This Battle Lord's Quest (23 page)

Chapter
Thirty-Two

Craving

She couldn’t cope with the flood of memories
crowding inside her brain. There were too many of them, and all of them evoked
their own individual feeling. Pain, sadness, joy, more pain, longing, ecstasy,
pain again, contentment...

Too much. Too many. Too overwhelming.

She ran from the falls to the house and stumbled
into her bedroom where she collapsed on the bed. Lying there on her back, she
covered her face with her hands and let the images flit through her mind, fast
and furious.

She had gone to the falls after hearing a couple of
warriors talking about taking the Battle Lord there. She’d suspected he was
going to bathe, rather than draw a bucket of water for a spit bath, and she’d
been right.

His hair. That bright red-gold hair the color of
rich honey.

Even wet, she knew it. Knew its feel between her
fingers. Knew its heaviness and length. Knew its drag across her face and neck
when he bent his head to kiss her throat before moving lower to capture her
breasts.

And the scar.

That’s what she’d missed seeing on Droo’s face.
That was what she’d been seeking on every man’s countenance. The scar.
The
crow scar.

She rolled onto her stomach. Grabbing her pillow,
she pressed her face into it.

The wet hair matted his strong, muscular chest,
then ran in a thin line down his belly, to surround his partial erection in a
soft nest. An erection she knew would be stiff and long and thick if the water
hadn’t been cold.

Cold water.

She shivered involuntarily. The muscles in her
lower abdomen clenched. She reached down to run her fingers over the wetness
seeping through her pants as hunger pounded between her legs.

He was her husband. Her body ached for him. The
thought of him driving himself into her was almost too strong. She wanted to
rush back to him, throw him onto the ground, and ride him until they both
yelled their release.

He was her husband. The sight of him now brought
forth a rush of faces and places and words and voices and sounds and smells
that threatened to make her brain explode. It was too much, all at once.

He was her husband. She no longer doubted his
claim...except for one crucial factor.

Where was the love?

Yes, her body literally craved his, when no one
else made her take a second glance. Not even Droo, as handsome and built as he
was, made her react in the way she did when that man, the Battle Lord, Yulen
D’Jacques approached her. He was like a wall of want she wanted to scale. A
virile and powerful mountain she wanted to climb. He had taken her to wife, and
she’d given him a son. A prince.

But why don’t I love him? Why is my heart remaining
distant?

Maybe you do. Maybe it isn’t,
a little voice replied from the black recesses of
her mind.

Then why don’t I feel it?

A soft whimper escaped her. She couldn’t deny what
her body was demanding. She couldn’t explain why she ached for him, for his
touch, for his kiss.

His kiss. I can’t think, I can’t feel, I can’t do
anything when he kisses me.
She
heard her own voice echo the words from long ago.

Drawing her knees up to her belly, Atty clutched
the pillow tighter and squeezed her eyes shut. She had to find out if she loved
this man, or if this marriage he claimed they shared was simply built on sexual
gratification. One way or another, she would have to find a way for them to be
alone so they could explore each other’s bodies. Cross that one last barrier.
Maybe then she’d learn the truth. Maybe then she’d find out if she honestly
loved the man. Because if she didn’t, there was no way she could go back to his
world. She could not see having a future with someone if she couldn’t feel the
smallest bit of affection for him.

But you have a son.

Do I?
She
questioned herself.
Is the child really my son, or was I simply a vessel
used to provide him an heir.

Deep in her heart, she wanted to love the man. She
wanted to believe they had a happy life together. She wanted, more than
anything, to trust in the fact that the man was here because of the way they
felt about each other. If they didn’t, she now had a chance at a whole new life
here in the Lanta tribal village. She had been given the opportunity to find
someone she cared about, who would love her in return, and not just physically.

Maybe there was a reason why she’d gone missing,
the way Droo claimed.

