The Battle Lord's Lady (40 page)

Atty gave him a smile that showed she was
sorry. “I had to think, Yul. I had to go somewhere where I
could...” She sighed loudly. “I miss getting to go out in the
forest. I miss the quiet where I can think.” She glanced up at him
tearfully. “I miss my home. I miss my family. I miss not being able
t—”. Her breath caught in her throat, and she lifted her arms
toward him. Yulen pulled her against him, allowing her to have her
say without interruption.

“My mother and little sister went out to
gather firewood the day before you came. They never came home,”
Atty told him in a tiny voice. “I thought...at first I thought you
and your men had found them and captured or killed them.”

“What about your father?” he murmured into
her hair.

“Cleaners captured and killed him six years
ago.”

“So you were grieving over the loss of your
mother and sister the day we arrived?”

He felt her nod. It all made sense to him
now.

“You’re wishing your mother was alive to see
your wedding,” he told her.

“I wish this whole damn craziness between
your people and my people didn’t exist,” Atty replied heatedly. She
leaned back to stare at him. Smiling, Yulen poked a piece of meat
into her mouth and watched as she ate it.

“Maybe we can make that our lifelong
ambition,” he told her.

“What do you mean?” She took back the piece
of meat she’d given him and began to nibble on it.

“If you and I can live and love together,
perhaps we can convince others that, basically, we’re not so
different from each other. God knows your kind didn’t ask to be
singled out to be changed after the Great Concussion, and neither
did my kind ask to be left alone when all that craziness was going
on.”

“You’re nuts,” Atty told him, “but I love you
for thinking it.” Pulling away from him, she went back to fetch the
rest of the rabbit and brought it back to the bedroll where they
pulled pieces of meat from the carcass and ate as they talked.

“So, what else did you think about when you
went on your little jaunt today?” he asked her.

Atty shrugged and crossed her legs, giving
Yulen a pretty view of what was under her tunic. “The wedding.”

“And?”

“I can wear a white dress?”

“Mm-hmm. Madigan will have a tailor measure
you and make one just the way you want it.”

“Will you wear white, too?”

“I could, although I would prefer to wear
this formal tunic I own that I really like.”

“Why?”

He smiled. “Because it’s blue. The same color
as your hair.” He lifted a lock that had fallen over her shoulder
and brushed it back. She continued to gaze trustingly at him with
eyes now more blue than gray. “Morning glory hair. I’ll never be
able to look at a morning glory again without thinking of you.”

“A
sheared
morning glory,” she complained. Atty
reached behind at the nape of her neck to feel where Collaunt’s man
had cut her locks. “When we get back, I need to find someone who
can even this up.”

“Ask Mother,” Yulen suggested. “She used to
cut my hair when I was younger.” A look of surprise suddenly passed
over his face, and he got a twinkle in his eye. “I think I just
figured out what to give you for a wedding present,” he told
her.

Atty rolled her eyes. “Oh, good gracious,
something else for my feeble mind to wrap around. I have to get you
a present as well, then!”

“You’re not required to.”

“Oh, but if you get me one, then I’m gonna
feel obligated to get you one, too. Tit for tat.” She reached for
her water bag sitting on the ground nearby. Drinking thirstily, she
offered him some. Yulen declined. “Maybe for the better,” she said,
re-plugging the bag. “I must have gotten some sediment in it. It
tastes brackish. Blech. Anyway, back to what we were talking about,
don’t try to dissuade me. I’m getting you a gift, even if I have to
go out and kill one.”

Yulen chuckled again. “Very well. Talk to
Mother if you’re wanting to get ideas. She’ll also enjoy telling
you all the embarrassing stories about me and my childhood and
growing up that you’ll ever want to hear.” A yawn suddenly caught
him by surprise. He stretched and gestured for her to join him.
“What arrangements did you make for guarding us tonight?” he asked
her. He wasn’t surprised when she made a face and bit her lower
lip. Laughing softly, he accused her, “My lusty wench had other
things on her mind other than making sure a pack of wild boar don’t
interrupt us during our lovemaking?”

