This Battle Lord's Quest (3 page)

Yulen slowly slid inside her, moving an inch at a
time, giving her inner muscles a chance to yield to his length and pressure as
they coated him with her juices. Pressing, filling, taking her completely,
until he was sheathed all the way. Adjusting himself slightly, he leaned over,
brushed away her hair, and licked the back of her neck. His fingertips roamed
down her sides, tickling her until the gooseflesh rose in their wakes.

“My beloved Atrilan. Didn’t you tell me this was
your fertile time?”

“Yessss.” Her breathy answer was cut short as he
placed kisses across her shoulders and back. She shivered at his touch. At the
same time, Yulen pulled out a bit, then pressed back inside. Out and in,
keeping the rhythm steady, rocking them both on top of the table. She moaned in
pleasure.

“I’ve missed this,” he murmured above her. “I
sometimes see you walking about the compound, and I remember waking up next to
you. I remember wanting to make love to you, but I’m needed elsewhere. I have
to leave you lying there, but I spend the day thinking of you. Wishing I could
follow you into the woods like we used to in the beginning, and have you over
and over.”

Atty pressed her cheek to the flat surface, her
fingers gripping the edges. This is what she loved, the way he talked to her.
The way he built upon her passion and his one gradual layer at a time.

His speed increased, his command of her body
all-encompassing. He was pounding into her with such force, the table squeaked
with each movement. She could feel herself rising.

He shoved her blouse into a bunch around her neck
and reached for her breasts again. This time, instead of shoving her hips
against him, he held her steady and thrust with his own, spinning a new
sensation through her.

“Yul!”

He grunted with each plunge inside her. There were
no words to describe how wonderful this moment was, or how much she had been
needing him. She could hear her heart pounding, the blood ringing in her ears.
So close. So near.

Yulen hesitated, halted, and she gasped.

“What? No! Don’t stop!”

The pounding repeated itself. At the same time, she
could make out the sound of bells chiming. Her body trembled in the wake of
their lovemaking. She had almost come. She had almost reached her peak, and she
knew Yulen was still hard and heavy within her.

“Sir!” The pounding echoed inside the house.
Someone was at the front door, demanding entry, demanding attention.

Yulen muttered an obscenity and withdrew from her
body. “Something’s happening. Get dressed, Atty,” he ordered darkly as he tried
to stuff himself back into his pants.

The clanging continued. Loud. Echoing.
Tolling three
times, a pause, three more times.
She knew what it meant before she pulled
up her own breeches and watched her husband stride to the door. Her every nerve
was on edge in the event of an emergency.

The Battle Lord threw open the door, sword at
ready. The soldier standing there nearly jumped back as Yulen barked at him.

“
What?
”

“I-I come at the request of MaGrath,” the man
stammered. He got no further. Yulen dashed past him, with Atty at his heels.

They burst inside the clinic to find the physician
sitting in the waiting room. They could see the man was exhausted, but he
smiled warmly and got to his feet when they arrived.

“Mother?” Yulen gasped, grabbing the man’s
shoulder.

“She’s fine. We’re done, and you have a brother.”

“A brother?”

Atty laughed at the look of disbelief on her
husband’s face. “You have a baby brother, Yulen! Mattox has an uncle!” Throwing
her arms around MaGrath’s neck, she kissed the man on the cheek.
“Congratulations, Liam! Welcome to fatherhood!”

Chapter
Three

Offer

“Liam, we have to come to a decision.”

Atty glanced over to see Madigan sternly facing the
physician. Over near the fire, Mattox galloped his toy horse in the air above
the infant sleeping in the crib. All throughout the day, people had been coming
by to leave small gifts and to see the tiny newborn. The only problem they’d
encountered was when they asked what the child’s name was.

“And don’t for one second think I’m going to let
you call him Augustus,” the woman continued firmly. “Not even for a middle
name.”

“To be truthful, Maddy, I never wanted to name him
Augustus,” MaGrath admitted sheepishly. “I just threw that one out there so
that you wouldn’t turn away my second choice.”

“Which is?”

“Iain.”

“Iain?”

“It was my grandfather’s name. Spelled I-A-I-N, but
pronounced ‘Ee-uhn’.”

“My grandfather’s name was Stuart.”

The man smiled. “I like Stuart. What do you say,
Maddy? Iain Stuart MaGrath?”

Atty swooped down to prevent Mattox from riding the
wooden animal over the infant’s face. “I like it,” she told the couple. “It’s a
strong name.”

“So do I,” a voice announced from the doorway.
Saxon strode into the living area and parked himself on the edge of the divan
where Madigan was resting. “How are you feeling, my dear?” he inquired,
wrapping his fingers around her wrist.

“Tired.”

The man snorted. “I’ve no doubt. Your color has
come back. Your appetite will, too. And given a little time, those dark rings
under your eyes will fade. Mmm, good strong heart rate.”

“What about her milk production?” MaGrath asked.
“Is there anything we can give her to help?”