But before she made her decision, she needed to
find out what kind of man Yulen D’Jacques was. She
 
wanted to see his character, and talk to the other men who came
with him.
I want to know what they think of the Battle Lord.

Rolling off the bed, Atty got to her feet. Fresh
resolve helped to dampen the embers in her blood. With a renewed sense of
purpose, she strode out of her room and out of the house, and headed for the
barracks.

Chapter
Thirty-Three

Lake

Mastin stood at the water’s edge. He was mesmerized
by the way the waves lapped the narrow shoreline. He had never seen the ocean,
but he’d heard sometimes its waves could reach as high as the treetops. What
was crazier, his teachers had sworn that some people used to take boards, stand
on them, and ride on top of the waves like they were liquid glass.

He narrowed his eyes, trying to spot the opposite
shore. The lake was roughly circular in shape, but it disappeared into the
distance until the mountains formed a barricade at the horizon.

“If you’re trying to see the other side from here,
you’re wasting your time.”

He whirled around, crouching, hand on the hilt of
his sword, before he realized who had snuck up behind him. At the sight of her,
the Second straightened up. It was her, the woman he’d seen when the four of
them had arrived at the village late last night. He remembered spotting her as
she took a defensive position behind the woman bearing the deer head. In the
torchlight, she had been a strong figure, immediately catching his eye and his
breath.

Now, she stood just as proudly as she had then, her
spear slightly behind her to show she was not a threat. A light breeze ruffled
the ends of her hair. His eyes dwelled on the tiny silver ring piercing her
nose, and a wild desire tightened in his groin.

Paas half-turned and pointed to the cliffs on the
other side of the village. “You should see it from the edge of the fallen
heavens. It will steal your breath.”

The moment broken, Mastin swallowed hard in order
to speak. “I have, and you’re right. It did.”

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence between
them, when Paas motioned at the lake with a tilt of her head. “I hope you
didn’t come to fetch water. This stuff’s too brackish to drink.”

Mastin glanced down at the empty bucket beside him,
then back at her. “I was on my way to the falls, but I sort of got sidetracked.

“Indeed.” She smiled, and his heart skipped a
couple of beats. He took a deep breath to steady himself, when she added, “Want
to walk the shore?”

The Second grinned. “Sounds good.”

Her smile brightened, and he got the impression she
was actually relieved by his reply. “Good, because I have a few questions I’d
like answered.”

She turned and started back the way he’d come,
casually strolling along the edge where the grass grew. Mastin easily got in
step beside her. They were about a dozen yards into their walk when she spoke
again.

“What does Aggee mean to you?”

“Atty,” he automatically corrected. “It’s short for
Atrilan. Other than being my Battle Lady, she’s also a very dear friend, not to
mention the best damn archer I’ve ever known.”

“I’ve seen her skills. She’s pretty fair with the
knife, too.”

Mastin chuckled. “All right. Confession time.
There’s very little in the way of weaponry that she’s
not
good at.”

“And your Battle Lord.”

“Yulen D’Jacques.”

“D’Jacques. He loves her so much that he ventured
all this way, braving the unknown and dangers, to find her?”

“Yeah.” He stopped to toss a rock into the water.
“Their love is incredible to watch.” Looking at the woman, he added, “I’ve been
with them since the beginning. I’ve witnessed it from the start.”

They stared at one another, neither one willing to
make the first move. Both of them afraid to. Mastin watched how the sun turned
her hair from purple to red, depending on the way the light hit it.

“Is your hair naturally that color?”

She gave him a quizzical look. “No. Why on earth
would you think...
 
Oh. Never mind.” She
blushed lightly when she realized why he’d asked. “No. The brown part’s me. I
just wanted to do a little creative marking on it. You know.” She pointed to
the lines on her face, then to her hair. To stave off any more potential
embarrassment, Paas resumed walking. “Your name is Mastin?”

“Yep. Cole Mastin.”

She stopped. “Cole?”

“Yeah.”

