by Linda Mooney
Matriman dropped down off his horse and stepped forward at the command.
“Show the battle lords where they can pitch their tents.” That being said, Highcliff turned to leave without bidding them goodbye or a safe night, and headed for the main lodge, when LeGreen called out to him.
“Pardon me, Highcliff, but might I have a word with you in private?”
Highcliff turned to answer. By his actions, Atty knew the battle lord had been expecting the interruption. She knew it as sure as the cold feeling of dread that was beginning to chill the marrow in her bones.
“Certainly,” Highcliff accepted.
LeGreen glanced at his second. “Bastion, take the men to section C and have them set up camp. Then come back here when you’re done.”
Nodding, Bastion turned his horse around where Matriman had already remounted and was waiting for them to follow. Atty watched her husband hoist himself into his saddle with a little grunt. From the look he shot her, he also had warning bells going off in his head. She couldn’t wait to hear what had alarmed him, and to let him know of her own suspicions.
For all the frivolity and joyous aspects of the faire that was meant to accompany the summit, she sensed a layer of blackness underneath. It carried with it a foreboding that stank like rancid meat.
And she didn’t like that feeling one damn bit.
Chapter Twenty-Six
News
They were led around the outskirts of the faire to their section. Along the way, Atty caught sight of fire-eaters, jugglers, clowns, and acrobats. There were cages containing wolfen, a badger, and a few other creatures she couldn’t identify. Plus a multitude of vendors selling everything from food to clothing and pottery. Most of the attendees were soldiers, although she spotted a few women in the crowds.
To get to the next area, they passed through another massive gate of wood and iron, similar to the main one, only not as wide. Armed soldiers were stationed approximately every fifty yards on top of the ramparts. Everywhere she looked, steps had been taken to ensure the attendees’ safety. The place was secured. Perhaps too tightly, she noted to herself.
Mastin and Paxton were already seeing to the men. Atty noticed her tent had been set up in the center of their assigned area, with the soldiers’ tents ringing it. Batuset and his men were situated directly next to them, for which she was glad.
Yulen was slumping in his saddle when they arrived. He tried to dismount, and began to slide to the ground when Renken caught him. Mastin got his legs, and together they carried the battle lord into the silver and blue tent, laying him down amid the pillows. Atty quickly covered him with a quilt.
“Warren, is there a fire started in the brazier?”
“No, but I’ll get one going.”
She lovingly stroked her husband’s forehead, pushing the sweat-damp hair out of his eyes. His face was pinched, making him appear decades older than his actual age. She could hear him struggle for every breath.
Yulen tried to bat away her hand as consciousness returned. She grasped his wrist as she made a shushing sound to quiet him. “It’s all right, my love. You’re inside our tent.”
“I need…to sit up,” he gasped, and she remembered earlier when he’d said he couldn’t breathe unless he was upright. Without needing to be asked, Mastin held him as Paas piled several pillows to where Yulen was more comfortable.
“Did I…miss anything?” Yulen tried to give her a smile, but the corners of his mouth drooped.
With their seconds present, including Renken, she figured this time was as good as any to let him know what she’d observed. “Yulen, are you able to understand me?” she gently asked.
He managed to lift one corner of his mouth. Forcing himself to present an imposing figure to Highcliff had drained the last of his reserves.
“What ‘cha got for me, Atty?”
“You felt it, too, didn’t you?” she asked him. Glancing over where the others had taken a seat nearby, she told them, “There’s all sorts of wrong with this summit.”
“There’s also a lot of questions I can’t find any answers for,” Batuset remarked. Before they could ask what sort of questions, he explained. “Like, for instance, why make us go down that dangerous slope? You know good and well there’s another, safer, and bigger trail we could have used. How else would they be able to get their own wagons down to the floor of this canyon?” He waved a hand to indicate outside the tent. “You can’t tell me all those performers out there had to use the same dinky-ass route as we were forced to use.”
“It’s obvious they didn’t want us to bring our own wagons down,” Atty rebutted. “But I agree with you. That route was a ploy. A means to an end.”
