by Linda Mooney
“How was your shift?”
“Uneventful.”
The new guard looked at Atty, pointing at her. “Where did she get those bloody scratches on her face and shoulders?”
“She’s been fighting the ropes, and banged herself against the post a few times.”
“So she’s still alive and kicking, eh? Guess that knocks me out of the pool.”
The two men laughed and slapped each other on the back before the old guard hurried away. Atty watched the new guard amble back toward the bonfire until he was halfway between it and the bell tower. Not once did he check on her or the ropes, or else he would have discovered the knife Danna had pressed into Atty’s hands.
She continued to pull against her bonds, using the actions to mask her cutting the ropes. It was slow work and very difficult. With her preferred hand out of commission, she had only the one to saw at the thick strands. Thankfully, the cold and thinned blood flow to the damaged wrist masked most of the pain. It also meant her fingers were numb, and breathing was like inhaling ice shards. She knew she had probably opened up some of the nearly-healed wounds in her back, but there was no feeling left anywhere on her body. She was slowly freezing to death. The next time she fell asleep could be her last, yet she continued to work the blade against the iced ropes. Fleetingly, she worried what would happen once she managed to cut herself free. Would she be able to crawl to safety without the guard, or someone, noticing?
She looked around. Where could she go? The sun was almost above the compound walls. People would be getting up to go about their daily work.
The guard glanced back at her and chuckled at her pathetic attempts. Atty knew he was using the bonfire to keep warm. More than that, he had placed himself between her and the fire on purpose, to keep the heat from reaching her.
Atty struggled again. The knife cut through the remaining strands, freeing her wrists. She pressed her lips together to keep from crying out as she pulled her arms in front of her body and tried to reestablish movement in them. Placing her arms back behind her, she started sawing on the ropes binding her waist and hips. Once she cut through those, she would be able to wriggle her legs and upper chest out of the rest.
She kept her eyes on the guard, who never gave her a second glance. There was a tiny snap as the last of the rope gave way, but the sound was swallowed up by the crackling bonfire. Every few minutes, soldiers would come around the side of the lodge to throw something else on the pile, causing it to roar in appreciation and send flames leaping into the air. Any movement she made was masked by the noise.
Atty glanced around. She couldn’t run for it. Her body was too abused. She looked at the knife in her hand. Although she was equally skilled with both hands, it would be a miracle if she had enough energy to defend herself even against one person.
“Hey. What are you doing?”
She gasped. The guard had turned to see her loose. She started to lift the knife when a slender dagger appeared from nowhere. It punctured the guard’s throat, sending him stumbling sideways. He tried to remove the blade when a second dagger plowed into his chest. A third follow a heartbeat later, splitting the nose in half as the blade entered the brain. The guard dropped to the ground, behind the bonfire. When the soldiers returned to dump more stuff on the bonfire, they wouldn’t see the body unless they went around the pile.
She had mere seconds to seek safety.
She managed to slip out of the rest of the ropes, but her legs were useless. She had no energy left in her. She began to fall to the ground when a pair of hands circled her waist. She felt herself being thrown across a broad shoulder, then a deer skin was tossed on top of her. Her savior ran directly between the first row of houses and markets at the edge of the courtyard. They had barely cut around a corner when she thought she heard a shout coming from behind them.
“This way!” a voice whispered. The person carrying her dodged between more buildings. Suddenly, Atty sensed them entering a home. The door closed, and she felt herself being carefully lowered to a mat. The deer skin was peeled away, and she stared blearily up into Tory’s reddened eyes.
“Oh, dearest stars in the heavens!” The woman pulled Atty into her embrace. Atty tried to bring her arms up to return the hug, but she no longer had control of her extremities. All she could do was cry in relief.
“Thank you. Thank you.” Her voice gave out. A mug of warm milk was thrust into her nerveless fingers, and a pair of hands cupped around them to help her hold it and bring it to her blue lips. Atty screamed as feeling returned to the shattered wrist.
