The Battle Lord's Lady (38 page)

“Are we going to take all three days to get
home?” she asked, reluctantly pulling on her pants.

“I might speed up the pace a bit,” he smiled,
pausing. “Atty? Do me a favor and wear your hair down today?”

She glanced up at him, her eyes wide.
Standing there, clad in just her pants and boots, her hair flowed
over her naked shoulders to drape and curl just under her breasts.
To Yulen, she resembled an untamed forest nymph.

“Are you nuts?” she asked. “On the trail?
With the wind blowing and the dust flying? What if I compromise and
just pull it back instead of braiding it?”

An untamed forest nymph with
an attitude,
he quickly corrected himself with a
smile. Shrugging, he belted on his sword. “It was just an
idea
,” he echoed, grinning. He walked
over to give her a soft kiss. “I’ll be outside waiting for you,” he
said, then disappeared under the door flaps, leaving her alone to
finish dressing.

Mastin was first to see the Battle Lord
striding over toward his campfire in the early morning sunshine,
and went over to relay the information he’d just received from Karv
at the compound.

“It looks like your hunch played out,” the
Second informed him. “The large majority of inhabitants of
Bearinger had no love for Collaunt, other than the expected handful
who’d profited with the man during his reign. There shouldn’t be
too much trouble having them swear their allegiance to Alta Novis,
especially in light of what your lady did yesterday.”

Yulen stopped in his tracks to give Mastin a
questioning look. Mastin nodded. “They want to know who she is. And
if she’s really...well...”

“They want to know if she’s Mutah,” Yulen
finished for him.

“Well...yes, sir.”

“Tell them the truth, Cole. I’ve nothing to
hide.”

The Second nodded and watched as Yulen
proceeded to his campfire.

As expected, the Battle Lord found MaGrath
already eating breakfast before the fire. The physician cast him a
wary eye before handing him a mug of hot coffee. Yulen stared at
the beverage, then at the man.

“A couple of the soldiers discovered several
bags of it in the kitchen while they were doing inventory last
night,” MaGrath commented. “Apparently Collaunt had it shipped up
from the Louisy Provinces. Drink up. I’d forgotten how much I’d
missed it.”

Yulen took a sip, feeling the stimulant
giving him a better hold on his senses as it drifted into his empty
stomach. He’d need all the help he could to keep his wits about him
today. Taking a seat, he accepted the plate handed him.

“Will Madigan be joining us soon?” he asked
almost casually.

“Ah. A son’s way of asking ‘Where is my
mother?’. Yes, she’ll be along shortly. She said she had something
to do. Something to make. I don’t know the specifics and I didn’t
ask.”

MaGrath glanced back up at Yulen, and the
Battle Lord instantly knew the man had something to divulge. “Spill
it, Liam, before you bust a gut.” The physician let out a sigh and
put down his plate. Yulen made a dramatic face at the gesture. “Oh,
good God, it’s something earth-shattering. Shall I seek shelter
now? Is it too late for last rites?”

“Just shut up and listen to me for a minute,”
the man said firmly but in a low voice.

“Okay. You have my undivided attention.”

“Your mother and I...” He stopped, searching
for the right words.

Yulen chuckled and went back to his
breakfast. “It’s about damn time.”

MaGrath’s eyes flew open. “You knew?”

“I’ve been watching you two dancing around
each other for I don’t know how long,” Yulen grinned. “I’ve always
known how you felt about her. And, let me tell you, there were many
a time I almost dragged you both into a bedroom and bolted the
door, and not let you out until I was certain you’d had a meeting
of the minds...or something more profound.”

“Yulen!”

The Battle Lord laughed aloud. “You’re such a
paradox, Liam! For a man with the wisdom of Solomon, you can be
incredibly stupid.”

“Fine words coming from you.”

“Okay, I admit it. I have my moments as
well,” Yulen admitted, smiling. “So, did you and Madigan share a
blanket last night?”

“Fine
crude
words,” MaGrath amended.

