner swung his sword, aiming for her
head. Instinctively Atty threw up her bow. The blade struck the
thick, dense wood, bouncing off. She rolled to one side, and barely
missed the sword slicing the air where she’d been. She tried to get
to her feet but her numbed leg wouldn’t support her weight, and she
listed to one side.

Atty warded off another blow coming sideways.
The heavy sword continued its arc. The Cleaner following through by
turning around and bringing it over his head to smash downward. In
those precious seconds she notched her last arrow and let it fly
without aiming.

The shaft punched a hole through the man’s
face with enough power to penetrate the skull in the back. The
impact pushed him backwards toward the edge of the roof. The
sword’s movement brought it down and away, swinging out of the dead
man’s hand and over into the marketplace, the length of its steel
reflecting the firelight as it fell to the ground.

Gasping for breath, her body singing from the
adrenalin, Atty watched as the Cleaner finally toppled from the
roof. Engrossed in the man’s descent, she never saw the blow that
glanced off the side of her face and sent her sprawling over the
tiles.

Chapter Five

Captured

“This is the Mutah?”

“This is the only one we’ve found... so far,”
the Cleaner quickly added.

Dizzy and nauseous, Atty felt her cheek and
mouth pressed into the dirt. She tried to make sense of where she
was but her head felt like it was about to explode. Her right eye
wouldn’t open. Her left would only give her blurred images of
people walking around her, but her sight seemed to be slowly
clearing. The best she could figure was that she was back in the
market area.

“You found him where?”

“Over there, Sir. On top of the blue
building.”

“
There?
”

“Yes, sir.”

“Impossible.” A third voice chimed in. It was
not as deep and resonant as the first one, nor as nervous sounding
as the second. “That’s got to be a good hundred yards. No one can
aim with that kind of accuracy from that far. Not in the middle of
the night.”

A figure moved away from her and stopped in
front of a blood splatter on a wall. Atty realized she was lying in
front of the leather shop. The figure stared at the splatter, then
turned and looked back at the tool shop. “He’s a Mutah,” the figure
finally acknowledged. “There’s no telling what he’s capable of
doing.”

A boot suddenly stomped on her back, crushing
her chest and face further into the hard packed earth. Atty grunted
in pain. It brought an immediate reaction. The Cleaner leaned down
and hissed in her ear, “You think that’s painful, just you wait,
Mutah. You’re going to answer for everyone you offed tonight, and
then some!”

“Release him,” the sonorous voice
ordered.

“Sir!”

“I want a word with him before we flay him.
Now get off of him.”

The pressure on her chest relaxed. At the
same time Atty was hauled to her feet and turned to face her
captors. The torches cast an almost surreal glow over the compound
as the fog began to lay thick across the open area. The smell of
roasted badger caused her stomach to tighten painfully, reminding
her she hadn’t eaten in almost two days. She blinked and tried to
focus but it was difficult.

“Are you our shooter?” asked a completely
different voice. It came from one side. She tried to face him but
she was jerked back into position. In return, the unrelenting
pounding in her skull increased its pressure. She gritted her teeth
against it.

“Answer me. Are you our shooter?”

She had to spit dirt and saliva mixed into
mud out of her mouth before she could manage to reply hoarsely.
“It’s my bow, yes.”

“Did you act alone?”

“I had to. No one else would.”

“What do you mean, no one else would?” It was
the third voice from earlier.

She paused, then realized the truth had to be
told or else others may die. “The other hunters are gone. We need
meat, so they set out a couple of days ago on an expedition.”

“You mean there’s no one left to guard the
compound?”

“There are others, but they won’t put up any
resistance. At least, if they haven’t by done so by now...” She
coughed to try and clear her throat.

“Why not, Mutah?”

“They’re terrified of you. They went into
hiding.”

“But not you,” the deep voice chimed in.

“I...couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“My oath as a hunter says I have to protect
the compound, not just provide it with meat.”

The Cleaner with the deep voice nodded. She
could see the shadow move its head. By now she could faintly make
out the features of those before her, but the one with the rich
voice wore a helmet that shielded almost his entire face.

The one with the third voice laughed
derisively. “Your
oath
? Since
when do Mutah take oaths?”

Atty turned to face him. “Since there’ve been
Cleaners to swear at,” she shot back.

A gloved hand suddenly swung out and clipped
her neatly in the jaw. She heard her teeth click together, felt
something crack, and she fell back. The man who’d been holding her
arms let go, allowing her to grab her mouth in pain.

“Karv!”

“He spoke rudely!”

“He answered your question,” the deep voice
barked in anger. The Cleaner waved two fingers in Atty’s direction.
In response she was lifted to her feet and brought closer.

“What kind of Mutah are you?”

She carefully shook her head. The pain was
too great to verbalize any more answers.

A gloved hand came toward her. Atty flinched
and tried to avoid the blow. Instead, the hand grabbed her by the
wrist. The man with the deep voice stood and looked down on her. He
examined the wrist and the hand, turning it over, peering between
the fingers, making sure he could get a good look at it in the
torchlight.

“No scales. No sores. I see no webbing or
imperfections.”

He jerked off her knit cap. An errant braid
uncoiled, landing on her shoulder and sliding down to her waist.
The men grew quiet. The gloved hand wiped itself across her jacket,
pausing over her breasts.

“A
girl?
” the third man asked
incredulously.

