One Battle Lord’s Fate Page 2

  “Atrilan?” he murmured.

  Her eyes widened a split-second before he claimed her mouth a third time. He leaned over her as he forcefully took total possession of her lips, bending her backwards and taking her down in one swift move until she was lying on her back on the green grass.

  There was no mercy in his assault. Atty was caught up in the thunderstorm of feelings raining over them both. His mouth was starved for her response, thirsty for her answering desire. He was needing her after days and weeks and months of denial, and he passed that hunger to her.

  There was a terrible void in their lives now, one that was far worse than the one they had made themselves suffer. An unnecessary celibacy they had obeyed during those few days when they had denied themselves any lovemaking on their trip to Wallis. When she had kept him at bay while she searched for a contraceptive. This was an emptiness made deeper and more vast because of necessity.

  A necessity that was no longer an obstacle.

  Atty whimpered as his tongue parted her lips, her teeth, and found her own. He dove into her, pressing hard as his mouth slanted over hers. He took her tongue and began to suckle it, and the bolt of pure heat that exploded within her had her grasping the front of his tunic with trembling hands. Involuntarily her body arched beneath his, and the contact between them was a hundred molten points of fire igniting them, searing them. Atty moaned as her hips lifted to rub along the huge ridge bulging at his groin.

  Yulen jerked his head up. He was breathing heavily as he stared down at her, his hands clutching her arms. Atty stared back up at him. Her fingertips touched her bruised lips.

  “What did you feel, Atrilan?” he growled throatily, softly. “Did you feel anything?”

  Her breath hitched in her throat as she nodded. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything except reach for him and anchor her fingers in his red-gold hair. Her body frightened her, with its river of ice making her belly clench while her skin tingled with heat. She wanted more. She wanted him to kiss her again. Harder. And deeper.

  She wanted him.

  *

  He bowed his head as he fought for control. He could feel his erection thickened to the point of bursting. Staring between their bodies he could see her wondrously full breasts pressing against her tunic. The nipples, blushed from nursing their son, pointed through the fabric. Further down, her fuller hips were raised, her long, extraordinary legs parted in invitation, the five small buttons fastening her pants…

  Yulen shivered. His own pants were excruciatingly tight. “Atrilan, when do you go see Liam again?”

  Her lower lip quivered as she tried to control her breathing. The air between fairly crackled with their restraint. Their bodies were like opposite poles on a magnet, pulsing with fire as they tried to connect. “N-next week. The eighth.”

  “Damn!”

  He pushed himself away from her and sat up. A quick glance over at their son assured him the baby was still asleep. Several deep breaths did little to cool his blood. Looking back at his wife, he watched as she sat up. Her face was pale, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I’m sorry, my love,” he apologized gently.

  “Sorry for what?”

  He chuckled, but without humor. “I should have waited until Liam released you before doing something like that.”

  “Like what? Like kissing me? You haven’t kissed me like that in ages, Yul.”

  “It’s not that I haven’t wanted to,” he confessed with a wry grin.

  She shivered. “What are we going to do?” It was taking everything in her not to jump him and wrestle him to the soft grass.

  Yulen groaned softly. “There’s not much we can do, my only love, except wait for Liam’s blessings.”

  “A whole week?”

  “I…we can’t take the risk. If we make love before Liam believes it’s safe, we may do more harm to you. And then we’d be right back where we were, having to wait an ungodly long time again.”

  They sat in silence, not touching as they waited for their bodies to calm enough to where they could find some sort of normalcy once more. Finally, it was Atty who asked, “You still want to go over to the practice field and get some sword play in?” She saw her husband nod. “Can I still come with you?”

  This time he turned to give her one of those boyish grins that always managed to melt her heart. “Please.”

  Getting to their feet, he carefully picked up their son and cradled him against his broad shoulder as Atty stuffed the book into her quiver, and grabbed her bow and the carrier. Together they descended the small hill in silence to where the soldiers were engaged in mock battle.