“Two names?”

“The first one is exclusively mine. The second is
my family name.”

“That explains why you and the Battle Lord go by
more than one name. The others, too?”

“Yes. And Atty. Before she married Yulen, she was
Atty Ferran. Now she goes by Atty D’Jacques.”

“But I thought I heard him called her Atrilan.”

“That’s her full name, but she goes by Atty.”

Paas gave an exasperated sound. “Atty, Aggie,
Atrilan. You people have too many names! I’m glad I have only one. Saves on
confusion.”

Mastin laughed, earning a grin from her in
response.

“This Battle Lord,” she continued. “You say you are
his second man?”

“My official title is Captain of the Guard.
Actually, I’m co-Captain. Atty has a Second, too. His name is Warren Paxton.”

“Where is he? Why isn’t he here with you?”

“He was injured during our search. We had to send
him back to Alta Novis.”

“It must have been a serious injury.”

“He was nearly disemboweled by a raccoon.”

Paas gave him a wide-eyed look of surprise. “Aggie
said she was attacked by a coon, but she didn’t tell us there were others with
her at the time.”

Mastin nodded. “There were three of them. Her,
Paxton, and a man named Renken. Garet Renken.”

“Renken. Is he the dark-haired man in your party?”

“That’s him. He’s an ex-mercenary who gave up the
profession to settle at Alta Novis because he’d heard about Atty and Yulen.
Since that time, he has proven himself to be a good friend and ally.”

He watched as she glanced over her shoulder toward
the village. “He was injured,” she stated, as if confirming her thoughts to
herself.

“Yeah. When it was all over, and he came to, there
was just him and Paxton. Atty was missing. We came upon him, dragging Paxton on
a travois through the forest.”

“Wait, wait. You came upon him?”

Chuckling, Mastin tossed another rock into the
lake. “It’s a long story.”

“Later tonight, after evening meal, will you tell
me the whole story?”

His heart nearly skidded to halt, and he caught
himself before he tripped over a large rock halfway buried in the dirt.

“I-I’d enjoy that,” he promised.

They came around a small inlet. Drawn up on the
shore was a narrow wooden boat. Impulsively, Mastin jogged over to the craft
and checked it for durability. Two oars lay across the two seats.

“I wonder who owns this?”

“No one,” Paas replied. He gave her a surprised
look, earning him another smile. “You could say it belongs to the village. It’s
there for anyone who needs to use it. All that’s asked is that they return it
where they found it and in the same condition. Are you wanting to take it out
on the water?”

“Can we?”

“Of course. Get in.”

He threw one leg into the craft, and was about to
shove off the shoreline with his other foot, when Paas gave the boat a hard
shove and leaped inside. Mastin was thrown off-balance. He tried to get his
other leg into the boat, but the sole of his boot slipped in the mud, and he
landed on his butt in the knee-high water.

Paas started laughing, unable to help herself. The
sound of it broke through the last of his attempts to impress her, and Mastin
also broke out laughing. Getting to his feet, he tried to wring out his shirt,
then got into the boat. Paas took the oars and started rowing them toward the
middle of the lake while he removed his boots and emptied them over the boat’s
side.

“Please tell me something similar has happened to
you,” he grinned.

“Oh, yeah. Worse. Come on, Cole. Loosen up. You need
to stop being so stiff.”

“Me? Stiff?”

“Military stiff. Every time D’Jacques says
something, it’s like you have a pike shoved up your ass.” She gave him a wink.
“Sort of made me want to pinch that ass just to see you jump.”

A flush of heat went through him. To think that
both of them had been thinking along the same lines all this time, and he had
been too oblivious to know it.

“Want me to help?” He tried to reach for the oars.
Paas shook her head and continued rowing.

“I’ll row. You talk. Tell me why Agg-Atty is a
master of the bow. Who is her teacher?”

“I honestly don’t think...actually, most of us
don’t think her ability has anything to do with who taught her. We believe it’s
because she’s Mutah.”