“I’m afraid not.” The man smiled at Madigan.
“Carrying this child as long as you did was a miracle.”

“A miracle, thanks to my husband.”

“But, unfortunately, there’s nothing I can suggest
or offer to make your breasts produce milk. I’ve seen many women who were
unable to breastfeed their babies. They had to give them an alternate source
like cow or goat milk. If they were very lucky, they were able to find a
nursemaid.” He nodded in the direction of the crib. “He will need to start
feeding soon.”

“I’ve already asked Berta get on that,” MaGrath
said. “She should be delivering the first set of feeding sacks soon.”

“Thank you again, Saxon.” Madigan reached over to
grasp the man’s arm. “You were a prayer answered.”

“How long can you stay?” MaGrath asked.

Saxon released the wrist and glanced around the
room. “That’s what I came to discuss with you.” He turned to Atty. “Since
you’re the Battle Lord’s Lady, I take it you would have a major say in
accepting my request.”

“What request?”

“I wish to remain here.”

“From now on?” Madigan gasped.

“What about the medical school?” MaGrath
questioned.

Saxon shook his head. “I’m getting too far along in
my years. The winters up north have gotten too brutal for my bones.” He waggled
a finger at MaGrath. “Those letters we’ve exchanged ever since you left Far
Troit, especially your more recent ones, the ones where you tell me about the
medicinal herbs and practices you’ve learned from the Mutah? I haven’t felt
such an intense desire to dip my hands back into working with the infirmed in
years. In fact, I haven’t felt any sort of interest in anything since Remella
died last year.”

“Remella?” Atty repeated.

“His wife,” MaGrath said. “What about your son and
daughter?” he directed to the elderly man.

Saxon waved a hand. “They live in different
compounds, along with their spouses and kids. I hear from them every now and
then, but hardly get to see them. They say the roads are too dangerous.” A
smile creased the corners of the physician’s lips. “Of course, if I took up
residence here, chances are they might be willing to make the trip to come visit.
After all, this is Alta Novis.” He grinned at Atty, then turned back to
MaGrath. “You’re not a young sprout anymore, either. Why don’t you have someone
interning under you?”

“I did, but he was killed in a skirmish.” MaGrath
shrugged. “Honestly, I haven’t had the time to actively seek out someone else
to train.”

“Which brings me to my second proposition. This
area is growing in population. It’s too many people for one man alone to tend
to.”

MaGrath’s eyes widened. “Are you thinking of
setting up practice here?”

“Something better. I want to open up a second
school of medicine.”

Everyone gasped in surprise. After having a moment
to think about it, Madigan glanced at Atty. “Could Alta Novis support such an
endeavor?”

Atty already knew the answer, and gave Saxon a sad
smile. “Alta Novis is growing at such a rate now, we’re hard pressed to keep it
running smoothly. I don’t see how we could sustain setting up a major school
like that.”

“What about Foster City?” Madigan offered.

“What about New Bearinger?” MaGrath intervened.

Atty brightened. “New Bearinger would be perfect!
The compound is small, but it has lots of space for expansion. It’s well
fortified, and it’s only a few days’ ride from here!”

“I didn’t come here to take away your practice or
your patients,” Saxon told them. “I came to offer my assistance and years of
knowledge. In return, I want to establish a separate learning facility. More
than that, I want to open it to the Mutah communities. I want them to share
their years of knowledge about the local plant life, and any other diseases and
remedies they can teach us about.”

As one, all three people looked to Atty. For her,
the answer was simple. “I think we would be idiots to turn down this chance,
and I know Yulen will agree with me. Go ahead and make your plans, Saxon.” She
got to her feet and held out a hand to her son. “Come on, Mattox. Let’s go find
Daddy.”

“Duddy Battoh Ward,” the child commented, grasping
her fingers.

“That’s right. Saxon? We will set you up in a small
apartment here in the compound. You’re welcome to stay as our guest for as long
as you want. As soon as I know where, I’ll send a man to show you where it’s
located.”

“Excellent!” The old man’s eyes sparkled.

“Mattox, say goodbye to Iain.”

The young boy gazed up at her, pink eyes quizzing.
Atty pointed to the crib.

“The baby’s name is Iain. Can you say Iain?”

“Eeen.”

MaGrath laughed. “Close enough. Come, Saxon. Let’s
take this into my office where we can start drawing up plans, and let my wife
and son rest in quiet.” The man paused. “My son.” The words were whispered
almost in disbelief as his eyes rested on the small crib that had originally
been Mattox’s.

Giving her own son’s hand a little tug, Atty led
him out the back door and into the main hall, where they nearly ran into Vita,
one of Berta’s kitchen help. The young woman carried a bucket with a lid.

“Hi, Madam!”

“Let me guess. The milk sacks for Iain?”

Vita frowned. “Who’s Iain? Oh! Is that what they
named him? How cute! Excuse me, but I need to hurry and deliver this, and get
back to the kitchen.”