  Chapter Three

  Waiting

  The arrival of the Battle Lord and Lady caused a slight stir. Spectators and participants paused to watch and wait. Yulen ignored their stares as he approached the soldier overseeing the sessions.

  “Avery, right?” he addressed the man preparing to call out the names of the next two combatants. At the soldier’s nod, he said, “It’s time I got back into shape. Who’s next on the list?”

  “Walters, Sir.”

  “I would like to take that challenge,” a rough voice called out, overriding the growing noise from the crowd.

  Atty turned to see Renken standing on the other side of the risers. She gave the man a small smile. He bowed his head slightly.

  “Very well, Renken.” Yulen smiled. “I figured sooner or later you would try my mettle. Let’s see what you’ve got.” He handed Mattox to Atty, who moved off to one side to watch.

  He owed the ex-mercenary more than he could ever begin to repay. When Garet Renken had first rode into Alta Novis to offer his arm and his sword to the Battle Lord, Yulen had accepted the offer but with a goodly amount of care. He needed men like Renken. What he didn’t want was someone who would switch his allegiance to whoever had the biggest purse to offer for his skills.

  However, in the months that had followed, Yulen had come to see a lot more in the man than what was visible on the outside. It also didn’t surprise him to find out how quickly Atty had accepted Renken into her circle of trust. Yulen valued his wife’s instincts above his own. When the Bloods had captured him during the massacre at Bearinger and Atty had gathered over a hundred volunteers and militia to rescue him and the other survivors, Renken had been among the first to join up.

  The man was fast becoming indispensable. More so, if circumstances had been different and Renken had joined his army of highly trained warriors, Yulen would have had no problem with advancing the man up in the ranks until he was one of the Battle Lord’s Seconds.

  Striding into the circle, the ex-mercenary doffed his shirt. “I won’t be easy on you, D’Jacques,” he warned.

  “You better not be,” the Battle Lord replied, dropping his weapons belt and pulling off his tunic as well.

  A collective gasp went up from the crowd watching as they saw for the first time the evidence left behind of the Bloods’ torture. Long, ropey scars crisscrossed the man’s chest and stomach, but the worst were the ones around his abdomen. Some of the redder marks still looked too fresh. Although Atty was accustomed to seeing them after all those months of nursing him back to health, he still saw a shudder run through her at the memory of the pain they had caused him.

  He also caught Renken’s hesitation upon seeing them. Renken knew how gravely he’d been wounded, but until now the man had no idea how badly. When Yulen turned around, they received a second shock. Large swatches of skin down both sides of his spine were glistening in the morning sun, pinkish-white against the darker skin of his back. Mute testimony of when the Blood leader had literally skinned him alive.

  Accepting the wooden practice sword, the Battle Lord advanced into the circle to face his opponent. Renken did likewise.

  “You’ve been looking forward to this for some time, haven’t you?” Yulen murmured to the man so only he could hear.

  Renken glanced over at Atty. “You damn right, I ha
ve.”

  “Eyes on me, Renken.”

  “Don’t worry about me, D’Jacques. Just worry about my sword drawing first blood.”

  “Sir?”

  Yulen glanced over at Avery. “Want me to time this, Sir?” the soldier asked.

  “Let’s time it. I’m curious to see what kind of stamina I have,” Yulen replied.

  Avery nodded. “All right, gentlemen. You know the rules. Symbolic first blood drawn declares the winner. As this is a timed trial, you will be given a three-minute rest between each bout. Any questions? Very well. En guarde!”

  Both men began to circle each other, sizing each other up. Both wore identical small smiles that were not meant to show any humor. Renken attacked first, slashing at Yulen’s legs. Yulen nimbly jumped back and pivoted, slashing backhanded. In the nick of time, Renken blocked the sword, rolling away from the awkward hit. He immediately set the man up for a fake lunge. Yulen started to dart in the opposite direction, when he spotted the subterfuge and brought his weapon downward, barely missing the ex-mercenary’s right arm.

  “You’re good,” Renken reluctantly admitted.