Paas stopped rowing to stare at him. “Mutah?
Mutant?”

“You’ve heard of them?”

“She asked me if I was Mutah. I had no idea what
she meant. Are you saying Atty is a mutant?”

“Haven’t you noticed her blue hair? It’s her mark.”

Paas gave a snort of laughter and resumed working
the oars. “Her hair is blue and black. How was I to know its original color? My
hair isn’t its real color, but that’s because I like to change it. So do
most of us in the village.”

“Hers is that way because our compound was invaded
a few months ago, and she had to dye her hair black to keep the enemy from
recognizing her.”

Paas nodded but didn’t reply as she maneuvered the
boat further away from the shore. Mastin tried to keep his eyes from focusing
on the way her breasts pressed against the thin shirt she wore under the furred
vest whenever her hands brought the oars close to her chest. Pressing his knees
together, he hoped she wouldn’t notice his growing interest in her, as
evidenced in the rising bulge in his pants. He cleared his throat to continue.

“Every mutant has a distinguishing mark or
deformity that identifies them as Mutah. Remember Fortune? The hunter who
accompanied us?”

“Big guy with the bandolier of knives crisscrossing
his chest? Are you telling me he’s a mutant?”

Mastin nodded. “He has, I mean, he had a tail. A
long one, like a lion’s tail, with a tuft at the end. When the compound was
nearly overrun, he was captured and tortured, and they cut it off. But, yeah,
he’s Mutah, too. In fact, Atty’s his goddaughter, in a way.”

He watched, mesmerized by the effortless way the
woman worked the oars. Clearly, she had done this sort of thing countless times
in the past. Absently, he dipped his fingers in the water and enjoyed the way
it flowed silky and cold over his hand.

“You might not want to do that,” she warned. “We
don’t swim in this lake, either. There’s too many creatures in it that like to
nibble on anything you expose to them.”

He jerked his hand away, and Paas laughed at his
stricken expression. “Don’t worry. They’re really not that dangerous,” she
added. “Much.”

After another minute or two of rowing, Paas stopped
and pulled the oars into the boat. They drifted a few more feet before slowly
coming to a stop. Mastin watched her breathe in deeply.

“Smell that?” she murmured.

He sniffed. “Sorry. Am I missing something?”

“That’s the smell of late fall. Dry grass, the
water, brisk air. I love the fall. It’s my favorite time of the year. How about
you?”

“Truthfully? Winter is my favorite season.”

“Really? Why?”

“Don’t get the wrong impression, but it’s because
things slow down. The world kind of comes to a halt, and burrows under the
covers to keep warm. It’s the least busiest time of the year for us.”

“Why would that give me the wrong impression?”

“Because I don’t want you to think that I’m lazy, or
looking for an excuse to get out of doing any work.” He studied her beautiful
features to see how she would react. He was pleasantly surprised when she
wrinkled her nose in amusement.

“Oh, hell, Cole. I’d never think that of you. I
mean, you came all this way to look for a woman who was just your friend, not
your lover. Uhh, or were you required to put your life in danger?” she asked,
trying to second guess the reason.

Mastin shook his head. “Yulen gave us all the
option of turning around and returning to Alta Novis. In fact, he did it more
than once, but we all refused.”

“Gee. If you’re that loyal to a friend, I can’t
imagine how passionate you would be toward a lover.”

They froze, their eyes locked. Tension suddenly
rose up between them like an invisible yet tangible web, drawing them closer
together in the little boat that was barely big enough for the both of them.
Mastin stared into her dark eyes, searching for some sign or hidden meaning
behind her last words. Her face drew closer, filling his vision and his whole
world until he realized he was leaning toward her. His gaze dropped to her
lips, which she bit with nervous anticipation.

Suddenly she jerked backwards, her eyes wide with
shock.

“Oh, dear Stephen,
no!
”