The Battle Lord Saga 02 - Her Battle Lord's Desire (33 page)

BOOK: The Battle Lord Saga 02 - Her Battle Lord's Desire
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years, after all these decades, to possibly lose her in a Blood ambush...

“I don’t know, and I don’t want to think about it. We have the advantage right now, and

we’re going to have to push to keep it. The Bloods are traveling through the forest to reach Alta

Novis. Or, if their main forces are already there, waiting for word that it’s time to strike. By

staying on the road, we’ll be able to move faster than them. I would even hazard to guess they’ve

made at least one or two preemptive attempts to see where our weaknesses lie.” He rubbed his

face with his hands, exhaustion written in every muscle of his body. “Oh, God, how could I have

been such an idiot?”

“You are not the idiot, my beloved,” Atty whispered. “We’ve all been duped. It took

your wisdom to see through their deceit.” She sat up and looked to Mastin. “We leave at first

light?”

“It’s going to take some time to get everything rounded up and packed,” Yulen reminded

her. “In this thunderstorm, that’s going to take longer than normal.”

She got to her feet. “Then we need to get started now, don’t you agree?” Smiling, she

held out her hand to help him to his feet. Yulen grinned and accepted her offer. Mastin quickly

stood as well.

“Guess it’s back into the rain, right, sir?” the Second managed a small smile.

Yulen groaned softly, thinking about the chilling effect of the weather this time of year.

“Well, I for one know I’ll just be in everyone’s way,” MaGrath announced, holding his

hands over the brazier, seeking the warmth of its fire. “So if anyone needs me, I’ll be right here.”

“Liam, remind me to demote you when we get home,” Yulen half-jokingly threw at him as

he pulled on a heavier, dry tunic.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” the physician grumbled as the Battle Lord followed Atty out into the

night. But deep inside he had a lot bigger reason for wanting to remain inside the snug, warm

tent. For some reason he felt safer being here. And at peace. Next to Maddy, Yulen and Atty

were his family. This tent was their home, their refuge, their love nest, and their sanctuary. After

hearing Yulen’s plans, an icy hand had found its way inside him and closed its fingers around his

heart, and for the first time in many, many,
many
years, MaGrath was terrified as to what might

happen in the next few days. Remaining in the tent helped to calm the shaking of his hands. It

also allowed him the chance to catch a mental breath and assess what he needed to do.

Before he knew it, the physician was sound asleep on one of the rugs, oblivious to the

commotion taking place outside.

Chapter Twenty-Eight
Return Trip

The rain continued to fall, but without the gusts of wind that could knock one over. If the

weather had been any cooler, it might have been snow falling out of the sky instead of the hard,

nearly sleet-like pellets. Instead, the cold and heavy dreariness of the clouds overhead only

seemed to make their need to return to Alta Novis all the more urgent.

Atty said her hasty goodbyes to Tory and Fortune as Yulen finished giving last-minute

instructions to Twoson and the Council. The Battle Lord was leaving behind seventy-five soldiers

to help protect Wallis until he could determine his next plan of action. That wouldn’t come

about, however, until everyone knew what the Bloods intended.

Yulen ordered everyone into armor for the duration of the trip. Even Atty was given a

chain mail shirt to wear over her tunic. She instantly hated it, hated its smell and weight, despite

its ability to protect her. However, she grudgingly admitted it provided an extra barrier against

the cold. Yulen would take no chances of a surprise attack decimating their already thinned

ranks, and he made sure Atty realized she needed to ride within the core of their line for her own

protection. And to remain there for the sake of his sanity.

“Don’t begin to think you can wander off anytime you please, Atty. No hunting. No

tracking. Not this time. It’s going to be a long and dangerous ride back. For God’s sake, don’t

make me have to worry about you, on top of everything else. Promise me, my love. Give me

your word,” he begged.