  “I’m out of shape,” Yulen replied, panting slightly. He took the offense, hacking in a flurry of quick, determined strokes. Renken did his best to intercept them all as he backed away a few steps. Falling to his side, he rolled unexpectedly to one side and got up on his knees to attack from the rear…only to find his opponent not where he was supposed to be. A movement from the corner of his eye warned him barely in time to block the downstroke. The flat sounds of their imitation weapons clashing together echoed dully in the morning air. For a long moment, their blades locked at the guards until Yulen voluntarily backed off.

  “Don’t do me any favors,” Renken told him. Yulen figured it stung the man’s pride that he hadn’t been given the chance to shove the Battle Lord away. He had been looking for a chance, any chance, to show the blue-haired woman standing nearby how expert he was with a weapon. Atty had taken him into battle but she had been too busy fighting the Blood Leader to notice his skill.

  “Didn’t plan to.” Yulen smiled. He lunged at the man, then suddenly dropped and pivoted in an attempt to cut him off at the knees. Renken barely had time leap out of the way, but as he landed, he thought he saw his chance, and his arm came down in a flat-sided hit. An instant away from his shoulder, Yulen slipped his weapon under the ex-mercenary’s, and it was Yulen’s sword that smacked against pale skin.

  “Hold!”

  Both men stepped away from each other, retiring to opposite sides of the circle to catch their breaths and grab a drink of water from the skins hanging from one of the thin posts ringing the field. By now, quite a large crowd had gathered to watch the confrontation.

  *

  Atty listened quietly to those around her, hearing their comments and their exclamations upon seeing the Battle Lord’s scars. Sometimes evidence spoke more loudly than words ever could. Yulen had risked his life to protect them. It was only right they saw the results of his sacrifice.

  “Isn’t it turning out to be a beautiful day?” a voice brightly asked behind her.

  Atty turned around to see Tory with a cheerful expression on her face. “Good morning, Tory. Sleep well last night?”

  The Mutah woman gave her a motherly look. “You mean, other than when poor little Mattox was having a bad time of it, didn’t you little man?” She took the baby from Atty’s arms and cuddled the sleeping infant.

  “He didn’t keep you up, did he?”

  “No, no,” Tory answered, patting the tiny bottom. “It wasn’t anything serious, was it? I only heard him once or twice, but it wasn’t enough to keep Fortune and me up.”

  Sighing, Atty shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. He wouldn’t stop crying, no matter what we did.” She hoped the woman wouldn’t notice the darkening under her eyes, which mutely told of other nights when the baby had given her no rest. “He’s not coming down sick, is he?”

  “Nah. Babies get cranky. You have to remember, Atty, there was no night and day when he was inside you. He’s going to have to learn to sleep at night and be awake during the day. Right now his cycles are all screwed up. Plus he doesn’t have your warmth around him any longer. He doesn’t hear your heart beating beside him. It’s a scary place he lives in now, all noisy and colder.” She placed a tender kiss on the tiny head as she continued to hold the infant against her. “How about you, Atty? You look like you’re a bit worn out from all this. Are you doing okay?”

  “Yeah.” Atty gave her a weak smile. “I’m fine.”

  She should have accepted the fact that Tory’s sharp eyes missed nothing. Plus the fact that the woman’s female intuition was in full force. Tory reached out to snag the young woman’s sleeve, and tugged on it. “Come here a minute.” She pulled Atty farther away from the combatant circle, over to where their conversation couldn’t be overheard. Once she was certain they were out of eavesdrop distance, Tory gave Atty a hard stare. “Fortune and I need to speak to you and Yulen as soon as you have a spare moment.”

  Atty’s eyes cut to where her husband was once again in the circle with Renken. Tory continued to look into her face, looking for telltale signs of the truth. She wondered if the older woman would also spot the emptiness there. And longing. Definitely a longing, almost painful in its wistfulness, to the point where she sometimes wanted to huddle into a ball.

  “Atty?”

  She turned to look at her friend.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Atty bit her lower lip, wondering how to answer. Without realizing it, she turned back to the sight of the two men. Tory followed her gaze. It was good to see Yulen almost back at his peak. It had been a hard road they’d traveled these past few months.

