Lucien Read online

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright and Disclaimer

  Chapter One – Practice

  Chapter Two – Plea

  Chapter Three – Meeting

  Chapter Four – Siblings

  Chapter Five – Memories

  Chapter Six – Goodbyes

  Chapter Seven – Strategy

  Chapter Eight – New Bearinger

  Chapter Nine – Demand

  Chapter Ten – Decision

  Chapter Eleven – Preparation

  Chapter Twelve – Whiterock

  Chapter Thirteen – Johna

  Chapter Fourteen – Truce

  Chapter Fifteen – Warning

  Chapter Sixteen – Request

  Chapter Seventeen – Concern

  Chapter Eighteen – Attempt

  Chapter Nineteen – Explanation

  Chapter Twenty – Discovery

  Chapter Twenty-One – Survivor

  Chapter Twenty-Two – Contamination

  Chapter Twenty-Three – Durrow

  Chapter Twenty-Four – Diagnosis

  Chapter Twenty-Five – Infected

  Chapter Twenty-Six – Weakness

  Chapter Twenty-Seven – Eyes

  Chapter Twenty-Eight – Chance

  Chapter Twenty-Nine – Deception

  Chapter Thirty – Inconsistencies

  Chapter Thirty-One – Imposter

  Chapter Thirty-Two – Schutz Ridge

  Chapter Thirty-Three – Reminisce

  Chapter Thirty-Four – Ideas

  Chapter Thirty-Five – Immunity

  Chapter Thirty-Six – Swarm

  Chapter Thirty-Seven – Deceit

  Chapter Thirty-Eight – Desertion

  Chapter Thirty-Nine – Hope

  Chapter Forty – Weller

  Chapter Forty-One – Attack

  Chapter Forty-Two – Home

  About the Author

  Science Fiction Romances by Linda Mooney

  Lucien

  The D’Jacques Dynasty

  Book 1

  By

  Linda Mooney

  LUCIEN

  Copyright © 2018 by Linda Mooney

  ISBN 978-1-941321-79-9

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  Editor: Chelly Peeler

  Cover Art: Ash Arceneaux

  Chapter 1

  Practice

  “Keep your head up, Luc! Keep your eyes on your opponent!”

  “I am!”

  The wooden sword grazed the top of his head as it swung above him. If it had been a real sword, it would have shorn away some of his hair.

  Lucien retaliated with a side lunge, but Mattox was quicker. As his older brother slapped aside Luc’s weapon, the vibration jolted painfully up his arm. Immediately, Lucien lunged forward, aiming for Mattox’s legs. Again, the older man managed to deflect the practice sword, arcing it at the last split-second to strike Lucien on the hip.

  “Point, Mattox. Score three to one. Game to Mattox,” Reasoner announced.

  Both men backed away to stare at each other, one breathing more heavily than the other. Lucien narrowed his eyes at his adversary who outgunned him by four inches in height and twenty more pounds in muscle.

  “Sloppy work, Luc. Your lack of concentration will get you killed one day,” his brother remarked with a noticeably derisive tone.

  Lucien gritted his teeth. These past couple of years, ever since he’d joined the ranks of the guards, Mattox rarely ever praised him for anything. If the man spoke to him, it was almost always some form of criticism, and he was getting tired of it.

  “It’s not my fault I don’t have your superiority,” he snapped back.

  Mattox’s red eyes went slightly lighter in color. “You bear the same genes as I do. Quit using that paltry excuse for your failings.”

  “I may have the same genes, but anyone can see the ones that give you and Misty your edge are missing in me. And you can’t deny that fact!”

  His side ached where Mattox’s sword had struck him. By tomorrow he’d be covered in bruises where he’d taken hit after hit during their practice. But for now he refused to let his sibling know of his discomfort.

  “Your abilities are there, little brother,” Mattox rebuked him. “They’re waiting to come out, but you won’t let them. I’m just trying to help you become the warrior you were born to be.”

  “By constantly deriding me?” Lucien shot back.

  “Hold it! Hold it. No one’s deriding anyone,” a beloved voice intervened.

  Both men turned to see their mother striding toward them. He noticed she wasn’t carrying a weapon other than the ballock she always wore the way other women wore jewelry. Because she had no bow or sword, that meant she hadn’t been practicing, which was the main reason why the soldiers left the safety of the barricaded walls. Lucien wondered why she was here.

  When she reached the couple, they bowed their heads for her kiss to their cheeks. Straightening, Lucien watched as she eyed him from top to bottom, then turned to Mattox.

  “Your father is needing you in the main hall.”

  “What for?”

  Atty raised an eyebrow, and Lucien secretly smiled. It wasn’t often that their mother gave them that look. It was as close to a scolding as they’d get.

  “Take it up with your father,” she responded. “Now go!”

  Handing his practice sword to the next soldier waiting his turn, Mattox took off at a trot. Atty remained with Lucien and watched her eldest hurry away.

  Lucien tossed his mock weapon to another nearby soldier. “How about me? Should I also go?”

  In reply, she waved for him to follow, and together they headed back toward the compound.