Fortune grabbed her arm to examine the dangling hand. “They broke both bones. Quick! Bring me something to set it!”
Atty heard movement in the kitchen. Tory hurried over and handed her husband two wooden spoons.
“This is going to hurt like hell, Attycake,” the hunter murmured.
She nodded and gritted her teeth as he snapped the handle off the longer spoon to make its length even with the other utensil. Expertly, Fortune reset the bones in the damaged wrist, apologizing for hurting her more as she whimpered in pain. The bottom of the bowls were placed directly over the injury, and everything was wrapped in a thin dishtowel. Finally, Tory handed over a leather wristlet. Fortune held it up for Atty to see.
“Yulen gave me this to keep my wrist straight when I’m practicing with the sword. With all this wrapping on your arm, it should fit you like a cast.”
He slipped it over her hand and makeshift brace. Once he tied the laces, the leather support fit snugly. “There. That should keep it stable while it heals.”
“Back to where we were. Drink. You need to get warm liquids in you,” a familiar voice insisted.
Atty stared into Danna’s face as the mug was brought back up to her mouth. She drank, forcing herself to take in the milk. Danna kept the mug lifted until it was empty, then wiped a spare drop from Atty’s lower lip with her thumb.
“Thank you,” Atty managed.
Danna gave her a genuinely warm smile. “Like I said, we’re even.”
“We’ve got to find another place to hide her, and quickly,” Fortune stated. He was back up and looking out the window, watching out for any possible sign of D’Jacques’ men.
“Where?” Tory asked in a low voice. “You know they’re going to start searching every house now.” She turned to Danna. “They’re going to be looking for you, too. With Atty missing, the guard who let you attack her is going to let them know he let you approach her. It won’t take them long to figure out you gave Atty a knife to cut her way loose.”
“We can get Danna outside the compound. That’s not a problem.” Fortune motioned to Atty. “She can’t move on her own. She has to be carried. And you know everyone is going to be scrutinized if they see someone being helped to walk.”
“Why can’t I take Atty with me?” Danna suggested. “It’s too dangerous for her to stay here. You know they’ll find her eventually. I mean, she’s the only person with blue hair.”
“We can’t take the risk of you trying to sneak her past the gates,” Fortune stated.
Tory sat back on her heels and studied Atty, who had curled into a ball on the pallet and was watching them. Danna disappeared into the back room, returning quickly with a couple of blankets, which she tucked around Atty.
“How are we going to keep her hidden?” Fortune asked.
“C-color my hair,” Atty managed to say. Her body was trembling, shaking almost violently as her muscles reacted to the warmth.
“That’s right. We can color her hair. You were right. They’re going to be looking for a woman with blue hair. I’ll bet my life they wouldn’t recognize Atty any other way.” Tory got to her feet and reached for her jacket hanging on a hook by the door.
“Where are you going?” her husband demanded.
“To the tanner’s. I’ll be right back.” She gave him a quick kiss, then slipped out the door.
Fortune looked down at Atty. “Do you know what she’s talking about
?”
“Tannic acid. Mohmee used to color my hair when we went mushroom picking outside the compound.” It was becoming more and more difficult to think straight. She was losing consciousness, but she knew Fortune and Tory would do everything in their power to keep her safe.
Unable to fight it any longer, Atty slipped into a deep sleep, unaware that her son was in the back room and about to awaken.
Chapter Thirty-One
Merger
They were nearly within hailing distance of the first outpost when Yulen spied a lone figure standing in the middle of the road with a torch in his hands. The Battle Lord gave the signal to hold and dismounted to approach the stranger on foot. He drew his sword, just in case, but a few more feet, and he recognized the man.
“Zane!”
The two friends clasped arms, then hugged.
“Quick. Follow me,” the Battle Lord of Foster City whispered. Yulen gave his men the hand signal to dismount. They followed Batuset into the woods, leading their horses behind them. They moved fast and with haste, finally reaching a small clearing where they gathered.