“I’ll wake up if I hear anything unusual,”
she defended herself.

“Sure, if circumstances were normal,” he
agreed, “but we’re both exhausted. Because of that, chances are
good that any passing animal or unsavory human creature could kill
us both in our bed before we’re aware of anything.”

He saw an idea spark in her eyes, and watched
as she got to her feet and disappeared into the underbrush. Moments
later she reemerged, pulling the bay mare behind her. The horse was
tethered to a tree on the other side of the fire.

Yulen smiled as she doffed the tunic and
cuddled into the bedroll with him. As she settled her head in the
hollow of his shoulder, he kissed her forehead. She lifted her face
for another on her lips.

“Can you reach your sword from here in case
the mare warns us?” she asked.

Reaching out with his other hand, he felt the
familiar hilt a comfortable distance away. “Yes. Now go to sleep.
And I promise you, when we get back to Alta Novis, right after our
wedding, I’m locking the door to our bedroom for a week.”

He felt her smile against his arm as he
slowly drifted into unconsciousness.

Chapter Forty-Two

Responsibility

“Mastin!”

MaGrath strode over to the second who was
busy getting the men ready to leave. The soldier turned to give him
a questioning look. “Sir?”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“In what respect?” Mastin inquired
politely.

MaGrath pointed out into the direction of the
encampment, which had finally been broken down and packed. It was a
matter of minutes before the Second would signal for them to
continue moving onward toward Alta Novis.

“D’Jacques isn’t here! In fact, I was told he
disappeared last night and hasn’t been seen since. Aren’t you going
to put out a search party for him?”

Mastin narrowed his eyes at the physician.
This was one area where the man had no power to change the original
orders he’d received from the Battle Lord. “Sir, I was given
specific instructions to get the company back on the road at first
light. I’m following those orders, sir.”

“Then you know where he is?” MaGrath
accused.

“No, sir. But if you look at his horse,
you’ll notice his saddlebags and bedroll are missing from his
saddle. Perhaps he chose to spend the night in the forest.”

“Of course!” MaGrath said sarcastically.
“Very well, lead on.” He spun around to head for his own horse when
the soldier’s next comment made him pause.

“If the Battle Lady returned last night, it’s
a very real possibility.”

Battle Lady.
Despite his irritation, MaGrath couldn’t help the small smile
that creased his face at the term. It wasn’t the first time he’d
heard the name bandied about, but it was the first time he’d heard
it spoken to directly address her, making him wonder if the rest of
the men were using the name as a point of fact.

Madigan watched him join her where she waited
on her mount. “Well?” she asked.

“Mastin believes Atty came back last night,
and they spent the night together in the forest.”

Her eyes got wide. “Isn’t that too
dangerous?”

He agreed. “But we’re talking about Atty
here. That woman has the forest in her blood. Come on, Maddy. Let’s
find our place in line.”

She followed him as he rode out to join the
caravan already in motion, taking her place not far from the head.
Mastin calmly took point. Directly behind him, his sub-lieutenant
by the name of Socher led Yulen’s horse by the reins. Madigan
noticed the saddle was missing its side bags and her son’s
bedroll.

They kept up the pace originally set by the
Battle Lord as the sun rose over the tops of the trees. Talk was
little. The only sounds to be heard coming from the surrounding
forest were the birds nesting in the trees, and the occasional
ground rodent scurrying through the brush to escape being trampled
on the road.

It was the men’s murmuring that alerted
Mastin and the others that something was amiss. As the sound of
galloping hooves steadily grew louder, the Second signaled for a
halt as they all turned to look back down the road. Flying around
the bend came a single horse with two riders. MaGrath let out a
huge sigh. “Well, it’s about damn time.”

They waited as Yulen brought the mare up to
the front of the line. Without waiting for the horse to come to a
full stop, he smoothly slid from the saddle where he’d been seated
in front of Atty, barely hitting the ground before swinging onto
the stallion. Sorcher tossed him the reins, and the Battle Lord
motioned for them to continue onward. Mastin took his place behind
his leader.