  “I wanted to speak to you alone,” she admitted. “That’s why I sent Mattox ahead.” She gave him another glance. Her worry reflected in her blue-gray eyes. “I’ve been hearing gossip that bothers me, so I decided to come straight to the source.”

  He frowned. “What kind of gossip? I haven’t told anyone about anything. You know me better than that. I would never betray your or Dad’s trust.”

  She gave a little shake of her head. The setting sun glinted off her deep blue hair, reminding him once again how her special abilities were evident by her outward appearance. Just like they were with Matt and Misty.

  “This has nothing to do with betraying our trust. Your father and I believe in you explicitly. No, when I said you were the source, I didn’t mean you were the instigator. I meant you were the topic.” She slipped an arm around his, and they matched strides. “Lucien, I hear you’ve been demeaning yourself for some time now.”

  He kept silent as he tried to find the words to respond with, when Atty came to a sudden stop and tugged on his arm to make him face her. “I know you’re concerned about your lack of skills on the battlefield. You think it’s because you don’t show any outward mark that proves your Mutah heritage. But you are half Mutah, the same as your brother and sister. You also know there are full-blooded Mutah who don’t show any outward mark. Your grandmother, my mother, didn’t have one. And Tory’s isn’t visible for all to see, either.” She pressed a hand to his chest. “Yours is inside you. Believe me. I would never lie to you.”

  He clasped her hand and held it there. He was constantly amazed by how small and fragile his mother’s hands appeared to be, when in actuality they were the exact opposite. No man or woman, or soldier, Normal or Mutah, could match Atrilan D’Jacques’ skill when it came to the bow or knife.

  “Mom, I know. You’ve told me all this before.”

  “But you don’t listen,” she curtly responded with a tiny smile. “When you least expect it, your specialness will show forth. You must be patient and have faith.” She patted his chest. “You already have your father’s tenacity and bravery. My half will eventually shine through.”

  “I’ll be twenty-one in three months. I have practiced daily, sometimes twice a day, with the sword, the bow, and the knife ever since I was old enough to hold them, but I am no better than the average soldier. I certainly can’t compete against Matt or Misty.”

  Atty glanced over her shoulder for a moment, then turned back to him. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe your weapon of expertise isn’t one of those?”

  “You and Dad have already suggested that, remember? I’ve also tried the crossbow and the pike. Hell, I’ve even worked with the mace. There’s not much else I can choose from.”

  Atty sighed, and they resumed their walk through the compound gates. “Please try to be a bit more patient. Trust in yourself, Lucien. It’ll eventually come. I promise you.”

  If only I was as certain as you are, Mom. As much as her reassurances managed to soothe his ruffled feathers, he couldn’t help the feelings of inadequacy that burned through him wheneve
r he witnessed his brother’s skill with the sword, or his sister’s precision with knives. And yet, he believed her. His mother had that uncanny knack of knowing things that somehow managed to come true. I just gotta be patient and trust it’ll reveal itself, but it’s damn hard.

  Still frowning, he opened the side door leading into the main hall and ushered her in ahead of him.

  Chapter Two

  Plea

  A wall of delicious smells assailed them as they entered the main dining hall. Dinner was being prepared, and his stomach growled in anticipation.

  Lucien immediately spotted his father standing among the group of people gathered at a table near the low-burning fireplace. One of the kitchen help was piling logs in the nearby bin. During the day, there wasn’t much need for heat. But come dinner and nighttime, when the temperature dropped with the setting sun, the embers were stoked back to life.

  Yulen appeared to be listening to one man in particular as he explained something Lucien couldn’t hear. By the strangers’ appearance, he could tell they weren’t from the compound. Neither were they from any compound in this area. Among the small cadre of the battle lord’s soldiers surrounding them were Yulen’s cabinet of advisors, including the two seconds, Warren Paxton and Cole Mastin. Mattox and Mistelle were also in attendance.

  He followed Atty, stopping beside his brother as she went straight to her husband’s side. The man who’d been speaking paused when she appeared.

  “Gentlemen, this is my wife, the Battle Lady of Alta Novis. Atty, this is Harank Pechard, an emissary from the compound of Green River.”

  Pechard smiled and bobbed his head in salutation. “Madam.”

  Atty gave him a quick smile. “I’ve never heard of that compound. Where’s it located?”

  “To the west, in the Newmex territories.”

  “Who’s your battle lord?”

  “Siman Veers.”

  “Green River. Veers. I’ve never heard those names before,” Atty commented. “But there is a lot to the west that I’m not familiar with.”

  “Yet, we have heard of you,” Pechard remarked with a wan smile.

  Lucien saw his father take notice of his arrival, and the battle lord motioned toward him. “And this is my other son, Lucien.”

  Lucien and Pechard exchanged a brief salutation. Yulen informed Atty as to the situation. “Veers is seeking help. His compound is being attacked by Damaged.”

  “How long have they been under siege?” she questioned.

  “By the time we managed to escape, it had been three weeks, madam,” Pechard replied for Yulen.