“Do you know your half-brother has taken Alta Novis?” Batuset asked.
“Yes.” Yulen gestured to the young Mutah standing nearby. “That’s Singling. He risked his life to come find us and bring us back before we fell into D’Jacques’ trap.”
“Trap?” Batuset frowned. “What trap?”
“I don’t have proof, but I have enough reason to believe he had his army follow a couple of days behind him when he traveled to Alta Novis. He left them with orders to lay siege to New Bearinger, knowing I would leave Alta Novis to lend aid.” Yulen shook his head. “How did you find out he claimed my compound?”
“We were returning from Foster City, and taking great care not to alert the Bloods.”
Yulen paled. “Then Bloods are threatening your compound.”
“And yours, too, Yulen. We were on our way back when we had to divert to the west to avoid a group of them. That’s when we ran across some of your Mutah evacuees. They told us what D’Jacques had done.”
“Is that where we’re headed? To join up with the others?”
Batuset nodded. “The Mutah are arming themselves to back you. Mastin and Tabb are training them.”
“Then let’s go. The longer we delay¯”
“Yul. Stop. Listen to me first.” Batuset’s tone was firm and direct. Yulen paused. Taking a deep breath, the man continued. “D’Jacques has Atty.”
“I know that, too.”
“He’s tied her naked to the inner courtyard bell. I don’t know how long she can last against the elements. Especially with this late winter snow hitting us.”
Yulen felt his face turn to stone. He refused to show any emotion other than determination. “She’s alive. I can feel it. We’ve got to save her and find my son. If I lose Alta Novis, I can survive with that loss. But I can’t survive without her and the boy.”
Batuset slapped him on the back. “We must hurry. The longer we take, the greater the chance the Bloods will get to Alta Novis first.”
“What do you think D’Jacques’ chances are of saving the compound if it’s attacked?”
Batuset grinned at Yulen and winked. “Piss poor.”
“What do you mean?”
“Come on. I’ll tell you when we reached the encampment.”
They battled through the thick, dry brush, finally reaching a small trail where they could move quickly in single file. From what Yulen could tell, they were heading north by west, although this part of the forest was new to him. Every hundred yards, he spotted a tree with symbols carved into the trunk. One of them he recognized.
“This is a Mutah trail.”
“Yep.”
They pushed on without stopping to rest. It was around midday when Batuset held up a fist to signal a halt. To their far right, a whippoorwill sounded. The Battle Lord returned the call twice. Moments later, they were surrounded by Mutah, friends, and other evacuees from the compound. Yulen and Paxton shook arms, a huge grin riding on the Second’s face.
“With you back, I know we’ll succeed,” Paxton stated.
“We’ll make D’Jacques pay for crimes, especially for what he’s doing to Atty.” Renken stepped up to also shake arms. “Just tell us what to do.”
“First, we need to reconnoiter. I need to know where the Bloods are, and where they’re heading.”
Batuset waved for them to continue on to where the camp was set up. More Mutah and displaced villagers greeted their Battle Lord with enthusiasm. Inevitably, Yulen and his men were shown where they could settle, and the men were led to the cooking area where they were served a hot meal. Yulen accepted the bowl of stew thrust into his hands, then followed Batuset into the man’s tent. All Seconds, including Renken, were ushered in. They sat in a semi-circle around the two Battle Lords, who studied a large map lying on the rug in the center of the tent.
Using rocks as markers, Batuset placed them on the map. “This is where we last observed the Bloods. Your Mutah hunters are keeping a close eye on them, and reporting back to me.”
Yulen eyed the map closely. “They’re advancing from the east?”
“Yeah. Ain’t it a kick in the ass?”
“It would explain why we haven’t encountered that many to the west,” Gaines remarked.
“I would hazard to say they may all have originated from somewhere in the east,” Batuset continued. “Once they came across a compound, they discovered the road linking us, and simply followed it.”
“And we’re sitting like jewels on a necklace.” Yulen frowned. “How many Bloods are we facing?”
