A Battle Lord’s Heart Read online

  Despite her handicap, it didn’t affect Atty’s arm or her aim. She knew most of her husband’s weaknesses. She just never expected to have to apply them to actual one-on-one combat. However, he did have one major, crucial advantage, not counting the pregnancy. He was left-handed. That in itself was enough to tilt the balance in his favor whenever he faced a right-handed opponent. And although Atty could fire her bow with equal dexterity with either hand, she was definitely right-handed when it came to everything else.

  She batted away a half-dozen partial lunges aimed at her chest with sweeping downstrokes. Earlier she’d tried to lunge, but her awkwardness prevented her from completing the movement. Instead, she twirled around on the tips of her toes and tried to mow him down at the waist. It wasn’t until Yulen pivoted that she saw the wide, almost bloody red mark above the waistband of his pants where Mastin’s broad sword had gotten him. Stunned, she missed seeing the tip of his foil coming toward her, and a heartbeat later the capped end was pressed against upper edge of her collarbone.

  “Touché, Atty,” he whispered. Around them, the crowd erupted in applause.

  She glanced up into his eyes. “You’re hurt.”

  “Comes with the territory,” he acknowledged above the din of the spectators. “Admit defeat?”

  “You fought me when you were hurt?”

  “Not fought. Practiced. Admit defeat?”

  “On one condition.”

  He sighed and rolled his eyes. “Now what?”

  “That after I have this baby, you and I have a rematch. I feel like I’m moving through mud when I’m like this.”

  Smiling, Yulen relented, taking her foil from her. “And I get to name our son, no argument on your part?”

  “That was the deal,” she relented. Yulen caught the twinkle in her eye, and realized she had something up her sleeve. Atty never relented so easily unless she had other intentions. He chuckled as he retrieved her coat and handed it to her.

  Walking back to the circle from where he’d been watching from the stands, Baylynn called out another pairs of names. The couple proceeded through the crowd and began to head back toward the compound. Presently, Tory caught up with them.

  “Hope you don’t mind me accompanying you. Do you know where Fortune is?”

  Yulen motioned with a nod of his head as he pulled his tunic back on. “He went out to the archery field to watch the men practice. Doesn’t he shoot a bow as well?”

  “Yeah,” Tory admitted. “He’s probably getting in a little practice, too. You know, Yulen, you had me worried there for a moment when you challenged Atty.”

  “I knew what I was doing,” he answered her. “Atty was never in any danger. I was watching her every moment to make certain she wasn’t over-exerting herself.”

  Atty piped up, “And I would have won, too, until I saw that ugly mark on your back. Bet it stings like the dickens.”

  “I’ll be okay. I’ll get Liam to look at it.”

  They were interrupted by one of the young solders-in-training, who came running up to the Battle Lord with an urgent message. “It’s from Paxton,” the lad said, handing Yulen a folded piece of paper. “A messenger accompanied by two of our men just arrived. They’re in the main lodge now.”

  Pulling back his arm from where he’d had it around Atty’s shoulders, Yulen opened the paper and read it aloud. “‘Bearinger under siege. Being overrun with Bloods. Need help, supplies now.’ It’s signed ‘Paxton’.” He only took a second to make his decision. “Tory, take Atty and go to the lodge and wait for me there. What is your name?” he asked the young man.

  “Pike, sir.”

  “Pike, go get Del Ray and Sorcher, and have them meet me at the main lodge,” he ordered. The boy ran off.

  “Yulen, what are you going to do?” Atty called out to him as he turned and headed back the way they’d come. If he heard her, he didn’t answer. Tory grabbed her arm and tried to lead her back to the lodge.

  “Come on, Atty. It’s too cold to be standing out here.”

  It was as if Atty had already made up her mind. Relenting to Tory’s insistent tugging on her arm, she followed along until they reached the cut-off leading to either the main lodge or her new home. Without a word, Atty suddenly turned toward the main lodge with Tory in tow.

  “Atty, what do you think you’re doing?”