“Atty, what are you sensing?” Renken spoke up.
“Yeah. What did you mean there’s all sort of wrong here?” Paxton added.
“Highcliff…and LeGreen,” Yulen gasped.
Atty picked up the thread. “Exactly. If I read those two correctly, Highcliff expected LeGreen to ask permission to speak with him privately. It was if they were reading off a prepared script.”
They were interrupted when Thrasher entered the tent unannounced. “Sorry I’m late, but this compound’s doctor wanted to interrogate me about LeGreen’s injured man. He also asked about Yulen.”
Atty felt her guard go up. “What did he ask?”
“Most of his questions were the same ones I would ask if anyone showing a visible illness entered the compound. What were his symptoms. Did I feel the man was contagious. What medications had I prescribed for him. But…” The doctor hesitated.
“But?” Mastin urged.
“But… I don’t know. Call it what you will, but I would almost swear the man seemed happy to learn of Yulen’s distress. So I tested him.”
Atty blinked. “You tested him?”
“Yes. I told him what Dr. Tridor had prescribed for him in Oka City.” Thrasher’s expression darkened. “The man agreed with Tridor’s diagnosis and medication. Atty, you and Yulen, and I and all of us know Tridor’s medicants were little more than placebos. Dr. Osburg just proved to me he’s either wholly incompetent, or he’s involved in whatever scheme is being hatched.”
“Why do you feel Osburg’s an accomplice?” Renken inquired. He was the only person who’d remained on his feet, as was his habit. “Just because he agreed with the other doctor’s diagnosis doesn’t mean he’s a part of whatever scheme is being cooked up.”
Thrasher turned to the man. “I’ve suspected something because of the medicant prescribed in the first place. Yulen should have shown some kind of progress, but there was nothing. I may be young, but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid. Plus, I’ve never heard of the concoction Tridor prescribed. And for Osburg to agree only confirmed my suspicions. Any doctor worth his medical degree isn’t going to take the word of another without first examining the patient. It just isn’t done, nor is it ethical. For Osburg to blow off my concerns by agreeing to Tridor’s diagnosis, and not coming here to look at Yulen, tells me the man isn’t practicing medicine for our benefit!”
“Ho! D’Jacques of Alta Novis!”
“What the?” Mastin arose and exited out the tent, but he remained directly in front of the flap so that everyone within could hear. “I’m Mastin, D’Jacques’ second. The battle lord is in a meeting at the moment. What do you need?”
“There is a Mutah and a small cadre of men carrying his banner outside the main gates. They’re requesting to see your master.”
“Twoson,” Atty whispered.
“We’ve been expecting them,” Mastin replied. “Please allow them in.”
“We need you to come escort them,” the guard countered.
A moment later, Mastin stuck his head through the doorway. “I’m going to fetch Twoson and the others. I’ll be right back,” he told them, and left.
“Oh, thank the heavens they’re back safely,” Paas remarked.
“Yeah, but what the hell was that comment the guard made about seeing th
eir master?” Renken glanced around the tent. “Since when is a battle lord anyone’s master? Commander or general, I can see. But master has an ownership vibe to it that rubs me the wrong way.”
“A lot of…battle lords…continue to…rule with such a hand,” Yulen murmured. “It was the…norm…for generations.”
“Let’s hope Twoson managed to bring back some medicine that’ll help you,” Atty said.
“Atty, is there anything else you need to bring to our attention?” Renken asked.
She shook her head. “Nothing I can put a definite finger on. Everyone needs to keep their eyes open. Be aware of anything that appears out of the ordinary. Anything, no matter how small or insignificant you may think it is.”
“In that case, I’m going to head over to the faire.” The ex-mercenary turned to leave, when Paxton’s comment stopped him.
“Oh, so you’re just going to blow off the possibility of potential danger to go enjoy yourself?”
Atty jumped on him for the remark. “Warren! He’s not one of the soldiers. He’s here of his own volition, and what he does in his spare time is his business, not ours.”
