This Battle Lord's Quest (20 page)

An older woman wearing a deer head and hide, and a
gray-haired man in buckskin, separated themselves from the crowd, stopping a
short distance away. The group of warriors led Yulen and the others toward the
couple, signaling a halt a short distance away.

The woman eyed the newcomers, noting their dress
and, more importantly, their lack of weapons. It was the older man who spoke
first, addressing the lead warrior.

“Have you brought us a new enemy, Borlis?”

“They say they are on a mission. They’re searching
for one of their own. A blue-haired woman named Atty.”

“She and others from my compound were attacked by a
coon up on top of the cliff.” Yulen pointed overhead to where he believed the
ledge would be, although it was difficult to spot it in the dark.

“What makes you believe she’s here?” the woman with
the deer head asked.

“We don’t. We can only hope. We’ve been tracking
her, but we lost the trail a few days ago.”

“He believes the woman named Aggee might be his
wife,” Borlis told them.

The woman appeared surprised. “His wife?”

“All I ask is that I be allowed to see her. To
confirm whether or not your Aggee is actually my Atty.”

“Atty.” The woman seemed to be mulling over the
name.

After a few moments of deliberation, the
gray-haired man motioned to the woman beside him, and they conversed in private
for a few seconds. Finally, the woman nodded, and turned toward the crowd.

“Aggee Two, come forward.”

A figure slowly moved forward through the crowd,
finally appearing in front. She was barely a dozen yards away, and Yulen felt
an enormous surge of joy flood his senses. Their connection had brought them
back together, and he could hear gasps coming from the others behind him. He
started to go to her, when a hand snagged his arm at the elbow, holding him
back. Yulen glanced over to see Fortune giving him a warning look. The hunter
was right. He couldn’t make any move that would appear threatening, or else
this whole scenario could blow up in their faces.

Forced to remain where he stood, Yulen drank in the
sight of her as she drew nearer. Most obvious was her bandaged arm, but there
didn’t appear to be any other visible wounds. She had on the same sort of
clothing the others wore, and like many of the townspeople, she had marked her
face by drawing two parallel blue stripes across her cheeks. She had also cut
off the blackened ends of her hair, and the remaining blue tresses she wore in
a myriad of small braids which stuck out in all directions, giving her an
almost comical appearance.

The woman with the deer head smiled at Atty, who
stopped beside her. Yulen searched his wife’s face, looking for some sign of
recognition. Looking for that spark of joy that always lit up her face whenever
he returned from a brief sojourn.

There was nothing now in her blue-gray eyes other
than the same wariness and curiosity everyone else had.

“Aggee, this man claims to be your husband. Is that
true? Is your real name Atty?”

“Atrilan Ferran D’Jacques,” Yulen emphasized, but
he could already tell what her answer would be, and his heart began to crumple
at the realization.

Aggee/Atty stared at him, unmoving. As the seconds
passed, and she didn’t run to him, or smile at him, or in any way acknowledge
him, Yulen felt the remaining tendrils of hope shrivel and die.
 

Finally, she slowly shook her head. “No,” she
quietly answered. “I don’t know who this man is. And my name isn’t Atty.”

Chapter
Twenty-Seven

Solution

“Atty! No! What are you saying?”

Mastin’s cry of pain and disbelief echoed the same feelings
going through Yulen’s head. Yet the Battle Lord remained silent, his eyes
locked on hers as if by sheer force of will he could make her remember him,
remember who she was, and remember their love for each other.

Surprisingly, the deer head woman put her arm
around Atty’s shoulders. “Aggee, it’s late. You need your rest. I want you go
to home now.”

Atty stared at her. “What about them?” She
indicated Yulen with a nod.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Giving him one last glance, Atty shrugged in that
way that tugged at his emotions, then walked away, disappearing back into the
crowd. Yulen balled his hands into fists and fought the need to go after her.

The woman seemed to notice his consternation and
smiled at him. “It appears we are at an impasse, but I think I may have a
solution. Come.” She gestured for them to follow. To Yulen’s amazement, the
warriors remained where they stood as he and his men fell in step behind her
and the gray-haired man.

“Yulen, why did she—”

He held up a hand to shush his Second. There would
be time later when they could talk. First, however, they needed to remain
observant. This was still an unknown, and therefore potentially dangerous
compound, despite their fragile truce.

