Paas turned around and walked over to where the ex-mercenary had his arm around the other stalker’s throat. It quickly became obvious that Renken was correct in his assumption.
Paas held the light up against the attacker’s face and scanned his features. “I don’t see any obvious mark, but that doesn’t mean anything. Are you also Mutah?”
The person struggled in another futile attempt to break Renken’s iron grip, but failed.
“Are they Damaged?” Mastin wondered aloud. “Dr. MaGrath, is there way to tell if they’re Damaged?”
Iain stepped forward from where he’d been standing behind Mastin. “By their appearance? No. But by their actions, definitely.”
Shoving his arm harder against his prisoner’s neck, Lucien pressed his face closer and gritted his teeth. “Who are you?”
Surprisingly, the Mutah woman squinted her eyes at him. “Someone you should not be antagonizing.”
“What should we do with them?” Mastin asked the battle lord.
Instead of replying, Yulen strode over to where Lucien held the woman and grabbed her by the front of her coat, lifting her off her feet to glare up at her. “Do you want to live?” he growled.
The young woman glanced from him, over to Lucien, and back at the man who was holding her aloft. “Yes,” she finally admitted in a small voice.
Yulen gave her a little shake. A quick check of the person Renken still held in a headlock showed that attacker was also quaking in his boots. Lucien bowed his head to hide his smile.
“How many of you are there?” the battle lord demanded.
Lucien noted that his father didn’t ask if they were alone or if there was anyone else with them. He’d gotten straight to point.
“F-fourteen. Altogether.”
“All Mutah?”
Again, the woman looked at Lucien. “I’m not full-blooded. I’m half Mutah. Like he is.”
Stunned silence came over everyone, and Lucien felt everyone’s eyes on him.
“What makes you believe he’s half Mutah?” Yulen questioned.
“I see it in him,” the woman replied.
“What do you mean?” Lucien leaned in close to her. “How do you see it? I bear no mark.”
Those double pupils met his, and he got his answer. Jerking back slightly, he continued to stare at her. “Your eyes. Your vision. You see differently than anyone else.”
He silently rebuked himself. His own brother, Mattox, had Mutah eyes that could see infinitely better than a Normal’s and most Mutah’s.
Yulen lowered the woman to her feet but he didn’t release his grip on her jacket. “What can you see that Normals cannot?” His question was less threatening, and she visibly relaxed.
“I see heat signatures. I see auras. I see in light spectrums that Normals can’t but some animals can.”
“Heat signatures?” Renken grunted. “That explains how you’re able to track us.”
“I can also tell that several of you were exposed to the madness disease,” the woman informed them. She pointed at Yulen, Renken, Paas, and Turenski, one of the captains. “You four have had it. The rest of you haven’t.”
Iain stepped forward. “You can tell who’s had the virus just by looking at them?”
Before the woman could respond, Yulen cut in. “Can you tell by looking at someone if they’ve caught the disease and came out…differently?”
“You’re talking about those whose minds are warped, aren’t you?”
“Yes. We call them Damaged.”
“No. I can’t tell if they’ve ended up with the madness,” she confessed. “I can only tell if they’ve contracted the disease.”
“Damn. Back to square one.” Iain’s soft expletive echoed what they all were thinking.
Yulen finally let go of the woman and retreated a step. Lucien checked to see if there was any chance the woman could reach her weapon, but Paas had already confiscated it, a crudely crafted spear made from a tree limb and a piece of metal filed to a point. The knife the other person held was nothing more than a sliver of sharp rock tied to a stick.
These two people weren’t seasoned warriors. Nor were they suitably armed. But that didn’t mean they weren’t potentially dangerous.
“You said there are fourteen of you. I take it they’re waiting for you to return? Or are you supposed to be on a hunting expedition, and you just happened to come across us?” Lucien inquired.
The woman and her partner exchanged glances. They were wary, and he couldn’t blame them. On a hunch, he snagged the spear from Paas’ grasp and held it out to the strange half-Mutah. She didn’t hide her surprise as she accepted it.
“My name is Lucien D’Jacques.” He pointed to himself, then pointed to Yulen. “This is my father, Yulen D’Jacques, the Battle Lord of—”
“Alta Novis,” the woman said with him, her voice soft with awe. Her eyes widened as she swept her gaze over the group. “If you truly are from there, where is she…”
“You’re looking for my mother, Atrilan?” This time he didn’t hide his smile. “She’s gone ahead to check out the compound called Whiterock.”
The woman’s face grew pale. “Call her back. Call her back right now!”
“Why?” Yulen took a menacing step toward her, but the woman didn’t retreat. “What’s going on at Whiterock?”
“It’s gone bad,” she whispered. “Word is it’s filled with the maddening disease.” She stared at Lucien. “You must bring her back.”
“And Mom hasn’t gotten the sickness,” he whispered, looking to his father.
“I’ll go get her,” Mastin said, stepping forward. Turenski, Renken, and Paas joined him.
“If we hurry, we might be able to catch up to them,” Renken said.
Lucien saw his father contemplating, and knew what the man was thinking. “Dad, you can’t go after her. Not when there could be an enemy in our midst.”
Torn by his decision, Yulen pointed at four of them. “You. Go. Turenski, you stay and inform the men of this new development. Take Dr. MaGrath with you.”
“What about you?” Mastin questioned.
“Luc and I will handle these two. Now, hurry!”
The group hustled away. With Paas gone, their one faint light source went with her, leaving everyone else in darkness. After a long moment, the woman with the strange eyes spoke again.
“My name is Johna. His name is Phillo. Take my hand, Battle Lord.”
Lucien felt the woman also take his as his father responded, “Why?”
“Our camp is not far from here. You need to meet with the head of our council.”
“Why should we? How do we know we can trust you?”
“We have several reasons why. But for now, the fact that you are who you say are is of utmost importance to us.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lucien asked.
“You are the reason we’re here. We’ve come from a great distance to find you. Hobron can explain further. Come. We’ll guide you safely there.”
There was a tug on his hand, but Lucien resisted. He got a sigh in response.
“Trust me, Lucien, Battle Prince of Alta Novis.”
For some odd and crazy reason, he did. “I do trust you.”
“Luc?” Yulen asked.
“I trust her, Dad.”
“Then so do I,” the battle lord said.
Somehow, Lucien got the impression Johna smiled when she heard that.
Chapter Fourteen
Truce