The Battle Lord Saga 02 - Her Battle Lord's Desire (10 page)

to wander off to where his horse was tied alongside Yulen’s.

Looking back at her husband, she saw where he was waiting for her signal. An unspoken

question passed between them.

How many?

She masked her shrug by rolling her head around, as if trying to get rid of the tenseness in

her neck. The queasy sensation in the pit of her stomach was growing. She was the prey now

instead of the huntress, and it was a feeling she hated more than she feared. Atty clung to that

hatred and allowed it to fuel her anger.

Now she was relying solely on her instincts. The Bloods were staying downwind from

them, preventing her from catching any part of their fetid stench. Bending over, she laid her plate

on the ground as if she planned to reach for a second helping. She paused, closing her eyes, and

allowed that part of her which was the ultimate hunter to take over.

A second later she hurled the dagger into the bushes across the road. A gray-skinned

Blood erupted from his cover with a high-pitched scream, the blade of the Ballock embedded in

his right eye socket up to the hilt. Before he hit the dirt, she was running for her other weapon.

The soldiers spilled into the road as the wall of Bloods jumped from their cover. Their

advantage of a surprise attack had been foiled, forcing them to try and compensate with the full

force of their numbers. Unfortunately they had grossly underestimated their enemy. Thinking the

caravan was merely a minor militia on the road, the Bloods had expected little resistance. What

they hadn’t planned on was meeting over two hundred highly trained and mostly seasoned

warriors, or the arrow-spewing Mutah woman who brought them down like shaking apples from

a tree.

The skirmish was over within minutes.

Atty flexed her fingers as the adrenalin continued to pump through her. She was breathing

heavily as she scanned the bodies lying in the dirt, watching for some sign or movement that

would alert her to a still-living enemy. At the last second she heard the footsteps behind her, and

she whirled around, crouching low, arrow nocked. Expecting her reaction, Yulen expertly

knocked the longbow aside and pulled her against his chest with his free hand. Without a struggle

she gratefully surrendered to his kiss as she felt his tension and worry drain away. They were

both splattered with blood. His left hand and arm, and the sword he still gripped, were coated in

ichor. Finally releasing her, he stepped back as Mastin and five others approached to relay their

reports.

“So far no casualties,” Mastin told the Battle Lord. Glancing at Atty, he asked, “How’d

you know?”

“She just does,” Yulen told his Second. “How many injured?”

“Three, two seriously. MaGrath is tending to them as we speak.”

“Did any Bloods survive?” Atty inquired.

The Second shook his head. “None that we know of. Why?”

“For questioning,” Yulen again answered for her. “I’d like to know how long they’d been

tailing us, or if they’d just now come across us.”

Atty laid a hand on his chest. “Fortune and Bertrand.”

He nodded his head. “They’re experienced. Didn’t you tell me they were the cream of the

caste? If they’d come across them, I’m certain they would have avoided detection. Don’t worry

about them, Atty.”

“What do you want us to do with the dead? Leave them be?” Mastin inquired.

“No. Drag them into the forest. Let the scavengers have a feast, if they’ll have them.

Order the men to clean their weapons and remount. We need to make up lost time.”

After the men had left to follow through, Atty felt his arm where it rested around her waist

give her a squeeze. She looked up into his pale face. “Stay beside me the rest of the way?”

“What if they try to attack us from the rear?” she asked.

“I’ll put Mastin back there. I want you where I can keep my eye on you,” Yulen ordered.

Smiling, Atty reached up to touch his scar with a fingertip. “I miss you,” she whispered so

only he could hear.

“Not as much as I miss you,” he whispered back. “It’s been a ghastly day so far. Please,

don’t make us wait any longer than we must.”

“I promise. Once we reach Wallis and everything is resolved...” She left her comment

open. She didn’t need to tell him what would happen after their arrival. He knew as well as she

did that her self-imposed celibacy would end. And, needless to say, neither one of them would

get any sleep that night.

Fortune and Bertrand returned to the caravan by mid-afternoon. Both horses were

burdened down with over fifty rabbits and squirrels, which Yulen ordered taken to the fourth

wagon to be cleaned and gutted and prepared for supper that evening, rather than having to do it

when he decided to break for camp.

Both Mutah hunters had been unaware of the Bloods, or of the attack on the caravan.

Apparently they had just missed being detected by the deviants.

“Do you think they could have been an advance party?” Mastin voiced aloud.

“There’s no rhyme or reason to what they do,” Atty spat. “But I’m willing to guess they

were attracted by our fires and happened upon us. No way they would have attacked our men

with so few in number if they’d been aware of our true size.” She glanced over at her husband.

“I wonder if they were part of the group responsible for laying siege to Wallis.”

“Well, until we can capture and question one, we’ll never know,” Yulen told her. “I’m

going to check on the injured. Stay here until I get back,” he told her. Gesturing to Mastin with

a tilt of his head, the Battle Lord galloped back to where MaGrath was caring for the wounded

men.

Atty looked down at her once-white tunic and wrinkled her nose. At times like this she

wished she could be like the men and just change into a clean shirt. Instead, it would have to wait

until they set up camp for the evening.

“You’re pretty astonishing, if you don’t mind my saying so,” the Second confessed.

She looked at him, eyes wide. “Why would you say that? Because I was aware of the

Bloods before anyone else?”

“Because you act as if what you do is the most natural thing in the world. Isn’t there

anything you can’t do that you wish you could? Or anything you’ve never been able to

accomplish?”

“Oh, yeah,” she laughed lightly. “Lots of things.”

“Like what?”

“Like, I’d make a pretty poor housewife if I was forced to fit that role. My mother could

sew and keep house and do all those things you’d expect a wife and mother to do, and she did it

all so easily. Me, I can truss up wild turkey or pig before cooking it, but my handiwork is crude.