They meandered through the winding streets,
arriving at one low building with wide, oaken double doors. Inside was a single
room containing a long rectangular table and many chairs. The deer head woman
waved her hand around the room.

“Please. Have a seat.”

Rather than sitting at the head of the table, she
choose a chair along one side. Yulen took a seat directly across from her, as
did his men. The older man sat beside her. There were no warriors present,
although the Battle Lord was willing to bet there were a few outside standing
guard.

“So.” The woman clasped her hands in front of her.
“Let’s begin with introductions. My name is Dahyan. I am in charge of security
for our tribe.”

“Tribe?” The word escaped him before Yulen could
stop himself.

Dahyan didn’t appear upset over the interruption.
“We are the Lanta tribe. This is Dristoll.” She waved a hand at the gray-haired
man. “He is one of our counsel. Where did you say you were from?”

“The west. From a compound called Alta Novis.”

“A compound?”

“A fortification surrounded by a wall.”

“Ah.” She smiled and dropped her eyes to her
clasped hands. “And you’re here, looking for the woman you call Atty?”

“That was her.” Yulen knew his tone was clipped,
but again he couldn’t help himself. “Your Aggee is my wife Atty, but I have no
idea why she denied knowing me.”

Dahyan gave him a gentle smile. “I believe you,”
she stated softly.

“You do?”

She sighed. “Aggee...Atty... Let me begin at the
beginning. My daughter Paas is one of our warriors. On occasion she ascends to
the top of the plateau to hunt. On her last excursion, she encountered your
Atty. She said the woman was badly injured and in need of help, so she brought
her down here.” Dahyan tapped her temple with an index finger. “Atty told us
she’d fought a raccoon, and during the battle she broke her arm and suffered a
severe blow to the head. She doesn’t remember if anyone was with her at the
time. She doesn’t recall where she’s from. She didn’t even know her own name. I
have another daughter named Aggee, and it sounded familiar to her, so she took the
name. I can understand now why she chose it.” The woman smiled again and
murmured the two names under her breath. “Aggee. Atty.”

“You said you thought you might have a solution?”
Yulen reminded her.

The woman leaned back in her seat. “Atty is staying
at my home as my guest, and is welcome to stay until she chooses otherwise. You
and your men can bunk in the barracks with the other warriors.”

Yulen bit his tongue and forced himself to remain
silent as he waited for her to continue.

“A few days ago, we were attacked by another tribe.
They were intent on stealing our harvest. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re
not a warring people. We try to subsist on what the land has to offer, but
there are others who would rather spend their energy on stealing, rather than
putting their efforts into gathering their own. This is the time of year when
we have an increase in the number of raids.” She stared hard at Yulen. “You
said she was one of your hunters?”

“The best,” Fortune spoke up.

“Is she good with a weapon?”

“She’s incredible,” Mastin said.

Dristoll grunted and placed his arms on the table.
“She was instrumental in helping us defeat the intruders, and all she had at
her disposal were rocks.”

Yulen let out a bark of laughter, not so much
because of Atty’s prowess, but because, from the man’s tone of voice, it was
evident he still couldn’t believe what had occurred. “I assure you, sir, my
wife has abilities far beyond what you or others can comprehend unless you’re
there to see them for yourselves.”

“You should see her with a bow,” Renken added.
“She’s astounding.”

“A bow?” Dahyan raised her eyebrows. “When she came
to us, all she had was a dagger.”

Mastin leaned toward the Battle Lord. “That
explains why we couldn’t find her Ballock.”

He nodded. She was wearing her weapons belt. “The
bow was destroyed during her fight with the coon.”

“Another thing, Deh...” Dahyan stumbled on the
name.

“D’Jacques.”

“D’Jacques. Although Atty has earned our trust and
respect in the short time she’s been with us, there is still an issue we are
concerned about.”

“Which is?”

“She calls herself a mutant, and says that her blue
hair is her mark.” The woman and Dristoll exchanged guarded looks before she
continued. “We have come across animals which we believe are mutants. Usually
they’re creatures that no longer resemble what ancient texts tell us they used
to be like. And we’ve encountered humans that are so grossly deformed, at first
we thought they had been in some sort of accident. Or they had taken on a
disease that affected both their bodies and their minds.”

