The Battle Lord Saga 02 - Her Battle Lord's Desire (29 page)

up. Wandering over to the Council table, Atty suddenly grabbed her husband by the arm and gave

it a tug. “Uh-uh. Not yet. Let’s go on another sightseeing tour.”

“Want me to get Liam?”

“No. Just you and me this time, okay?” She smiled up at him, letting him know she

wanted just his company for the next half-hour or so.

“Sounds like a good excuse to walk off lunch. Where to, my lady?”

“Home.”

Giving him another tug, she started to lead in the direction of the apartment houses.

Yulen laced his fingers with hers and followed. Before long, he was totally confused by the

winding streets, and he commented as such.

“The compound was intended to be a maze when it was originally designed and built, in

case of invasion,” she told him. “Having the enemy wandering through the streets gives our

hunters the chance to get to the roofs of the buildings.”

“So you can effectively ambush them and bring them down,” Yulen finished. “Ingenious.

And back when my men invaded the compound, they walked right into your hands.” He looked

at his wife, who had stopped and was staring at him. “If there had been any more of your people

up on the roof that night, you would have been able to kill us all, if not keep us at bay. If that had

been the case, I would have eventually brought in more soldiers and totally annihilated your

people. And you.”

They continued to stare at each other as the realization of how close they had come to

never finding each other became clearer. Atty walked into her husband’s arms, and together they

held each other tightly, almost desperately. Although fate had intervened, and their life together

had turned out the way it had, still the fact that so few factors could have forever changed things

was too frightening to think about.

Yulen buried his face in her hair, pressing her closer. “I want to make love to you, my

beautiful Atrilan. Right now. I want you to help me get rid of this sickening feeling in my

stomach that, had things been different...” He kissed her forehead, holding his lips there as he

murmured, “Tonight, when we’re alone in the tent, don’t let me for one second ever think back

on this again. Promise me you’ll erase it from my mind and fill it instead with only thoughts of

you. Of how much you love me as we confirm that love with our bodies.”

Despite the fact that their lives had intersected, and fate had allowed them to become

husband and wife, the future remained as blank as a sheet of paper, with happiness and despair yet

to fill it. At that moment Yulen needed to be close to her, as one with her, to make the

foreboding and fear he suddenly felt go away.

Atty gazed up into his eyes. Her face reflected his trepidation as well as his growing

hunger. “First let me show you this, Yul.”

She pulled on both his hands, and continued down one more serpentine street before

stopping in front of a doorway. Yulen glanced at the nondescript wooden door and single-paned

window set low in the wall beside it. There was a small flower box sitting on the outer ledge. He

started to question her why they had stopped there when his eyes locked back on the flower box.

On the small rosebush planted in it. A rosebush bearing a single brown rose.

Eenoi especially loved brown roses. Grew them in big pots by the front door of their

home.

“Up until the day before you first arrived here, this was my home. I lived here all my life,

until you took me away to Alta Novis,” she told him in a hushed voice.

This was the place where she’d been born. Where she had been raised. Where, as a

toddler, she had taken her first steps. Where she had reached puberty yet remained chaste. Her

home and her sanctuary.

“Who lives here now?” he asked. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the door. There

was a small, faded, but still visible, bloody handprint on the outer door jab. Yulen reached out

and touched it with a finger. Beside him he heard Atty snort softly.

“Mohmee was always chewing me out for not washing my hands properly before I came

home from a hunt. I was always leaving messy handprints everywhere. The door, the kitchen, my

bedroom.”

She saw Yulen’s questioning glance again. “Sergei and Emma Peters live here now with

their two sons. I told Sergei I was bringing you here to see it. Come. Let’s go in.”

Atty opened the unlocked door and stepped into the tiny living room. In doing so, she felt

as though no amount of time had passed since she last saw her mother and little sister. The

remains of an old fire was dying in the narrow fireplace. The three-legged stool she’d spent so

much time on was parked by the hearth. Turning around, she could see Yulen taking all of it in,

as if memorizing every detail.

“It’s exactly as it was when I lived here,” she told him. “When one’s family is killed or

dissolved, another family takes over. We don’t move furniture or pots and pans. Just personal

possessions.”

“It’s...small.”

Atty shrugged. “This whole apartment could fit in just our bedroom, but to me, when I

was growing up, it was enormous.”

He walked into the tiny kitchen area and placed his hands on the counters. “This is where

you learned to cook?”

“Actually, we did most of our cooking over the fire. But I’ve washed and dried my share

of dishes in that kitchen. Not to mention how many kills I cleaned in there.”

“What’s back there? The bedrooms?” He pointed to the only other door besides the front

door.

“Yeah.”

Down the short hall she showed him what had been her parents’ bedroom off to the right,

and then the second, smaller one on the left. Yulen pushed aside the curtain that served as a door

and looked inside. There were two small cots separated by an oval rag rug. The walls had typical

boyhood drawings tacked to it. He glanced over his shoulder at her. “You shared this room with

your sister?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, feeling the tears sticking in her throat. “She had to have the bed

next to the door. Keelor was sick a lot and...and Mohmee often had to come in during the night

to check on her.” She lifted her chin even though it trembled. “This was my home, Yul. This is

where my memories lie. It may not be as grand as where you grew up, but my mother and father

loved me and gave me the chance to become what I am now. I’m not ashamed of being Mutah,

or of anything else.”

“Why should you?” he challenged her gently. Bowing his head, he shook it gently. “I

only have one true regret in my life, and that is that I never had the chance to meet your parents.