“It’s okay, Atty.” Renken waved away her defense. Turning to the second, he calmly addressed the man’s comment. “I know and understand your concern for the Battle Lord and Lady. I share that same concern. But unlike you and Mastin, because I’m not a soldier, I can roam about the compound without the kind of scrutiny you and the others would draw. The only way to find out if anything’s going on is to mill among the crowds. Listen to what they’re talking about. Stay in the shadows and hope they don’t notice me. Or if they do, hope they think I’m not important enough to silence them.” He turned to where Atty sat next to her husband. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. I just pray it’s before all hell breaks loose.” Without waiting for anyone to respond, the man left the tent. But the flap didn’t lower. Twoson entered, going straight to Thrasher instead of the battle lord and handing the physician a leather satchel. The doctor opened it, removing a sheet of paper first to scan the message.
“I’m glad to see you all here. I have news.” The portly man was breathing heavily. His eyes were bright as he glanced at Atty. “Four Trees has been decimated by disease.”
“What?” Almost everyone chorused together.
“It was a strain of the flu Dr. Jee had never seen before. It started out with a few patients, then spread like a wildfire. Within two weeks, nearly everyone had contracted the disease.” Twoson swallowed hard. “The number of casualties was…enormous. Three-quarters of that community are gone, Yulen.” He looked at Atty. “That smell we caught on our way to Oka City? That was the compound’s funeral pyres burning.”
Everyone inside the tent was shocked into silence, except for Paas, who murmured a Dearest Stephen, help us.
“Do they know what caused it?” Atty questioned.
“They’re not certain, but a few months ago a man came to stay for a few weeks. Jee remembers he displayed symptoms of an illness, and he examined him to see if the guy needed any medicine. He didn’t stay long, but by the time he left, there were other cases similar to his. Within a couple more weeks, it was a full-blown epidemic.”
“It sounds like the man was a carrier,” Paxton commented.
“Who was man? Where did he go? Where did he come from? How did he contract the disease in the first place?” Atty murmured, almost questioning herself.
Twoson’s gaze bore into Atty’s. “That last question, I can’t answer. But Jee gave me the guy’s name. It’s Berris Dullay.”
“Oh, sweet heavens, no!” Dread washed through her with icy vengeance, numbing her with visions of what Wallis could be going through. “No! Wallis!”
“We have to warn Wallis,” Mastin stated, getting to his feet.
Twoson held up a hand to stop him. “It’s too late, Cole. By the time you send anyone there to let them know, the man may have moved on. The deed is done. I know several people who had already gotten sick before we left. I’m glad now that I personally stayed away from the man, even though he was a fellow councilman. I never trusted him.” He shook his head sorrowfully. “We can only pray that whatever the man is carrying doesn’t wipe out the compound.”
“Then we have to warn other compounds!” Atty insisted.
“Wait.” Mastin held up a hand. “Why didn’t we see any signs of this disease in North Crestin?”
Twoson shrugged his massive shoulders. “Maybe Dullay hasn’t been there yet. Maybe he bypassed it for some reason, or plans to go later. Either way, Four Trees has already sent messengers through the hub to let other Mutah compounds know about the man. If he’s found, he will be made to answer for this crime.”
“What about Normal compounds? What about Foster City and Alta Novis, not to mention New Bearinger and others?” Batuset demanded.
“As far as we know, the man is only approaching Mutah compounds.” Twoson let out a ragged sigh. “Call me paranoid, but I think he’s deliberately targeting Mutah.”
“But the man himself is Mutah!” Atty exclaimed. “Why would he be targeting his own kind? What would coerce him to do such a heinous deed?”
She felt a hand squeeze her arm. “Not what, Atty. Who.” Yulen coughed weakly as Thrasher knelt next to him.
“May I throw something else in the pot for us to consider?” Paas spoke out. “That man, Dullay, he was very adamant about not coming here. Do you think he may…” She stopped and shook her head. “Forget it. It’s too far-fetched to consider.”
“Go ahead, Paas,” Atty urged. “Nothing can be too far-fetched.”
“Well, I was wondering if he didn’t want to attend because he might have known something about this place. Or about the summit.”