“Bloods.” The simple word came from Mastin.

“Bloods?” Dahyan looked at each of Yulen’s men,
then back at him.

“Are you asking if Atty is like one of those
creatures?” Yulen asked.

“Yes. I mean, is there a chance that she could turn...”

He readjusted his seating and leaned over the
table, placing his arms in front of him like they did. “Where we’re from, there
are three types of beings. There are the Normals, who haven’t changed since the
Great Collision. The mutants, who have changed slightly but are still
recognizable. And then there are those creatures who have become gross
exaggerations of what they once were. The same goes for humans. I am a Normal.
So is Renken and Mastin.” He indicated the two men. “Fortune here, as well as
my wife, are Mutah. Mutants. They’re as human as I am, but we’ve learned that
the changes that make them different have increased their abilities, making
them better in many areas. Greater and better at things than what people like
myself can accomplish.”

Dahyan looked at Fortune. “Greater? How?” She
stared at the hunter, apparently trying to figure out his differences. “Like in
the way you handle a weapon?”

“I’m a hunter, like Atty,” Fortune admitted. “My
skill is with a knife. Her skills encompass many weapons. But others like me
and her may have better eyesight or hearing. Or they could be gifted with a
mathematical genius, or be a superb horticulturist. Or it could be something
simpler, like an extra arm or finger, or knees that bend forwards as well as
backwards.”

Yulen glanced at the man. “Really? Knees that do
that?”

“Rilley Sheerin. Lived a few doors down from me,”
Fortune told him.

Dristoll chuckled. “Then we have nothing to worry
about?”

Yulen continued. “The third human kind are what we
call Bloods. They’re the extremely mutated. To the point of being more inhuman
than anything remotely civilized. They’re extremely dangerous. The ones you
mentioned were probably Bloods.”

“We found that out,” Dahyan mentioned softly. She
cast her eyes at Fortune. “And you’re also a mutant?”

“We prefer Mutah. Yes. I was born with a long
tail.”

“Would we be out of line to ask to see it?”
Dristoll inquired.

“Unfortunately, I was met with an accident some
months ago, and the majority of it was cut off. Otherwise, I would. However, if
you’re needing proof.” He reached inside his leather vest and removed one of
his valuable leaf-bladed knives. Before the two tribe people could react to the
realization that he was still armed, Fortune deftly tossed it at the wall
behind them.

“Got it!”

“Got...what?” Dahyan gasped.

“See for yourself.” Fortune smiled.

Dristoll arose from his seat and walked over to the
wood-reinforced wall to peer at where the knife was embedded. He reacted slightly,
then carefully pulled out the blade and took it over to show the woman. She
stared in surprise at the large ant impaled on the tip. Silently, Dristoll
handed the knife back to Fortune, who cleaned it off before tucking it back
inside his vest. Yulen noticed that neither of the tribe people asked that the
Mutah turn over his hidden weapons.

“You still haven’t told us what your solution is,”
the Battle Lord reminded the woman.

Dahyan pulled herself together before replying.
“It’s simple, actually. I believe we’re both in agreement that it’s because of
the injury to your Atty’s head why she has no memory of you.”

“Maybe those memories are still there, but they’re
also injured,” Yulen argued. “Or maybe they’re buried to where she can’t recall
them.”

“Let’s hope,” Dahyan answered. “You being here
might eventually draw those memories back to the surface. So this is what I
suggest. You must get to know her, D’Jacques. Make her acquaintance, and become
her friend. My solution is that you woo her all over again, as if you’ve only
just met. But you must not try to rush it, or in any way attempt to force her,
or else she could refuse you completely.”

Yulen bit his lower lip. The woman’s idea was
sound. It also resurrected the tiny embers of hope remaining inside him.

“I will do whatever it takes to win her love
again,” he swore. “How much time will you give me?”

The deer head woman smiled. “Take all the time you
need.”

“And what is the price I must pay for your
generosity?” He knew there had to be a price. There always was.

“Our price is simple, D’Jacques. You say you and
your men are skilled in the art of war? Then give us your allegiance to aide us
whenever we are attacked. Help us defend our home while you are here.”

Relief was a sweet rush streaming through his
blood. “That will not be a problem,” he promised. “I and my men are at your
service.”