Atty pulled Mattox to the side to allow the woman
to go by. Several soldiers already seated at the table and waiting for their
trenchers to arrive waved and called out in greeting. Atty waved back and
started to exit out the side door, when she heard her name. It was Berta, who
hurried to catch up to her.

“Madam, do you have a moment?”

“For you, always. What’s up?”

“Have you seen our storage lately?”

“I’m sorry. No. Tell me about it.” Atty knew she
had assumed a huge enterprise when she’d taken over the compound duties, as
required of all Battle Lords’ ladies in the past. With Alta Novis growing
daily, those duties had increased, until there were weeks that would go by
without her having the opportunity to go hunting for food, much less pleasure.

Berta nodded with understanding. “I’ve tapped
Fortune and his hunting buddies to help gather game to supplement our larders,
but these past couple of months, they’ve barely managed to forage enough to
feed all the soldiers.”

Barely enough? This was troubling news. “What else
did he say?”

“Not much. You might want to discuss it with him.
He was very apologetic.”

If Fortune Kalich, one of the best Mutah hunters
she’d ever know, had difficulty obtaining game for the tables, circumstances
had to be bad.

“Thanks for bringing it to my attention. I’ll go
speak with him.”

A heavy tug on her hand reminded her Mattox was
getting restless to go.

“Oh, one more thing. Do you know of anyone who
might offer to be a nursemaid to Iain, Liam’s new baby?”

Berta’s face lit up. “Ooh, that little darling.
They named him Iain? Darling name. No. I don’t know of anyone at the moment
who’s still nursing who could make the offer. Why? Is the Madam unable to feed
him?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

The head cook nodded. “It’s not unusual, given the
Madam’s age. It’s a miracle the baby came at all. I’ll put out the word you’re
looking.”

“Great.” Atty gave the woman’s arm a squeeze of
thanks. “I’ll get back with you about the larder. How are we doing in the meantime?”

“I can serve another three meals. Maybe four, if I
can get some more vegetables to augment it. I’d hate to have to slaughter a
cow. We’re going to need every head of cattle to help us through the winter.”

The woman was right. If game was scarce now, it
would be practically impossible to find once the snows arrived.

Leaving the main lodge, Atty debated with herself
whether to first seek out her husband to tell him the good news about Saxon, or
to find Fortune and discuss the food shortage. She was nearly at her lodge when
a familiar voice called out.

“My grandmother used to call that ruminating.”

Atty halted and glanced back to see Yulen’s Second
trotting up to join her. “Hi, Mastin! What did you say?”

He made a circling motion with his hand around his
face. “That deep frown on your face just now. Whenever my grandfather looked
that way, Grandmums said he was ruminating. Thinking hard thoughts. Hey, Matt!
How’s my boy?” He picked up the child and playfully tossed him into the air,
eliciting a delighted giggle from the toddler.

She gave a tired sigh. “I’m definitely ruminating.
Where’s Yulen?”

“Over by the north gate. Do you need me to fetch
him?” He put the child back down, but continued to hold onto the length of rope
that was always attached to the child these days.

“What’s with the north gate?” Normally the man
would be with the Battle Lord, unless he’d been sent on an errand.

“He’s thinking of widening it, to allow large carts
to pass through.”

“Have you seen Warren?”

“He was still on the practice field when I left
there this morning.”

Atty silently reprimanded herself. That was another
thing she was in arrears with. She hadn’t made time for some decent target
practice in over a week.

A warm hand clutched her upper arm. She raised her
face to meet Mastin’s concerned gaze.

“Atty, stop that right now.”

“Stop what?”

“Ever since Rafe’s death, you’ve gotten into your
head that somehow you were responsible. You’re trying to take on caring for the
whole compound, but you can’t. Not anymore. It’s too much for one person.”

She flashbacked to her imprisonment and torture at
the hands of Yulen’s half-brother and his men. “If I had been more diligent—”

“Oh, that’s bullshit, Atty, and you know it,” the
Second sternly stated. “No one knew what that maniac had planned. No one saw it
coming, not even Yulen, or else he wouldn’t have gone with Batuset back to
Foster City.” He gave her a little shake. “Alta Novis is twice the size it was
when you first arrived. Quit trying to take on all its problems and overseeing
every little detail, and start delegating, or else you’re going to burn
yourself out.”

Atty narrowed her eyes. “Did you come here to beat
me over the head until I came to my senses? Or was there another reason why
you’re not over at the north gate with Yulen?” Although she tried to sound
strict, she knew Mastin could see right through her. As she expected, the man
laughed and dropped his hand.

“The hunters’ caste has asked to meet with him. He
wants you there.”

“When? Now?”

“Yeah. He’s holding up the talks until you can get
there.”

“Are they meeting at the north gate?”

“At the practice field.”

Atty glanced down where Mattox was calmly sitting
on the ground and playing in the dirt with his toy horse and a twig.