  “It’s not what I think I’m doing,” she responded tightly. “It’s what I know Yulen is going to do.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Fighting back tears, Atty gritted her teeth. “He’s going to leave me,” she told her.

  Chapter Seven

  Rescue Mission

  Within a quarter hour every officer in Yulen’s army had gathered in the main lodge as news swept the compound about Bearinger. When the Battle Lord strode into the hall to give them their orders, he was aware of the figure standing before the fireplace with a devastated look on her face. He took a deep breath and turned to face his men.

  “Bearinger is under siege from the Bloods. They need reinforcements, and they need them now. I’m taking a hundred men in full battle armor. Mastin, you’re staying here.”

  “Sir?” The Second was stunned to hear his orders.

  “I need someone I can trust to guard Alta Novis. With my forces depleted, it’ll leave this compound a ripe target for takeover if the Bloods decide to redirect their attack.” Inadvertently his eyes swept back to the figure by the fireplace, and Mastin followed his glance. Immediately the Second realized the Battle Lord wasn’t just trusting him with the safety of the home compound. He was trusting him with his most cherished possession—Atty and their unborn son. The Second grimly nodded.

  Gripping the pommel of his sword, Yulen added in a harsher tone, “This is a rescue mission. It will also be an extremely dangerous one. Let the men know first consideration will go to those who volunteer. The rest will be chosen by my lieutenants. Get your gear ready and be ready to leave before the hour. Dismissed.”

  That gave everyone a little more than half an hour to prepare and be saddled. Yulen watched his men hurry out, leaving him alone with a small handful of people scattered about the huge hall. Slowly, he turned to face his wife. The caustic retribution he expected from her was swift and heated.

  “You promised me you would never leave me,” she spat through gritted teeth. Her face was pale, her eyes glittering with anger and unshed tears.

  “And I told you my first duty would always be to this compound,” he calmly responded. The bile in his stomach could not compare with the venom she was unleashing at him. Atty wasn’t as furious as she was terrified. They both knew it. From the corner of his eye he caught the figures of Fortune and Tory standing back in the shadows, waiting and watching. Fearful for the both of them.

  “And you expect me to just sit here, with the agony of not knowing what’s happening to you eating at my heart, while you’re out there facing God knows what?” Atty cried softly. She was clutching the edges of her coat, as if she were freezing.

  Yulen started to walk toward her when the import of what she’d said slammed into his brain, and he gasped. In a dark voice, he ordered, “You’re staying here, Atty. You’re not coming after us.”

  Her reply was a stony stare. Yulen could feel the heat of his anger flooding his face and neck. “I forbid you.”

  Still she remained silent, except for the slight upward tilt of her chin. She was daring him, and her audacity, for the first time in their marriage, grated on him.

  “Promise me you will not follow us once we leave.”

  Blue-gray eyes challenged blue-gray eyes. The air between them sizzled with tension. Behind her, the fireplace crackled and hissed, throwing sparks into the air, giving Atty’s figure an almost ethereal halo of fire.

  Realizing that force would not persuade her, Yulen tried a different tactic. “Atty, why would you even consider coming along? Why would you even risk our son?”

  “You need me,” she whispered.

 
; “I need you safe!” he immediately argued back. “I need to know you’re here, alive and safe and waiting for me. I need my mind clear of any worry about you so I can concentrate on what I need to do to save my compound and my people.”

  “And who’ll watch your back?” she demanded tearfully.

  “Who watched my back before I found you?” he challenged in return. “My men are very capable of backing me up. It’s what they’ve been trained to do. You, on the other hand—”

  “Do you honestly think I can sit here day after day and do nothing?” she cried out to him.

  “I want your word, Atty. Give me your word you’ll remain in Alta Novis.”

  “I...can’t.”

  “Damn it, Atty!” He slammed his fist on the edge of the table, splintering the wood plank. “Don’t do this to me! Don’t force me to do something I’ll forever regret.”

  Her eyes widened as she took in his threat. “Do what?” she ask loudly, haughtily.

