The Battle Lord's Lady (46 page)

When the Battle Lord didn’t respond, MaGrath
walked over to stand closer. “Yulen, your mother and I posted our
banns outside the lodge doors this morning. In three days we’re
going to exchange vows and become husband and wife. She needs you
there with her when we do. I need you there as well.”

“Give Madigan my heartfelt congratulations.
You, too, Liam. You both deserve some happiness. It’s been a long
time coming,” he told him in a low voice.

“But will you be there with us?”

MaGrath watched the failing light cast darker
shadows on the ones already etching Yulen’s face. It had been two
weeks since the Battle Lord had returned from his trip to Wallis,
and since that time they had been forced to watch the man slowly
sink into a state of deep depression. It didn’t take a mind reader
to know that either he hadn’t been able to view Atty’s body, or
he’d never gotten a definitive answer.

Either way, he’d been refused his
closure.

“Yeah. Yeah, Liam. Tell my mother I’ll stand
with you.” Finally turning to look at his friend, Yulen added, “But
don’t expect me to join in the celebration afterwards.”

MaGrath sighed. “Fair enough.”

Moments passed in quiet as Yulen finished his
drink and MaGrath listened to the sounds of the compound preparing
for the night. Out the window, in the distance, he could see lights
bobbing through the courtyard like fireflies.

“You know, Liam...we’ve been wrong all these
years.”

MaGrath held his tongue. Yulen had said
practically nothing since his return, and had made no one privy to
his thoughts or experiences at Wallis. He’d only allowed the
physician to dress the cut across his chest without explanation as
to how he got it, although MaGrath had an faint idea once Mastin
told him the Battle Lord had returned with it after leaving the
walls of the Mutah compound.

“We had no business hunting down and
destroying entire families and communities, just because they were
Mutah. Just because they were...different,” Yulen continued in a
distant voice. “They’re trying to survive, just like us. Trying to
survive day after day, hoping to find someone to cherish along the
way. Just like us.”

Getting slowly to his feet, Yulen stretched
and let out a deep sigh, but kept his vigil at the window. MaGrath
heard the suffering that wouldn’t let up in his breath. He turned
and left, closing the door behind him, and leaving Yulen to watch
the coming twilight uninterrupted.

Walking down the stairs, the physician
spotted the woman waiting for him at the landing. “Well?” she asked
softly.

MaGrath nodded. “He promised he would stand
by us, but declined the festivities afterwards.”

Madigan sucked in a trembling breath. “I’m
losing my son,” she told him. “Before this, I always believed there
was no such thing as dying from a broken heart. But it really
exists, doesn’t it?” Walking into his embrace, the woman pressed
her face to his shoulder. “How much longer, Liam? You’re the
expert. How much longer can he go on like this?”

He placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “I
don’t know, Maddy. I honestly don’t know. But we can’t dwell on it.
At least, not for the next few days. We have a wedding to plan.”
Pulling her back to arm’s length, he gave her a warm and loving
smile. “Ironic, isn’t it, that Atty’s also responsible for bringing
us finally together?”

Madigan gave him a tender smile in return and
allowed him to walk her to her bedchambers he now shared with
her.

The following day, the two of them were
surprised to see the Battle Lord emerge from his rooms to take a
seat at the breakfast table. The soldiers also taking their meal in
the main hall were also aware of his unexpected presence. Since
Yulen’s return, Mastin and Paxton had assumed the Battle Lord’s
duties, directing any requests and questions they couldn’t field
themselves to MaGrath or Madigan.

Now, it seemed as if the man was voluntarily
rejoining the human race. Deep down, MaGrath doubted it. Out of
love for his mother, the man was going to attempt to make the next
few days less stressful for her, and allow her to concentrate on
her upcoming nuptials.

The physician kept a watchful eye on the
Battle Lord as the man resumed his duties as well. Life returned to
a semblance of normalcy, until Farragen, the stone mason,
approached him late one afternoon. “Hey, MaGrath, do you know where
the Battle Lord is?”

Glancing up from the table where he’d been
mixing a sleeping powder, MaGrath shrugged. “Have you tried the
stables?”

“Yeah, but they said he left there some time
ago.”