She had promised, even though she detested not being able to talk to him or ride next to

him during their first day on the road. Sometimes MaGrath would ride with her to keep her

company, looking ostentatious in his own chain mail, and sometimes Mastin would break away to

spend a few minutes alongside. Otherwise she was surrounded and completely protected within a

phalanx of six heavily armed, armor-clad guardians.

When they broke for lunch, simply because the horses needed the chance to rest, Yulen

was finally able to spend a few minutes to grab a quick bite with her.

“I miss you,” she whispered when she managed to sit next to him. Like the rest of the

men he wore his helmet at all times now, yet it couldn’t hide the deep lines of worry creasing his

face in its shadows.

“It’s a small price to pay, Atrilan,” he murmured back, giving her hand a gentle squeeze

despite his metal glove. “Better to miss you now, than to lose you and miss you forever.”

They couldn’t kiss. The helmet prevented it. Atty cursed softly at the inconvenience, and

her irritation brought a small smile to the Battle Lord’s face. Chuckling, Yulen had them back on

the road exactly one hour later.

Once they had left Wallis and reemerged back onto the main road, the rain started to let

up. By the time they were ready to make camp for the night, the stars had managed to reappear

in the sky, but the air had turned colder.

Atty shivered and watched as her breath slipped from her mouth as little white puffs.

Yulen forbade the erection of the tent, which meant she’d have to spend the night in a bedroll by

the fire. Not that she hadn’t already spent many nights in the past curled in a tight little ball,

trying to keep from freezing. What she wanted more was the long warmth of her husband

keeping away the creeping cold.

It wasn’t until much later, after Yulen had posted double guards at each duty post, that

she felt an extra thick blanket being draped over her. Moments later he slid behind her into the

overly large bedroll, and snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her back against him.

“Your hands are like ice,” she giggled, rolling over and snuggling into his wide, muscular

chest.

“Then warm them up for me,” he breathed lightly into her ear. Reaching under the quilted

bedroll and blanket, his palm crept under her tunic to cup one firm breast. As he expected, Atty

pressed herself closer to him. With the fire at her back, he could see only the shadows of her face

as she buried her cold nose against his shoulder.

They were surrounded by over a hundred bedded down soldiers and twenty-four alert

guards. MaGrath was lightly snoring less than ten feet away, and the others were politely trying

to give them what privacy they could. Yulen smiled to himself. Despite the potential danger of a

surprise attack, and despite the fact that they would be sleeping fully-clothed and out in the open

every night until they reached Alta Novis, just having Atty in his arms was more than enough to

ease him into sleep. With her warm breath against his chest and tickling the hollow of his throat,

Yulen kissed her forehead and tried to rest.

* * * *

Atty opened her eyes and tried to make sense of where she was. She was warm, snug, and

dry. There was a pebble digging into her hip, but otherwise she was comfortable. Yulen was

holding her as he slept, one arm and hand along her back. Her eyes glanced up at his face, at the

peaceful strength in his features even with the long scar that arched from the outer edge of his

right eyebrow down to the corner of his mouth. For a second she wanted to kiss the lips mere

inches away from hers, but she decided against it. He needed the restorative power of sleep more

than she did.

Behind her the fire crackled and hissed as a log split and fell into the coals. She shifted

lazily and looked one last time up at her husband’s face—

It was the tiniest of movements up in the trees. A shadow on a shadow, not a trick of

firelight. Nor was it any kind of movement made by a limb or the rustling of the yellowing leaves.

There. About twenty or so yards away, where she could make it out just above where a

lock of his golden-red hair had fallen over his ear.

Atty lowered her lashes, feigning sleep, and waited. Just to make certain, she began to

count Yulen’s slow heartbeats. On the thirty-third beat, she saw the movement again. Without

realizing it, her whole body tensed, and she caught her breath.

The heartbeats sped up. “What?” he whispered so softly she could barely hear it. Atty

dropped her eyes to find his staring directly at her. “What?” he repeated, his body tensing. She

replied by rolling her eyes to the spot behind him. “Bloods?”