Or your sister. At least Madigan has gotten to know you. There are times when I think about my

father and wonder how he would have taken to you. What he would have thought of you.”

Yulen closed the curtain and turned around to face her. His eyes were devoid of emotion.

“You keep talking about how my people are learning, or have learned to accept you. Well, I’m

asking you the same question. Atrilan, would your mother and father have accepted me? Or

would they never have gotten past the fact that I’m a Normal, and a Battle Lord, and the man

who ruthlessly killed your people without a second thought?”

Atty walked over to draw her arms around his neck as tears glittered briefly in her lashes

before falling to her cheeks. “If they had objected, it wouldn’t have mattered. Just like you

defended me against Madigan when she first denounced me, I would have defended you.”

“And now? There are people out there who still hate me. And they hate my men. But

they hate me even more. I took you away from them, and to all intents and purposes, they feel as

though you’ve betrayed them. Yet you’ll still defend me?”

“I will,” she whispered heatedly as his hands went up to clasp hers behind his neck. “I

will. You know I will. Deep inside your heart, you know I will. Just as I know inside my heart

you will be beside me. Always.”

His eyes were no longer empty and lifeless. As she gazed into them, they filled with

warmth and love, and they loomed larger and closer, until they blocked out everything in sight,

and she was forced to close her own eyes so she could savor the sweet tenderness of his kiss.

In the tiny hallway, outside the bedroom where she had dreamed young girl dreams of a

man who would hold her and love her, and bring her indescribable happiness—dreams she had

later given up as impossible because she believed no such love or happiness could ever exist for

her—she now held that very man in her arms with a fierceness that surprised her. Sobbing softly

into his shoulder, she let the warmth of his arms protect her until the last of the tears dried up.

Afterwards, she dried her face on his shirt as he smiled at her, and together they left the small

apartment home without ever looking back.

Chapter Twenty-Five
Small Blessings

“Yulen, may I abduct your wife for a while?” Tory Kalich graced the Battle Lord with a

wide smile soon after he and Atty had appeared back in the courtyard.

Smiling, he handed his wife over. “Would only seem fair,” he replied lightly, “seeing as

how I abducted her first.”

Both Mutah women gave him a strange look, knowing the man had just made an off-hand

remark regarding his very first contact with their people. As her husband walked off to get back

to work, Atty looked at Tory in wonder.

“Yeah. It surprised me, too,” the older woman admitted.

They were headed toward the rows of shops. Life in the compound had resumed

normalcy, despite its doubled population. It was a Friday, and that meant La Vernia and Bastion

were getting their baking done for the coming market day on Saturday. Atty sniffed the air and

smiled. “Boy, does that bring back memories.”

“Smells great, doesn’t it?” Tory commented as they passed by the shop. People waved at

the pair, calling out a greeting.

“Yeah. Brings back memories. Tory? Tell me truthfully?”

“What, sweetie?”

“Do they resent me marrying Yulen?”

Tory glanced over to see the young woman searching her face for the answer. “At first

we believed you’d been blackmailed into it. Truthfully, we thought that maybe he had forced

himself on you. But when you were brought back, and you begged to go back to him, we didn’t

know what to think. It was something we totally never expected, you wanting to stay with him.”

She sighed deeply and pursed her lips. “Then when he showed up and asked for you...”

Atty stopped and clasped the woman’s upper arm. “Tell me more. What happened?”

Tory’s face grew solemn. “You could see the man was dying inside. He never raised his

voice, never made demands. He only wanted to see you. I honestly think he believed you were

dead, and only wanted a chance to make his peace by seeing your body. Oh, Atty, he was

completely weaponless when he walked into the compound, completely willing to place himself

into our hands. Completely willing to let the Council pass their judgment on him.”

“No!” Atty’s eyes widened. “But they passed no judgment, didn’t they?”

“In a way, they did. They sent him away without letting him see you, or even letting him

know you were still alive. It was then I knew how much I resented what our Council had

become. And after talking with a lot of other people, I found I wasn’t alone in my thoughts.”

She watched her husband help the depleted woman into the house. Whatever had

occurred had wrung out what little strength Atty had managed to gather before heading off to

the Council meeting.

Quickly she rushed over before Atty melted to the floor and pulled her into her embrace.

“Come on. Let’s get you back in bed.”

A weak shake of dull blue hair was her answer. “Take me h-home.”

Tory scorched Fortune with her gaze. “What happened with the Council? What did they

say?”

“Atty asked them to let her go back to Alta Novis,” Fortune replied softly. “She wants to

go back to the Battle Lord.”

“And what did they say?” Tory hissed between her teeth. Atty lay pressed against her,

trembling as she listened to their conversation.

“They...they told her if they took her back that she couldn’t return as one of us. She

would be considered one of the enemy.”


What?
They said
what?
” Her own fury at the Council’s injustice raged deep in her
breast. Before she was aware of it, Tory let out an expletive that made Fortune pale. This side

of her was so rarely seen, he knew how dark her anger burned.

He opened his mouth to tell her more when she turned her back on him and half-carried,

half-dragged the young woman into the guest room, easing her gently down on the bed and

covering her with a fresh quilt.

The entire time he had carried Atty back to the house she hadn’t spoken a word. Her

plea to the Council had taken everything out of her, but it hadn’t ceased her determination to

return to Alta Novis. Fortune knew that if she had to, Atty would attempt the journey on foot by

herself, regardless of the dangers.

“The Council is letting her return,” he told his wife who had remained sitting on the edge

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