“Yulen, drink this.” Thrasher’s no-nonsense tone broke the momentary pall that had descended over the group. The physician held a bowl to the man’s mouth, almost pouring the contents into the battle lord.
“Fergus, what was that?” Atty asked.
“A strong antibiotic. As strong as I dared make it. I also mixed in a narcotic to put you under, Yulen.” The man glanced around the tent. “I need you all to leave. I need to intubate him. I have to get out as much of that fluid that’s built up in his lungs as I can.” He lifted his eyes to Atty. “It’s not pretty, Atty. Although I wouldn’t have second thoughts about you staying here with him while I do this, in your condition I don’t want to take any chances of it splashing on you, or making you ill. You’ll have to leave.”
“Atty.” Paxton stood and tapped her shoulder with his fingertips.
Atty shook her head. “I need to stay.”
“No, beloved,” Yulen gasped. “Listen to Fergus. Let him do his job. Don’t stay and make me worry about you, on top of everything else.”
Paas moved toward the door flap. “I think Renken had the right idea. I’m going to the faire. See what I can dig up. Why don’t you come with me, Atty?”
“How long is this going to take?” Atty asked the doctor.
Thrasher shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s been a while since I’ve done this sort of procedure. And I don’t know how much fluid I’ll need to drain. All I can tell you is that it’s a delicate operation. I can’t rush it. Don’t worry. He’ll feel much better when I’m done, and he’ll be able to recover faster with that crap out of his system. Go take in the faire. I’ll send someone to let you know when I’m done, and you can come back inside.”
She glanced at Yulen, who gave her a trembling smile. By the glazed look in his eyes, she could tell the medication Thrasher had given him was already taking affect.
“Go, Atty. Check out the place.” He patted her arm. “I love you.”
“No more than I love you,” she whispered, fighting back tears.
She allowed Paxton to help her to her feet, and followed her second outside where Paas was waiting with Twoson and Mastin. Batuset quickly joined them.
“I’m going to check on my men,” the battle lord told her. “I
need to let Dardin know what we’ve learned.” He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before hurrying away.
Atty turned to her friend. “You go ahead, Paas. Enjoy the faire,” she told the woman. “I’d like to hang around here a while longer. Make sure everything goes okay.”
Mastin turned to Paas. “I need to check on the men, too. Take care of yourself while you’re roaming about. But if you’re not back in two hours, I’m coming to look for you.”
“I think I’ll take in the grounds, too,” added Twoson. “I’m curious to know if there are any other Mutah here.”
“Be careful, Twoson,” Atty bade him. The Mutah councilman gave her a little wave, turned, and walked away. Paas left in the opposite direction, leaving Atty alone with Paxton.
“Atty, I really think it would be better if we didn’t stay here. He’s well-guarded, and I trust Dr. Gus knows what he’s doing. Yulen will be fine.” He gently patted her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s check out the vendors. If I know you, you’re probably famished.”
She gave him a wan smile. “Yeah. You’re right. I’m starving. And I need to pee.” They both chuckled at the not-surprising revelation. “Let’s first find the public privies, and then see what the vendors are cooking up. I thought I smelled roasting warthog on our way in, and my mouth has been watering for a taste.”
She accepted Paxton’s proffered arm and allowed him to lead her away from their campsite, to where the faire was in full swing, but not without one more wistful glance back at the blue and silver tent where her husband lay nearly comatose.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Forbidden
Paas slowly strolled between the stalls, checking out what each vendor had to offer. She paused near a fruit cart to stare at the small, globular treats for sale, and her hand went to the few gold coins she carried in her pocket. Like her own tribe, the people of Alta Novis often traded goods and services for things they needed. But on those rare occasions when people came to the compound to sell their wares on market days, it was easier to exchange for gold coin. Every battle lord created their own currency from nuggets or jewelry, melted down and reformed into thumbnail-sized squares or circles, which were then embossed with the battle lord’s likeness or symbol to designate where the money originated. D’Jacques paid his soldiers in gold coin, and Mastin had given her a handful to use wherever she saw fit.