  “If I have to, I’ll have you imprisoned in our home and keep you guarded ‘round the clock.”

  She took a step sideways, away from him. “You’d keep me a prisoner?”

  “If it’s the only way I can be certain you won’t hurt yourself, yes, I will,” he replied bitterly.

  Tory started to take a step forward to intervene, when her husband grabbed her arm and pulled her back. He nodded violently to her. This was something Atty and Yulen had to work out on their own, without any interference. But in the meantime their argument had caught the ears of several more people, and the number of onlookers around the perimeter of the room had doubled.

  Yulen appeared ready to boil at Atty’s disobedience. On the other hand, Atty seemed ready to cave, despite her show of backbone.

  A long moment of silence passed between them, yet neither showed signs of yielding. The tension grew and became strained, threatening to snap and recoil like a thin, deadly filament of wire, until Atty dropped her eyes and folded her arms over her chest.

  “We’re connected, Yul,” she spoke softly. Hesitantly. “You and me...if something happens to you, I’ll know. I’ll know, and then I won’t be able to live with myself, knowing I might have been able to save you. Knowing I might have made a difference.” She lifted large eyes swimming in tears. “We’ve had such a short time together. It’s not enough. I’m jealous, and I’m selfish. I want more, Yul. I want more time with you.”

  “Atrilan...” All of his anger washed out of him, as surely as if he’d poured it out with his own two hands.

  “I want...I want to spend...forever with you.” She couldn’t speak anymore. The pressure in her chest was too great, stealing what air she could breathe in, and her words hiccuped out of her as she tried to tell him how much she loved him. How much she needed him, to be with him, to have him with her. “You...are...my life...Yul...Yul...”

  He held out his arms to her, and she collapsed against his strong chest. Holding her, it took every ounce of willpower not to break down with her as she trembled violently. Her arms clutched him. Her fingers dug painfully into the burn on his back, but he could accept it.

  He closed his eyes and memorized how she felt. The scent and texture of her dark blue hair. The silkiness of her body. The beating of her heart. He bent his head and sought her mouth for a goodbye kiss. Her lips tasted of salt.

  “You know you are my very heart, my very life,” he whispered in her mouth. “You’ve known it ever since that day I took your hand and led you out of the forest on the outskirts of Foster City. You’ve known it since the first time I kissed you after you saved me from the bull ferret. You’ve known it since I removed the rope from your wrists in that little shop in Wallis.”

  He kissed her as his hand cupped her neck and throat, and he could feel the wild pounding of her heart beneath the thin, velvety skin. “I’m leaving here without my heart because you will be holding it here, inside you, next to our son, until I return to claim it. Do you hear me, my Atrilan? Keep my heart safe with you, within you, where I know it will be warmed and loved and protected by your strength and courage. Atrilan. My beautiful, passionate Atrilan. My only love. My wife.”

  He kissed her again, and this time she gave him her answer with her lips. Holding her tightly, he allowed himself one last, slow taste of her incredible mouth, then gently released her. Turning on his heel, and without another word or look back, Yulen walked out of the main lodge to retrieve his horse.

  Atty remained by the fire, shaking with grief and fear, until she could hear the sound of the soldiers departing. Breaking out of her numbness, she hurried to the front doors. Tory and Fortune and Mastin bolted after her, not knowing what she would do, yet knowing she would do something.

  When they reached the outside, it was Mastin who spotted her climbing up the ladder to reach the parapet where she could watch Yulen’s departure. Once she reached the narrow ledge, she edged over to the main gates and remained there until the last of the army had disappeared over the ridge. After a few more minutes had passed, she slowly climbed back down the ladder and began to walk back toward her new lodge. She never made it, as she sank into an unconscious heap in the middle of the roadway.

  Chapter Eight

  In Interim

  Three days passed with excruciating slowness. There were hours when Atty would stay in bed, drifting between sleep and restlessness. Several times she would climb the ladders up to the parapet to stare out over the compound walls, toward the direction where Bearinger lay. The rest of the time she would prowl the perimeter of the compound, walking in endless circles around and around the interior, sometimes for hours at a time.