“And the pot is calling this kettle black.
You probably know more about my love life than I do. Pour me
another cup of that coffee before I get up and ask Mother
myself.”

“Stay seated and eat your breakfast.
Speaking of love life, how
is
Atty this morning?” He refilled the man’s cup before going
back to his own breakfast.

“Atty is doing fine,” a voice behind him
stated, and the physician felt a kiss on top of his head.

MaGrath watched the warrior
girl—
wait, not any more
, he
told himself—warrior
woman
walk around the fire to drop a similar kiss on Yulen’s
head.

“All right. I’m up. I’m dressed. And I’m
packed and ready to go. Satisfied now?” she asked him in a halfway
teasing tone of voice. She snatched a piece of meat from his plate
and began to nibble on it.

“You’re also hungry,” Yulen told her. “Sit
down and have a plate.”

“God, you’ve gotten so bossy,” she snickered,
parking herself on the fallen log next to him. “By the way, good
morning, Liam.”

“Good morning. Sleep well?” MaGrath grinned,
avoiding Yulen’s cautioning look.

“Yeah, when we
slept
,” she mentioned nonchalantly as she started
on her own breakfast. MaGrath choked on his coffee, trying to keep
from bursting out laughing.

Atty looked around as she stuffed another
piece of meat into her mouth. Glancing at Yulen, she finally asked,
“Where’s Madigan?”

He shrugged. “She’ll be along shortly. Why do
you ask? I don’t think you’ll have to worry about her again, not
after last night.” He watched her lean over to see what he was
drinking. “It’s coffee. Ever had any?”

“Real coffee?”

“The real stuff,” MaGrath confirmed. “Want
some?”

Atty took Yulen’s mug from his hand and took
a tentative sip. Her face showed her displeasure. “Ugh! It’s
bitter!”

“Try it next time with a little
sweetener, like honey,” Yulen advised, smiling. “Trust me. It’ll
perk you up when you haven’t had enough
sleep
.”

She looked up to catch his wink, then
accepted his quick kiss before he left them to check on the
progress of the caravan. Sighing, she got a drink from his water
bag instead. Lowering the skin, she noticed MaGrath’s eyes were
still on her.

“What, Liam? Did I grow an extra arm or
something overnight?”

“Are you really all right, Atty?”

“You mean other than being sore as the
dickens?”

This time he didn’t try to hide his smile.
“Will you be able to make it through today?”

“Speak your mind, Liam,” she said
flatly. “I’m still a bit woozy-headed. And, contrary to popular
myth, all caste hunters are not necessarily early risers
or
morning people.”

“Never mind. Just remember I have some
powders you can take if your face gives you any problems, or you
get to feeling any undue discomfort or...cramping.”

Atty narrowed her eyes at him. “Uh-huh. I
see. Okay. Thanks for the offer.”

She watched him leave and hurried to finish
her meal. The camp was breaking down quicker than usual, and she’d
just managed to wash up afterward in the little stream when Yulen
brought her the mare. Together they mounted their horses, when Atty
paused, pulling back on the reins. Yulen turned around to see what
was keeping her.

“Atty?”

“Yulen...”

He grew concerned over her hesitancy. It
wasn’t like her. “What’s wrong?”

“I...I don’t think I’m going to be able to
withstand this all day,” she admitted softly. There was a definite
paleness around the edges of her mouth that hadn’t been there
earlier.

Moving his horse closer, he leaned over her.
“Atrilan?” he whispered. He glanced over her, trying to figure out
what had stopped her cold, when it suddenly became evident to
him.

“Yul?”

They hadn’t seen Madigan come up beside the
horses until she’d spoken. Now her presence was an unexpected and
unwanted interruption.

Madigan saw the angry expression on her son’s
face, and hurried to avoid the command she knew was coming. “May I
speak to Atty? Alone? Please? It’ll only take a minute, I promise.”
She looked at the warrior woman, hoping to relay the urgency of her
request. To her relief, Atty gave Yulen a nod of acceptance, and he
backed up his horse to wait and watch from a few feet away.