“Then I can’t tell you. Do you need him now,
or can it wait until later this evening? He’ll be taking supper
soon.”

The stone mason made a face, leaving the
physician with the impression that a decision had to be made one
way or another.

“What is it? Maybe I can be of some
help.”

“Well, it has to do with this memorial he
wants for the Battle Lady.”

His words instantly put MaGrath on alert.
Trying to hide the shaking in his hands, the physician wiped them
on a towel and turned around to give the man his full attention.
“Go on.”

“I forgot to ask him if he wanted me to put a
date on it under her name, or leave it with just the inscription.”
The stone mason handed over a piece of paper.

MaGrath stared at the simple rectangular
drawing Yulen had ordered to have made. Across the face of the
granite slab were to be the words “Atrilan Ferran D’Jacques”.
Underneath, the simple word “Forever”. The physician closed his
eyes and took a shaky breath. Yulen was trying to find his own
measure of closure. It was the first tentative step toward healing.
Toward accepting. Toward continuing on with his life, as empty and
as long as it would be. The man had finally realized Atty wouldn’t
have wanted him to suffer any longer. And that by going on with his
life, he was keeping her memory alive in him.

While he lived, so did she.

At least, that’s what MaGrath hoped—and
prayed—it meant.

Handing back the piece of paper, MaGrath told
him, “Do it exactly as he requested.”

The mason shrugged and left. MaGrath hurried
to clean up his mess so he could go tell Madigan what he’d found
out.

On the morning of the wedding, the weather
turned cool. Clouds bunched together in the sky, threatening rain,
but preparations continued outside with the hope the rains would
hold off until after the ceremony. A brisk wind appeared from the
northwest, bringing with it the smell of one final cool front
before winter finally let go.

MaGrath looked up from where he stood before
the mirror, checking to make sure he had all his buttons were
secured in correct sequence, to see Yulen standing behind him. For
the first time in days the man looked almost like his old self.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Yulen
asked, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“I don’t have much choice, do I?” MaGrath
replied with a mock grimace. “I’ve already drawn up a new
will.”

Yulen clapped a hand on the man’s shoulder,
and the physician reached over to give it a pat. “I’ve been meaning
to speak with you about something,” MaGrath mentioned.

“About what? As if there’s not another
hundred or so things I’ve been neglecting that all of a sudden need
my immediate attention right this moment.”

“It’s about Atty’s memorial.”

Yulen’s face went hard as MaGrath watched the
man close the gates around his heart for protection. “What about
it?” No questions as to how he’d found out. Just a simple
request.

“Where did you plan to put it?” MaGrath asked
softly.

Yulen lowered his eyes and bit his lips.
“Under the shade of that old sycamore over on the south side of the
compound. It has the most beautiful gold leaves in the fall. I
thought she’d like it there.”

The physician nodded. “Yeah, she would.”
Giving the man’s hand another pat, he forced a smile. “Do you still
have the ring? Or do I need to start panicking now?”

Yulen narrowed his eyes at the man, and the
ghost of a smile reappeared. “In my pocket, Liam.”

Subconsciously, MaGrath’s eyes were drawn to
the platinum ring Yulen wore on the outside of his ceremonial
tunic. The man never took it off, even when he took sword practice
with the soldiers out in the compound.

Nodding, he left the guestroom where he’d
gotten dressed and headed for the courtyard with Yulen directly
behind him. He kept a close watch over the Battle Lord, knowing
that at some point the man would have a reaction to the day’s
festivities. It had only been three weeks ago to the day that he
and Atty had said their vows, and the memory was still as painful
as the cut across his chest.

Like they had before, the populace of Alta
Novis was out to celebrate the wedding. It was to be an all-day
event, with feasting and merriment, until the darkest hours of the
night. Even Yulen had relented and lightened the soldiers’
schedule, reducing the number of guards on duty and shortening
their hours on watch so no one would miss out on the activities for
too long.

Out in the courtyard, Folchen awaited the
party underneath the white tent, which had been draped with
Madigan’s favorite purple scarves. Yulen managed a tender smile
when he presented his mother to the man who had always been like a
second father to him.

