Read The Battle Lord Saga 02 - Her Battle Lord's Desire Online
Authors: Linda Mooney
of yours this morning? Diad said he had at least two mugs of that stuff. And considering how
he’s never had any before last night, it’s probably kicking him in the teeth this morning.”
Atty grinned. “I’m hoping some coffee will help. Can I take a tray back to the tent,
please?”
“Sure! I’ll get it ready for you.” The woman ambled off, leaving Atty time to glance
around the compound.
Over at the farthest end, at the last table, she spotted MaGrath hunched over a cup of
coffee, looking like the last day of a two-week journey. Without a doubt he’d had more than two
mugs of the verbossa, and her heart went out to him.
There was a branch of small purple leaves sitting in a bowl on a nearby table. Atty
wondered if the physician was aware of montrosse, but just in case he didn’t, she snapped one off
a stem and took it over to him.
The man didn’t seem aware of her approaching. He remained still, unmoving over his
cooling mug of coffee, his eyes tightly shut against the daylight. Carefully, Atty leaned over and
pressed her lips to his cheek. His skin felt hot. Tucking the leaf into the palm of his hand, she
whispered, “Chew this and swallow it down with some coffee. I love you. Talk to you later.”
Leaving him alone, she went back to get another leaf just as Epiphany returned with a full
tray. Atty thanked her and took it back to the tent where her Ballock and her newly acquired
saber were lying right at the doorway. Slipping them into her belt, she eased the tray around the
sword as she ducked through the door flap.
While she’d been gone, Yulen had managed to slip on a clean pair of pants and wash his
face. She handed him the leaf and a cup of coffee, and gave him the same instructions as she’d
given the physician. “Chew this and swallow it down with some coffee.”
“Let me guess. A male contraceptive?”
Atty gave him a wary look, until she noticed the twinkle in his bloodshot eyes. “Very
funny. How do you feel?”
“Obviously worse than you do. Are you suffering any side effects this morning?”
“I didn’t have as much as you. Besides, it’s not the verbossa I’m suffering side effects
from.” Before he could find a decent comeback, she held up the saber to show it to him. Yulen
gave it an appreciative look.
“It’s a beautiful piece. Are you planning on keeping it?”
“No. I just want him to squirm a bit for making that crack he made last night. Before we
go home, I’ll give it back to him.” She tossed it to one side before handing him the large slice of
bread she’d spread with butter and jam. Yulen took it from her and stopped to stare at it. “Trust
me, my love. The montrosse leaf will settle your stomach enough to allow you to eat. So eat.
You’ll need your strength.”
Yulen obliged by biting into the bread. “Need my strength for what?”
“For what I have planned for you.” Atty gave him a wink over the rim of her cup.
Seeing her invitation, Yulen proceeded to crawl over the short distance separating them,
when Atty suddenly held up her hand in the signal for silence. He froze, straining his ears to hear
what had alerted her. Several seconds passed before she lowered her hand.
“What?” he asked her.
“I thought someone was coming to the tent.”
“Don’t worry. They won’t enter.”
“You’re sure?” she asked him. She moved over to where they could sit side-by-side with
the tray in front of them.
Yulen nodded. “They won’t come in as long as the door’s locked.”
A giggle escaped her. “The what?”
Her husband smiled at her over his coffee. “Didn’t you notice the lock on the door when
you left?”
“Oh, you mean your sword in the ground?”
Chuckling, Yulen explained, “It’s something my father used to do. As long as the sword
is there, no one is allowed entrance into the tent. No one. It also meant that, when I was a kid, I
wasn’t allowed to leave the tent until he removed it.”
“Let me guess. You left anyway.”
“Oh, yeah,” he smiled. “Got my butt whipped for it, too.”
Atty laughed. “Gee, now that sounds like something
I
would do!”
Yulen reached over to brush a lock of her hair over her shoulder. Lovingly he stared at
his wife, then leaned over to give her the good morning kiss she’d mentioned the night before.
She fit perfectly against him as she reached up lay a hand on the thin scar running down the side
of his face. Pulling back, he caressed her cheek with his knuckles.
“Sometimes I wish I could have found you earlier. Maybe grown up with you. Seen what
your life had been like when you were a child. I wish I could have met your parents, and known
how remarkable they were to create someone like you.”
“No you don’t. I was obnoxious growing up. Always a pain. Always giving my parents
fits because I wouldn’t fit the traditional mold,” she smiled.
“You still don’t,” Yulen told her. “That’s probably the reason why I was drawn to you in
the first place.” He refilled his mug from the small pottle on the tray. Pausing for a moment, he
tilted his head in that way she knew he did whenever he was thinking. Or listening.
“Your men must think something’s wrong since you haven’t left the tent yet. I know
some of the Council men are probably chomping at the bit, waiting for you to come out.”
“No rest for the weary?” He snorted softly and drained his mug. “Guess I’ll have to get
up, then, and get to work.”
Atty reached out to move the tray out of his way so it wouldn’t get knocked over, when
she suddenly found herself being lifted and pushed back into the pillows behind them. Gasping
from his strength and the gentleness of his hands holding her around her waist, she stared up into
eyes that were heavily-lidded with desire. His kiss tasted of coffee and honey, and she found
herself tonguing his sweetness with eagerness.
“I thought you said you had to get up and go to work,” she finally managed to say when
he let her up for air. A slow grin creased his face as he began to unbutton her pants with slow,
deliberate movements.
“I lied.”
It was nearly an hour later when Yulen exited the tent, leaving Atty behind to debate
whether she wanted to take a quick mid-morning nap, or go ahead and face the rest of the day.
As he’d suspected, several of the Council members were waiting in the courtyard for him.