I’ll sweep a floor, but the rest of it...” She gave an exaggerated shudder. “Ugh. No thanks. That

was one of the biggest reasons why I took my oath of chastity when I became a hunter. There

was no way I was going to be someone’s wife if it meant having to do all those menial tasks that

would keep me tied to being indoors and out of the fresh air where I wanted to be.”

“But you don’t have to worry about any of that, being the Battle Lord’s Lady,” the

Second pointed out.

Atty gave him a small smile. “To be honest, Cole? I never thought about any of that

when Yulen told me what he had planned for us.” At Mastin’s upraised eyebrow, she nodded.

Other than her husband and Liam, and in some respect, Madigan, Cole Mastin was the only other

person who knew the truth behind her and Yulen’s history.

“So, pardon my asking, Madam—”

“Atty. I want you to call me Atty. Madam is Madigan,” she laughed softly.

Mastin grinned. “Okay. So, pardon my asking, Atty, but you agreed to marry the Battle

Lord, even though you detested the thought of what you might have to do? I don’t understand.”

“You have it wrong. I didn’t agree to marry him despite what I thought being a wife

would entail. I’m saying the whole idea never entered my mind when I said yes.”

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“You were willing to give up your entire way of life, without a second thought?”

“Scary, isn’t it?” she grinned at him. “And on top of that, there was all that nonsense

about me losing my abilities if I gave up my virtue.”

“But you believed it,” he reminded her.

“Hell, we
all
believed it.” She wiped an errant lock of hair out of her face and glanced up

at the sky. The clouds were beginning to grow darker, threatening rain and perhaps another

chilling wind. From the corner of her eye she saw him slowly shaking his head. “What?” she

asked.

“I was just hoping that when I fall in love, the woman I choose will feel that same way

about me.”

Impulsively she leaned over in her saddle to give his shoulder a quick squeeze. If she

could have reached his cheek to kiss it, she would have. “Thank you, Cole. I think that’s the

sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Amazingly, Mastin’s face turned a bright red. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to check on the

men at the rear.” Instead of taking his place at the tail of the caravan, as Yulen had ordered once

they were again on their way, he had convinced the Battle Lord to put two of his most trusted

lieutenants there. The suggestion seemed to satisfy the man.

Atty watched him back away and turn around to wait for the line to pass. The little talk

with him seemed to have buoyed her mood, and she didn’t actually detest the weather when it

finally began to drizzle. Digging her hands into the pockets of her furry vest, she led point until

Yulen joined her nearly an hour later.

Because of the weather, he called for an early stop when they reached a large grove of

sycamore. All throughout their traveling Atty had been enjoying the patchwork of color in the

changing leaves. For some reason she loved the fall, although she wasn’t so keen on the winter,

just because of the brutal cold. If Yulen planned on having their new home finished by December,

he’d better hope they had a mild winter, or at least a long span of tolerable working days.

As she started the fire and began to prepare a rabbit the way she knew he liked it, she

watched as four men under Mastin’s watchful eye quickly erected her tent in a nearby clearing.

She was unaware of her humming until MaGrath joined her.

“Oh, my, aren’t we in a good mood this evening.” He held out his hands to the fire.

“Egads, but it’s going to be a bitch tonight.”

She hesitated. “What is?”

“The rain. Not to mention the possibility of another cold front. You know, Atty,

normally we don’t make these treks this time of year. The weather can get real nasty in a hurry.”

He motioned toward the rabbit with a movement of his head. “What are you serving with it?”

“I don’t know yet. I need to go out and see what I can rustle up.” Getting to her feet, she

wiped her hands on the thighs of her pants. “Can you watch the meat while I’m gone?”

“Sure. Just don’t be long. Old men need their company.”

Snickering, Atty grabbed her bow and quiver and disappeared into the forest. MaGrath

didn’t have to wait long before the Battle Lord joined him.

“Where’s Atty?”

“Out hunting for vegetables. Pesky little things. You have to run them into the ground

before they’ll surrender.”

Yulen chuckled out loud. “Stay by the fire, old man. Keep your bones warm.”

“Where are you going?” MaGrath asked, seeing the man heading into the forest himself.

“To see if she needs any help,” came the enigmatic answer.

Making a face, MaGrath wrote them off, knowing it would be at least an hour before they

emerged from their token search. Supper would be late again, but this would be a good time to

run an inventory on the contents of his medical bag. He didn’t want to touch the crate of supplies

he was taking to Wallis if he didn’t have to, but another run-in with the Bloods might force him

to.

* * * *

Yulen paused when he was far enough away from the light of the campfires to shut his

eyes and wait a few seconds before opening them. After they had adjusted to the darkness, he

advanced further into the deepening gloom, listening for where Atty might be. Knowing she was

searching for roots and vegetables, he told himself she wouldn’t have wandered too far off. Sure

enough, he spotted her just beyond a strand of poplar. She was kneeling down, picking a few

leaves and bringing them to her nose. Quietly he leaned against a tree to watch and observe. At

almost the same time she glanced up and saw him from across the way, a pale gold figure in the

moonlight.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than stalk me?” she asked dryly. She spoke low,

but the sound carried.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I just wanted to convey the men’s thanks to you.”

“For what?”

“For spotting the Bloods. We could have suffered many more casualties if you hadn’t

sensed them when you did.”

“Tell them they’re welcome. Look. I found some wild mint. This’ll go well with the

rabbit.”

He walked over to where she knelt and crouched beside her. Taking the sprig from her

hand, he twirled it between his thumb and forefinger, sniffing it while she picked more of the herb.

“Atrilan.”

When she glanced up in surprise, he leaned over to taste her lips, now cold and wet with