“Hard guess is around three to five hundred. A small force, by Blood standards.”
They were interrupted by a sentry, who bowed before them. “Forgive me, my lords. There’s a woman¯”
“No woman, young man! A mother! Yulen!” Madigan entered the tent, tears already on her face. MaGrath was right behind her. They converged on Yulen, who embraced his mother tightly.
“Oh, thank the stars,” he whispered, holding her face in his hands. Kissing her on the forehead, he released her to embrace the physician. “Thank the heavens you’re all right.” Yulen paused, suddenly remembering. “Where’s Mattox?”
“We had to leave him behind,” Madigan began.
“You what?”
“Stop, Yulen,” MaGrath ordered sternly. “Listen. D’Jacques put a bounty on our heads. He was hoping to use us as collateral, to ensure his dominance over you. We couldn’t risk staying at the compound.”
“Several Mutah helped us out of the compound and led us here,” Madigan finished.
“What about Mattox? Who has Mattox?”
“We gave him to Fortune and Tory,” his mother answered.
“We felt it was too great a risk to try and bring him with us,” Liam added.
Yulen gave her a confused look. “But I thought…we were told all Mutah were ordered to leave the compound, or face execution.”
“That’s true,” MaGrath told him. “But Fortune refused to leave. He said you’d need someone on the inside. And you have to admit, he and Tory look pretty normal at first glance.”
“Yeah. Guess he wouldn’t have any difficulty hiding that tail of his.”
He glanced down at his untouched bowl of stew and debated whether or not to eat it, but his stomach was tied up in knots at the thought of his wife and child still at the mercy of Rafe D’Jacques.
A shout went up outside the tent. Immediately, everyone inside was on their feet, weapons drawn, when Case Abalam stumbled in.
“Sir! We made it! Mom and I made it! And we have your son!”
Sounds of disbelief and surprise surrounded him as Yulen hurried out of the tent. In the distance, he could see Danna being escorted by one of the Mutah women. Danna carried a bundle tightly against her chest.
The crowd parted to make way for the two to meet. Yulen halted and stared at the woman in shock as she slowly lifted the ba
by and handed him over to his father. Yulen gazed down at his sleeping son as a feeling of relief brought tears to his eyes.
“Danna, I—”
“A son for a son,” she softly interrupted.
“Fortune and Tory?”
“They freed Atty and managed to get her to safety, but they’re still inside the compound. You must hurry.”
He held his son to his chest and kissed the crop of curly brown hair. “Thank you.”
As Danna and her son were led away, Yulen turned to seek out his mother. Madigan stepped forward and held out her arms. “You need to concentrate on your next task,” his mother smiled, taking possession of Mattox. “We’ll be safe here.”
She was right. All that remained was saving Atty and getting his compound back. Even if he failed to retake Alta Novis, Yulen knew what mattered most was his wife and child.
A hand on his shoulder drew him back to the present. “Come. Hurry,” Renken said. “Time is now our enemy.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Ability
“They’re coming,” Fortune whispered. He left the window and disappeared into the rear of the apartment.
Tory helped Atty to sit up, propping her on the stool against the fireplace. Atty nodded, and Tory placed the bowl of potatoes in her lap. She barely had time to rush into the kitchen when the pounding sounded at the door.
“Open up! By order of the Battle Lord!”
“I’m coming!” With soapy hands, Tori hurried over to the door and opened it seconds before a soldier used a small battering ram to force it open. She stared at the group of men in surprise. “What’s the matter?”
She was shove to one side as they entered the house. One man paused in front of her. “The Mutah bitch prisoner has escaped. Have you seen her?”
Wide-eyed, Tory shook her head. The soldier glanced at her soapy hands, then over at Atty, who paused in peeling a potato to watch.
The other three soldiers emerged from the bedroom area. “No sign of anyone else,” one of them reported. “Except for these.” He held up a pair of knitted baby booties. “They were on the bed.”