  “Why have you come to us?” Mattox broke in. “Surely there are other compounds closer to you where you could seek help.”

  Lucien eyed the three newcomers. Pechard and his two accompanying guards looked like they were on their last legs. Splattered with mud and blood, it was obvious they had been through sheer hell to get here. Pechard himself wobbled slightly, signaling he was about to collapse. He started to comment when Atty intervened.

  “These men are beyond exhausted. Sit, gentlemen, sit. Holden, go fetch someone from the kitchen and have them bring water for these men.”

  A soldier saluted. “Fetching someone to bring them water, my lady,” he repeated, and hurried off.

  Pechard gave her a grateful look. “We appreciate the hospitality, madam.” He turned his attention to Mattox, but Lucien discerned the man didn’t quite look his brother in the eyes. The affect was not lost on Mattox, either, but it wasn’t the first time people tried not to make eye contact with the half-Mutah. Not when the entirety of Mattox’s eyes were a bright scarlet, emphasizing his Mutah heritage.

  “We managed to make it to Tarkington, the next compound over, but it had already fallen. Same for Schutz Ridge. By then we were at a loss where we could go to seek help. If those two heavily-guarded compounds were gone, then we knew the Damaged must have advanced from the east and were heading west. So we turned north and prayed for luck.”

  “Go on,” Yulen urged.

  Before Pechard could continue, a servant from the kitchen arrived with a tray bearing three large mugs of water and a full pitcher. Setting the tray on the table, he turned to Yulen. “Would sir want us to bring our guests something to eat?”

  “I’ll let you know. Thank you, Brally.”

  Mastin stepped forward. “Please continue. You went north and?”

  “After four days, we came across a Mutah compound called Lost Traces.”

  Atty brightened. “I know where that’s at!” She turned to her husband. “They’re part of the southern chain.”

  “Isn’t the Mutah compound of Weller the hub of that chain?”

  “Exactly.”

  Pechard looked from the battle lord to the lady and back in confusion. “Southern chain?”

  Yulen momentarily ignored the question. “Were you directed to a Mutah compound named Weller?”

  “Uhh, yes. Yes, we were.”

  “And that’s how you found out about us,” Atty concluded.

  Pechard gave a slight nod. “We’d already heard of the Battle Lord and Lady of Alta Novis. Most people believe that what they’ve heard and read are mere fantasies, or overblown accounts of your exploits. But it was the main council there in Weller who directed us to come here and ask for your assistance. They assured us the tales of your exploits were not fiction.” The man glanced at the two soldiers flanking him. “They told us you’d defeated a Damaged army four years ago, and they haven’t come back. Any help, anything you can give us…”

  The man appeared ready to break down. He looked totally defeated. What’s more, Lucien got the impression there was more to this story than what they were hearing.

  “How many of you originally left Green River to seek help?” he impulsively asked. The question surprised him. He had not thought of what he was going to say beforehand. It just popped into his head from out of nowhere.

  Pechard gave him a weary eye. “There were twelve of us. We three are all that are left.”

  “Are you ill? Did any of you catch the virus?” Mattox demanded.

  “Are all of you Normals?” Lucien added.

  The emissary glanced from one to the other before settling on the battle lord. “No, we didn’t catch the virus. That’s why Veers sent us. Because we were among the few who were still healthy enough to undertake this mission. And, yes, we are all Normals.”

  “How long has it been since you managed to escape your compound and make it to here?” Atty inquired.

  “It’s been…” The man silently counted the days. “Eight da- No, nine. Nine days…I think. Nine?” He turned to one of his companions.

  The soldier gave a slow nod. “Nine,” the man confirmed.

  “If it’s been nine days, then the compound’s probably fallen by now,” Mistelle remarked.

  “Not necessarily,” Yulen countered. He gestured to one of his men. “Show these gentlemen to the rooms at the other end of the hall. Finster, go find out why it’s taking Fergus so long—”

  “Never fear. The doctor is here,” a voice said from behind. Everyone turned around to see Iain MaGrath striding toward them, medical bag in hand.

  “Father summoned Fergus,” Mattox noted.

  Setting his satchel on the table, Iain looked at Pechard, but his response was for all of them. “Dr. Thrasher is down with a case of shingles and has been placed under quarantine. Because he’s unable to tend to his duties, he sent me in his stead.”

  Atty waved a hand at the strangers. “Emissary Pechard assures us he and his men did not suffer the virus, but I’d like you to verify that.” She faced Pechard. “I’m not calling you a liar, sir, but we need more than your word to reassure us.”

  “No offense taken, madam. I totally understand.”

  “Sir, I’m going to need for you to put these swabs in your mouth so I can test for the virus. Have you or any of your men sustained injuries?” He removed several sterile pieces of cloth from his bag as his eyes roved over their outward appearance.

  One man stepped forward. “I took a knife in my left leg.”

  Iain patted the table. “Sit up here and let me examine it. How about you two?”

  “We’re intact, but we’re tired and in need of food,” Pechard admitted. He faced Yulen again. “Will you be able to give us an answer soon?”