She went over to address the woman on the
saddle. “What I want to say to you is private, but I promise it’s
sincere,” she whispered.

“What’s so private you can’t mention it in
front of Yulen?” Atty asked her.

Reaching inside the pocket of her gown, the
older woman pulled out a small, wrapped package and pressed it into
the palm of the warrior woman’s hand. Atty stared at it
blankly.

“I remember my first time,” Madigan told her
softly. “I also remember the discomfort afterward. But fortunately
I had someone who helped me through those rough first few days.
Take this poultice and place it inside you where the pain is the
greatest. It’ll give you comfort for most of the day. Then,
tonight, I’ll tell you how to make it yourself, case you ever need
another one.”

She patted Atty on the knee, then turned and
went to gather her horse. Yulen watched her leave, and when he
turned back around, Atty was standing behind her horse. A moment
later, she swung back into the saddle and settled in, pausing to
adjust how she sat.

“What was that Madigan gave you?” he asked,
pulling up next to her.

“A poultice of some kind. It’s supposed to
help.” Atty managed a small grin. “So far, so good. Let’s hope it
works.” Kneeing her horse, she hurried off, leaving him confused
but willing to be satisfied with her answer.

Chapter Forty-One

Clearing

The caravan made good time, and had traveled
quite a distance before Yulen called for the midday halt. At one
point during their ride, Atty had suddenly thrown the reins of her
horse at Mastin and jumped out the saddle, dashing for the trees
lining the edge of the road. Liam and Madigan glanced at Yulen, who
shrugged.

A short distance down the road they found her
sitting, waiting for them, a big grin on her face, and a brace of
wild turkeys slung over her shoulder. Yulen started to ask her how
she’d managed to kill them, considering she didn’t have her bow
with her, when he saw her casually tossing a dagger into the air
and catching it by the blade. Her Ballock dagger. He’d completely
forgotten about having it. A quick look down at his belt proved him
right.

“And how, pray tell, do you plan on cooking
those?” he asked as he watched her climb back aboard her horse. It
was enough meat for the entire company.

“Oh, these are for supper,” she called over
her shoulder at him as she settled the birds over the back of his
saddlebags, then got back to her place in line.

He realized she kept the dagger, tucking it
into the front waistband of her pants sans sheath. A dangerous move
if she’d been a man, he thought with a grin.

“I brought the Ballock’s scabbard, if you
want it. It’s in the saddlebag.”

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

For most of the trip MaGrath and Madigan rode
together, separated from the rest of the line. Yulen pointed them
out to Atty. “They’ve been lovers in every sense of the word,
except the physical one. I think that’s come to an end.”

“You hope?” she asked him, smiling.

“Mother loved my father passionately,
but I think she’s grieved too long. She’s still young. She needs
some light in her life. Some love. If it had been anyone else, I
would have objected strongly. But she and Liam grew up together. To
be honest, I’ve always thought that if Liam hadn’t gone to Far
Troit to become a physician,
he
would have fathered me.”

Atty’s eyes studied his face. An infinite
sadness began to descend over her, and Yulen realized there was
still so much about her past that he didn’t know about.

“Atty, I think now’s the time we start to get
to know one another better,” he suggested in a softer tone.

“I thought we’ve already done that pretty
thoroughly,” she smiled, teasing.

“You know what I mean. I want to know about
your life before I found you. What kind of child were you? Who
taught you to hunt and cook? Didn’t you do the things the other
little girls did? Tell me about your family, your mother, your
father. Do you have siblings?”

He watched as two tears dripped in succession
from the corner of one eye.

“When you’re ready,” he amended gently.
“There’s no rush. After all, we have plans to make once we return
to Alta Novis.”

Atty sniffed. “What kind of plans?”

“Well, if I’m not mistaken, I thought you
agreed to marry me.”

The look on her face was priceless.
“You
meant
it? You still
do?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He frowned. “What? Did you
think it was just pillow talk?”

“I don’t know
what
to think, Yulen D’Jacques.”