  “Atty, you know you can talk to me about anything,” she whispered in a low voice.

  A silent tear appeared at the tip of her lower lashes. “I…I don’t go see Liam for another week,” she began, pausing. Reaching up, she trailed gentle fingertips down her son’s back. “It’s going…it’s going to be h-hard to wait that long…or longer,” she finally admitted with a soft hiccup. Another tear appeared, and both crystal droplets fell onto her cheek.

  “What happened, Atty? Are you starting to get those feelings again?” Tory tilted her head to whisper, “Are you wanting to make love to your husband again?” At Atty’s silent nod, she grimaced. “Why not go see the doctor now? Why wait?”

  “Be-because it may be too soon. We’re afraid.”

  “But if your bodies are calling to each other, doesn’t that tell you something? Go to the man and have him check you out, Atty. You have nothing to lose. The worst he can say is you’ll have to wait a little while longer.” She flashed her another bright smile. “Look, when did you last feed Mattox?”

  “About half an hour ago. Why?”

  “I think I’d like to take him for a little stroll around the compound. Let him get a good look at all he’s going to inherit. Then maybe by that time Fortune will be finished with whatever nonsense he’s involved in over at the soldiers’ barracks, and we can take in lunch.” Her eyes twinkled. “Go to Dr. MaGrath and find out, Atty. If the news is good, don’t forget to lock the front door.”

  Atty’s answering stare was priceless. “Are you sure?”

  Giggling, Tory gave her a quick peck on the cheek and left her to fend for herself. Atty watched her friend walk away, then turned to see her husband still in mock battle. Without waiting for him to finish, she took off for the clinic at her top speed.

  *

  For the third time, Yulen’s blade barely passed over Renken’s arm. The near miss earned a chuckle from the ex-mercenary, and shouts and cheers from the crowd.

  “You’re tiring, D’Jacques,” he panted. “Your arm doesn’t appear to be solid.”

  “I’m just getting my second wind,” Yulen assured him. He would never admit that his muscles were aching from the workout. He would pay for his overexertion tonight when his body refu
sed to let him get any rest.

  Avery called another time out, and Yulen went to get a drink from the waterskin. Some distance away he saw Tory talking to Atty as she took Mattox from his wife and put him across her shoulder. He smiled. The woman had been a godsend for them, and especially for his wife. She was the mother to replace the one Atty had lost, plus a very good friend.

  Wiping the sweat from his face with his tunic, Yulen continued to watch them until time was called. Picking up his wooden sword, he turned to face Renken for the next round. By this time, he had the man’s moves down pat. Renken had a habit of dragging for a split-second whenever he started to lunge. The next time he tried that stunt again, Yulen would have him.

  They sparred, watching for the next opening, when Renken’s eyes suddenly focused over Yulen’s shoulder. Their movement alerted him, and Yulen pivoted under the man’s swing to glance behind him. Atty was running at full tilt away from the practice field, heading for the interior of the compound.

  A sword flashed past his nose. “Eyes on me, D’Jacques.”

  “Hold,” Yulen called.

  “You can’t call a hold,” Renken snapped back.

  “Damn it, I said hold!” Yulen froze, showing his irritation at the man.

  Too late to check his swing, Renken’s blade struck the Battle Lord on the upper arm, smacking the biceps with a flat sound.

  “First blood, Renken,” Avery announced.

  As shouts and applause erupted from the crowd, Yulen tossed his sword to the ground and went to gather up his weapons belt. Renken strode over to where the Battle Lord hurried to redress. “What’s wrong? Why did you call a hold?” he asked angrily.

  “I saw Atty running for the compound.” Another image came to him, and Yulen turned to stare into the distance. Tory had Mattox.

  “Will you be needing any help?” the man automatically offered.

  Yulen shook his head. “No. But I need to go find her and see what’s up.” He started to leave when Renken grabbed his arm. He saw the man’s eyes widen as he stared first at the Battle Lord’s weapons belt, then up at his face.