MaGrath glanced at the two of them, aware of
the air of nonchalance they were trying to impart. “Don’t you think
you owe us an apology?” he finally spoke up.

“For what?” Yulen eyed him.

“For scaring us like that! For not letting us
know where you were! I almost had Mastin send out a search
party!”

Yulen cast an eye at where his Second rode
silently behind them, trying unsuccessfully to look as though he
couldn’t hear their conversation. “I seriously doubt that, Liam.
Mastin was following my orders to a T.”

“Where’d you go last night, then?”

“Liam.” For the first time, Madigan spoke up
and tried to placate him.

“No, no, Maddy. I think it’s time someone had
a talk with your son here. All right, Yulen, I know things are
different. I know things are going to be even more different once
we get back to Alta Novis. But you seem to have forgotten that you
are a Battle Lord, and that life is not all flower petals and
silken sheets. You have an obligation, and it’s about time you put
your feet back on the ground and got back to the business at
hand.”

“I think I
am
tending to the business at hand, Liam. Would
you mind being a little more specific?” Yulen
challenged.

Madigan intervened. “Liam’s just upset to
find you gone this morning. He’s right you know, Yul. You can’t
just go wandering off into the woods and leave a full company of
men.”

Yulen shot her a heavy look, then turned back
to the physician. “Since when do I have to explain my actions to
you? Or get prior permission?”

“Yul!”

“Stay out of this, Madigan. Okay, Liam. Have
it out. Okay, so I admit it. My actions these past few weeks have
been...not myself. Of course, we all know why I’ve strayed a bit
from normal procedures. But at no time have I placed my men in any
danger, nor have I compromised the compound because of my lack of
attention. In fact, I’m surprised at your reaction this morning. If
you haven’t noticed, Atty has returned. Whatever happened to good
manners and a ‘good morning’ greeting?”

“Yul, you know we’re happy to have you both
return well and happy, but listen to Liam. He does have our best
interests at heart,” Madigan insisted.

“Your mother’s right,” Atty finally
joined the conversation. When Yulen lifted an eyebrow at her, she
gazed steadfastly back. “But it’s mostly my fault,” she added,
turning to them. “
I
left the
caravan.
I’m
the one who drew
him away from the encampment last night.”

Drew him away.
Yulen found he liked the sound of that, and managed to mask
his smile.

“That doesn’t excuse Yulen’s behavior. These
are dangerous times, and they’re not going to get easier. If his
head’s in the clouds, that places all of us in danger,” MaGrath
told her sharply, although it was clear the man’s temper was
beginning to cool, now that the both of them had returned
unharmed.

“Then I swear never to leave the caravan
again before we reach Alta Novis,” she promised.

“Atty, I fight my own battles,” Yulen began
churlishly.

“Then treat me as your equal, Yulen
D’Jacques,” she snapped suddenly, turning on him with flushed
cheeks, “or I swear the nights are going to be very cold for the
both of us! You want me to wife? Then accept the fact that what
affects you also affects me, and vice versa. Liam is right. We’ve
been remiss in our duties to your men and the compound.”

She paused to give him a blistering look, but
the Battle Lord refused to offer a rebuttal. Instead, he kneed the
stallion and moved forward a bit in line, leaving Atty and the
others in their small group riding together. Several minutes
passed, until she turned to Madigan. “Has he always been this
obstinate?” she asked, knowing he could overhear.

“Since he was born,” the older woman
replied.

“Opinionated? Rude?”

“Just like his father.”

“Prone to refuse to admit he’s wrong, even
when all the evidence proves otherwise?” Atty added.

“Oh, that’s probably his worst flaw,” Madigan
announced, smiling. “Still willing to marry him, even though he has
a score of rough edges? And there’s not much of a chance you’ll
ever change him?”

Atty sighed loudly. “I guess I don’t have
much choice. After all, he did promise me I could still wear a
white wedding dress, even though this morning he had me—”

“
Atty!
”