“Love and long life, Mother,” he whispered in
her ear, then kissed her cheek. She smiled in return before placing
her hand in MaGrath’s, and turning to face the man of faith.

The wedding, from beginning to end, only
lasted fifteen minutes. It wasn’t until MaGrath began to recite the
words for the exchange of rings that he saw the torment filling
Yulen’s eyes from where he stood behind them. Quickly he averted
his own eyes and kept his mind on the ceremony.

“In front of all those present, I now
pronounce these two to be husband and wife! May no man break their
bonds of love!” Folchen lowered his arms to congratulate the couple
as the people began to cheer.

A scream suddenly rent the air from the back
of the crowd. The townsfolk began to back away, stumbling over each
other to get out of the path of the horses thundering into the
courtyard. Leading the squad was Tosh Karv, dressed in his full
battle armor.

Leaving the tent, Yulen walked up to address
his Second sharply. “Karv, what is the meaning of this? Why aren’t
you at Bearinger? You were not given orders to return.”

Instead of answering, the shorter man
dismounted and strode up to face him directly. Then, without
warning, he gave a nod to the others who had accompanied him into
the compound. The men dismounted and drew their weapons.

Yulen, momentarily distracted watching the
other riders, never saw the metal glove come crashing down against
the side of his head. He collapsed to his knees as people around
cried out. Behind him he could vaguely hear his mother’s shout of
anger as he fought passing out.

Within seconds, Tosh Karv had the Battle Lord
at his feet. Around him his men had also taken Madigan and MaGrath
prisoner.

“Listen up, people of Alta Novis!” the
Second yelled out. “Listen well! I am declaring myself now Battle
Lord of this compound! I have taken D’Jacques as prisoner, as well
as the immediate ruling family! Therefore, by my rights, I claim
this compound now to be under
my
rule!”

“What are you doing, Karv?” Yulen demanded
harshly. Blood flowed from the gash in his scalp, and dripped onto
his tunic. His head felt like it would crack open like an egg at
any moment.

“Only getting what I deserve,” the man told
him, smiling bitterly.

“And why would you think that for one moment
you deserve this? What’s gotten into you?”

Mastin and a company of soldiers burst
through the crowd. They skidded to a halt upon seeing their Battle
Lord with a sword pointed at his neck. Karv gave the new Second a
withering look.

“Go ahead, Cole. Try to rescue your Mutah
loving leader now. Better tell him to stand down, Yulen, or I’ll
order my man to put a dagger through your mother’s heart.” He
grabbed Yulen by the hair and jerked his head around so he could
see where one of Karv’s soldiers held a knife against Madigan’s
breast. There was no doubt in Yulen’s mind Karv would make good on
his promise. He signaled to Mastin to lower his weapons.

“Very good, Yulen. Now declare Alta Novis
mine.”

“And when I do, what happens to us?”

Strangely, Karv laughed, as if he’d gotten
the punch line of a good joke. “Oh, trust me, I have plenty planned
for you. After all, I’ve had a long time to think these things
through while I’ve been watching over Bearinger. By the way, you
severely underestimated Collaunt’s popularity over there. I found
at least two dozen supporters who are eager and more than willing
to support me in any future endeavors, beginning with my taking of
this compound. Besides, I have never forgiven you for what you did
to me that night in the Mutah compound.”

“You nearly killed Atty with your brutality,
when I’d specifically given you orders to leave her be.”

“She was
Mutah!
And you showing her special favors was
making me sick! That’s why I ordered those plant fibers put in her
water. Couldn’t have that Mutah bitch tainting this place any more
than she already had.”

A red mist seemed to fall over Yulen’s
eyes. Behind him he could hear MaGrath’s growl of anger. “It
was
you
who poisoned her?” the
physician hissed.

“I’m just sorry it took so long to finally do
her in. Damned Mutah body of hers fought it for too long. I’ve
never used Borash before. I was hoping to see how it would affect
her. Was it an agonizing death, Yulen?” Karv grabbed another
handful of the Battle Lord’s hair and jerked his face upward. Yulen
gasped from the pain, nearly passing out. He drew a shuddering
breath. The pounding in his head wasn’t going to diminish any time
soon. He would have to deal with it and come up with some way to
defeat Karv before the man gained complete control of the
place.