He pulled her closer, until their lips nearly touched. “Where’s your sword?” she

murmured.

“At my back. With my dagger.”

“Dagger’s no good. I need to get to my bow. But if it sees me, it’ll know.”

“The men?”

“Unaware. It came through the treetops.”

“Just one?”

Atty could feel his other hand flex its fingers where it lay between their bodies. Both of

hers had been curled at chest-level. “Follow my lead,” she whispered, her mouth teasing his.

Before he could reply, she started to roll over, like a sleeping form adjusting to a more

comfortable position. With her buttocks against his groin, Yulen stifled a moan at the contact and

tried to ignore the fantasies that reared up with the feel of her shifting hips.

Her weapon was between them and the fire. Using the blanket to cover her movements,

Atty slowly, very slowly, reached over until she grasped the longbow and a single arrow, drawing

it an inch at a time from the quiver so she wouldn’t alert the Blood. Right now Yulen’s body

was shielding most of what she was doing from the creature.

A few feet away, a guard noticed she was awake and flashed her a smile—and froze when

he understood what she was doing. His face paled, but otherwise he made no sound or sudden

gesture. A glance at the Battle Lord found the man’s eyes drilling into his before cutting back to

watch his wife.

Once she had the arrow nocked, Atty arched her back, whispering, “On three, jerk back

the blanket, and lie on your back as flat as you can.” His hand against her stomach withdrew to

clutch the thick quilt.

“One.”

The creature hadn’t moved. Her ears strained to listen for any further movement, but

there was none.

“Two.”

She prayed for a clear shot. Well, there was just one way she knew she would get one,

and that would be to draw its attention.


Three!
” she yelled.

Yulen threw back the quilt as he simultaneously rolled onto his back and flattened himself

against the ground. The longbow and arrow arched up and over as Atty rolled with it, until she

was facing the opposite direction, leaning over his chest, and aiming the weapon horizontally.


Hey, you! Monkey face!

A split second later the arrow went buzzing through the air. The Blood screeched as the

barb found the tender flesh of its lower abdomen, and the creature dropped from the tree to land

less than five feet away from a stunned guard.

The furred monstrosity continued to writhe and scream in pain from the gut shot as Atty

and Yulen ran over to join the small group already gathered around it. Bright blue blood pulsed

from the wound until the creature’s movements grew weaker.

“Check up in the trees for more of them!” Yulen barked to those on duty. The soldiers

jumped to obey.

“I think this one was alone,” Atty repeated. A hand on her hip drew her against him.

“I want to know how it got past our defenses,” Yulen growled. His eyes glittered as he

stared at his soldiers.

Mastin jogged up and joined them, fighting the last pull of deep sleep. “What happened?

What was that screaming?” Getting a better look, he gasped. “Oh, sweet heavens, where did that

come from?”

“It was up in the tree,” Yulen explained. “It came through the treetops.” He prodded the

still form with the tip of his sword. The creature didn’t respond, but that didn’t mean it was dead.

“Who saw it first?” Sorcher asked.

The Battle Lord motioned toward Atty. “I wasn’t sure at first,” she told them. “It was

too well hidden.”

“Sir!” a voice called from the other side of the encampment. The group started to go over

to join the soldier waving at them, when a slight motion on the ground alerted Yulen. The

creature reached out to snag Atty’s pants leg, unseen by anyone, as it made one last attempt in its

death throes. Its mouth opened wide, revealing a mouth full of yellowed, pointed canines, and it

lunged to bite the person responsible for its agony.

Atty stumbled, her leg caught in its grasp. As she whirled around to try and shake it

loose, Yulen lifted his sword with both hands and brought it down in one powerful stroke. The

blade sliced through the thing’s skull and through its mouth, until the finely-honed edge lay

embedded in the mossy ground between the jaws. Atty fell backwards, landing heavily on her

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