  Countless eyes watched her guardedly, protectively, but only a small handful of people dared to approach her. Talk with her. Try and coax her back into the warmth of the lodge. To many she resembled a caged animal relentlessly pacing the limited confines of her cell.

  She ate alone, taking all her meals in the new lodge. MaGrath checked on her every day to make sure at least her physical health wasn’t suffering.

  One afternoon he reentered his clinic, bypassing a couple of waiting patients, and exited into the inner sanctum of his own quarters. Madigan was seated before the fire, trying to relearn how to knit, now that she had a grandson on the way. She looked up when he came in and collapsed in the chair opposite, and remained silent, knowing he would speak when he was ready.

  “I should have gone with them,” he finally remarked.

  “You gave your word to Yulen. Besides, MacIntyre’s more than capable. It was time he got his hands dirty.” She swore softly to find she’d dropped a stitch and was forced to go back and unravel what she’d done to pick it up.

  As he rubbed his forehead, MaGrath noticed her irritation. Her concentration brought a smile to his face. “You haven’t touched a pair of needles in how long?”

  “Let’s see...Yul’s thirty? Thirty years.” She glanced up at him. “How’s she doing?”

  His sigh was explosive. “I’m reminded of Yulen when she was taken away to Wallis. Remember how he just seemed to fold into himself and die bit by bit? She’s like that, only she’s making sure the baby isn’t suffering because of her. So, on one hand, you have a woman emotionally losing her sanity, and on the other you have an expectant mother going through the motions to protect her unborn child. What’s today? The ninth? They should’ve gotten there by now. Give or take another day, and the trip back, we should be getting some sort of message by the middle of next week.”

  Madigan swore again under her breath, and this time the physician chuckled. He got to his feet and crossed the short distance to her chair, leaned over, and gave her a soft kiss. “I’m going back to the clinic to see the two people still waiting, and then I’ll hang up the ‘emergencies only’ sign. After that I’m coming back in here to take my favorite girl out to eat.”

  He got a sweet smile from her for that remark. “And then what?” she coached.

  “And then I thought we could see if Berta has ready what I
asked her to bake. We’re going to take them over to the new lodge and try to blackmail Atty into spending an evening in conversation with us. Her sweet tooth has grown enormously with her cravings. Let’s see if our blue-haired wood sprite can resist hot apple dumplings.”

  A little more than an hour later, MaGrath rapped on the front door of the new lodge. Tory answered the door. A look of surprise came over her when she saw the doctor and his wife standing outside in the cold and dark. “Come in! Come in, before you catch your death.” She ushered them into the living area and took their coats. Madigan held out the tray of wrapped dumplings she’d brought with them, straight from the kitchen oven.

  “We brought apple dumplings,” she explained. “Watch it. They’re still hot.”

  Tory gestured for her to place the tray on the small table by the door.

  “I don’t think you’ve met my wife,” MaGrath did the introductions. “This is Madigan. Maddy, this is Tory Kalich. And this gentleman finally getting out his chair and coming over to meet us is her husband, Fortune.”

  They shook hands politely as they exchanged greetings. Atty’s non-presence was very noticeable, and Madigan looked up at the loft-style bedroom in expectation.

  Like a good hostess, Tory led them over to the fire where two more comfortable and identically padded chairs had been added since Yulen and Atty had moved in. This was Madigan’s first time to be in the new lodge, and her mother’s eye saw all the touches that spoke of her son, but the absence of any woman’s touch was glaring.

  “Maddy, remember me telling you that Tory and Fortune are Atty’s guardians?” her husband commented. MaGrath turned to the Mutah couple. “Madigan is Yulen’s mother.”

  “Oh!” Tory’s gaze riveted on the woman sitting opposite of her. “I didn’t know.” Immediately her brows bunched together, and Madigan laughed softly. She’d seen that expression too many times.