The deep-voiced man reached through the hair,
rubbing the scalp, searching for any outward sign of abnormalities.
Finding none, he leaned over and peer intently into Atty’s
face.

“Tell me the truth if you wish to live. Are
you the sole person responsible for killing sixteen of my men?”

Unable to speak, she nodded. In the uncertain
flicker of light and dark they hadn’t noticed the color of her
hair. It was a small comfort.

“Is the bow your only weapon?”

Again, a nod.

The man leaned back, sighing deeply.
“Amazing. Horeth?”

“Sir?”

“Get MaGrath to look after her. See to her
wounds.”

“Yulen!”

“Are you objecting, Karv?”

The man named Karv stepped forward, giving
Atty a decent chance to size him up. He was short and stocky but
extremely muscular. He wore his hair long and loose, and his beard
and moustache were equally scraggly. His body armor looked almost
golden in the dim light.

“She’s a Mutah, Yulen. Why don’t you kill her
and get it over with?”

“She doesn’t show any symptoms,” the
deep-voiced man, the one called Yulen, replied.

“And we know that sometimes Normals have
taken up residence in Mutah camps,” the one who’d spoken fourth
said.

“Maybe you can’t see her Mutah signs right
now. Remember that Mutah whore we picked up outside of Yungaree?
You never knew what she really was until she took off her clothes
and you saw those extra rows of teats under her arms-”

“Karv, I have my reasons.” Yulen turned to
face the shorter man, and Karv took a step back automatically. It
was clear who was in charge, and whose word would not be
challenged.

“What about the others?”

“Kill them,” he responded, as if ordering
someone to do his laundry.

Atty struggled against her captors. Despite
the unrelenting pain in her head, the man’s callousness was the
last straw. “You bastard,” she hissed, trying to lunge for him.

Yulen turned toward her. A chuckle bubbled in
his throat. “The Mutah is still feisty?”

One of the men holding her arms spoke out.
“Want us to knock her out? Would make her easier to handle.”

“No. I want her tended here. Put her in one
of the buildings. I’ll decide later if I want to burden us down
with any prisoners. Uh, Karv, don’t kill the prisoners... just
yet.”

He gave a shrill whistle between his teeth.
One of the Cleaners by the pit stood up and waited for
instructions. Yulen waved him in and the man trotted over. In the
meantime Atty was set back on the ground and her arms bound behind
her. One of her captors left but the other remained to keep a heavy
hand pressed down on her shoulder.

“Yes, sir!”

“What’s in the pit?” Yulen asked.

“Can’t quite tell, but it’s a big one. Packed
down with potatoes, too, I think.”

“Is it ready to eat? I’m almost hungry enough
to puke a bowl of Mutah stew.”

Several Cleaners laughed. Atty assumed it was
an old joke. Yet the mental image she got from the comment turned
her stomach.

Karv spoke up. Again, Atty was getting the
distinct impression that the squat little man was either a close
confidant, or the right hand of the man called Yulen.

“Can it be safe enough to eat? After all, we
know Mutah will eat their own feces if they have to.”

“Where do you get such ghastly ideas?” Atty
managed. Enough was enough. And even if her mouth meant her death
sentence, she couldn’t bear the thought of dying under such false
allegations.

For the second time that night the
surrounding Cleaners went totally silent. For a long moment the
only sound she could hear was the distant crackling of the fire,
the uneasy rustling of the horses, and a lot of struggling breaths
against the cold. Atty felt a shudder go through her.

“It’s a badger in the pit. Dressed at
around four hundred pounds. It was rubbed with herbs and salt and
some pepper root and onion, and there’s onions and potatoes in the
cavity. It should be enough to feed the compound
and
your men.” Talking was difficult,
but not impossible. She addressed Yulen directly, since the man was
staring at her in shocked silence like everyone else.

Another minute passed. Then Yulen, in
voice laced with amusement, inquired, “Don’t tell me...
you
killed the badger,
right?”

“If I admitted it, you wouldn’t believe
me.”

“With a bow and arrow?” Karv interjected.

Atty’s first reaction was to give a smart
answer but common sense suddenly interceded. “We needed meat. This
winter’s been harsher than usual, and most of our hunters have been
ill.”

Yulen sighed loudly. “Well, this seems to be
getting stranger and more interesting with every passing minute.”
He started to say more when they were hailed by the sentry.

The Cleaner known as the physician was
escorted through the gate. Atty surmised the man had been sent on
his way to the compound soon after the second phalanx had set off.
The physician gave a cursory glance to each body before approaching
the leaders.

“Somebody has an extraordinary eye,” the
elderly man reported. His brown hair was shot with gray but his
face was nearly seamless. Atty couldn’t begin to guess the man’s
age. The physician gave her a quick stare.

“Look after her,” Yulen ordered.

The man started. “Is she a-”

“Doesn’t matter. Wrap up her face or whatever
you have to do, but I want her able to make the trip back to the
compound with us.”

Karv opened his mouth but was waved silent.
However, the physician was less inclined. “I thought I was told I
don’t heal Mutah.”

Yulen smiled, but it was neither warm nor
friendly. “You’ll heal who I tell you to. Just do your best. It’s
all I ask.” Having said, he pushed his way through the knot of men
and headed toward the open market area.

The physician frowned. Atty got the
impression that, despite his personal grievances, he was obligated
to do as he was ordered. Waving for a couple of men to help him, he
had them take her into a nearby shop.