Nearing the table, he saw Fortune Kalich shake his head.
“I told you to watch out for that verbossa. It has a mean kick.”
“You neglected to tell me it also likes to nail you to the floor,” Yulen laughed.
“Did Atty give you some montrosse to counteract it?” Twoson inquired.
“You mean a little purple leaf? Yeah, she gave me one. Which reminds me.” He glanced
around to see if he could spot MaGrath anywhere nearby. “You haven’t seen my physician this
morning, have you?”
“I saw him and Gilter leave a few minutes ago,” Vogel admitted. “They went out the main
gates. My guess is they’re out collecting plants.”
Nodding, Yulen pulled out the large diagram of the compound from beneath the pile of
other drawings and placed it on top. “All right, gentlemen. Now that the celebration is over, and
I’ve made my intentions clear as to the future of Wallis, let’s get down to business and discuss the
rest of these changes I propose. I want the men to get started immediately on buttressing the
walls. The rest can wait until that’s finished.”
The Councilmen gathered closer around the table. They had six months to either accept
or reject what the Battle Lord had planned for the compound. Six months before they had to
decide whether to become a permanent holding under the absolute command of this man, or to go
back to their old way of life. Very few of them had any doubts as to what the final outcome
would be.
As they discussed each separate issue he brought up, and compromises were met, Yulen
kept one eye open for Atty. Last night and that morning had done little to assuage his hunger for
her. On the contrary, making love with her had increased his need. He deliberately had left the
scent of her on his skin and hair, although he knew it was risky. Some of these Mutah could
probably tell how intimate they had been, but at the moment Yulen didn’t care. All he had to do
was close his eyes and he could relive her like gentle strokes across his nerves. There were times
when the mere sight of her was enough to turn him into a pool of lust.
He remembered the men laughing, telling him the fire would go out after a few months.
By year’s end he wouldn’t find her sassiness as endearing, they’d promised. A tiny smile curled
both corners of his mouth. They were wrong. So damn wrong. A look or a touch, or the feel of
her hair sliding against his cheek—the only time he felt complete was when he held her in his
arms. The only time he felt worthy was when she craved him as much as he did her. The only
time he could forget his responsibilities as a Battle Lord was when they were literally glued to
each other, inside each other, and Atty was panting his name over and over in time with his
thrusts.
A shudder ran through him.
Careful,
he warned himself.
A little more concentration on
the matter at hand, and you can reward yourself later.
If he didn’t pull his attention back to what he needed to do, the consequences could be devastating.
So it was with great relief when Andolph nonchalantly remarked that they needed to
release the table to the womenfolk in order for them to finish getting things ready for lunch.
Yulen caught the flare of the man’s nostrils as he walked past him and gave him a hooded glance.
The man with the head full of dimples knew. Good. Maybe these people needed more than their
eyes to realize that what he and Atty had was greater than anything they were used to seeing.
Straightening his shoulders, Yulen began rolling up the papers as the Council members
went off to their individual households when a low voice behind him asked, “Yulen, do you have a
few minutes?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “A few. How do you feel this morning, Liam?”
The physician walked up and leaned against the edge of the table. “I feel exceptional,
considering how sick I was this morning. Since then I’ve learned about the miraculous healing
properties of a little purple leaf from a plant called the montrosse, thanks to Atty.”
Yulen peered at him over the bundle he was tying. “She was the one who gave it to you?”
“Yeah.” MaGrath bowed his head, searching for a good way to phrase his next statement.
Yulen saw the indecision on the man’s face and remained silent, waiting.
“Are you going to be much longer? I have to get a few things off my chest with you.”
“I’m done here for now. Sure you don’t want to go somewhere more private?”
“No. I’d like to stretch my legs a bit more, if you don’t mind,” the older man said.
Yulen covered the rolled-up papers with a length of hide someone had offered to help
keep the rain and morning moisture off the work. Having reassured himself things would be okay
until he returned, he followed his old friend toward the rear section of the compound, behind
where the apartment homes lined narrow streets.
They walked for some time, giving Yulen a chance to quietly observe the scenery. As he
always did, he let MaGrath begin the conversation.
“Have you noticed how many children there are in Wallis?”
Raising an eyebrow, his first question to himself was to wonder where the physician was
going with this. “Not really.”
“There are seven young adults from the age of nineteen to thirteen. Seven teenagers,
including Atty. I’m including her as she’s the only twenty-year-old on their census. There are
five children from twelve to six. There were six, but you know about Atty’s sister, Keelor. And,
to avoid any more guilt, there were the four our men slaughtered when we invaded five months
ago.” He cleared his throat, giving himself a chance to collect himself. “And from ages five to
one there are three children. Know how many infants there are under the age of one? Just two.
There were three, but there was a death just a couple of weeks ago. That’s seventeen children left
total in a compound of over two hundred and fifty adults. Twenty-three children born in the last
twenty years. That’s barely one per year.”
Nodding, Yulen asked, “What are you trying to tell me, Liam?”
“This compound’s dying. The number of births isn’t keeping up with the number of
deaths. Give or take three or four generations, if Wallis remains heading in the same direction it
has been these past years, the town will become nonexistent.” MaGrath scratched his head.
“Gilter has been an enormous help bringing me up to speed on Mutah physiology. To be frank,
Yulen, the man believes the Mutah population is slowly dying out, and I’m inclined to agree with
him. Their newborn mortality rate is almost eighty percent. Greater than three of out every four
births ends in death before the age of one.”
Yulen stopped to stare at the man. MaGrath noticed the man’s inaction, and paused to
turn and look back.
“What you’re saying is that, even without the contraceptive you gave her last night, the
chances of Atty getting pregnant are very slim. Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”