“Are we being challenged?” Yulen countered.
The fake Yulen frowned. Either he wasn’t accustomed to not having his questions answered, or he hated being stonewalled. Lucien felt the tension rise a notch higher. Something had to give, and it would be sooner rather than later. The hope that this impasse could be resolved without violence was becoming less and less feasible.
“You are trespassing on my land, Battle Lord,” the imposter stated. “You did not get permission to camp here. Therefore you owe me a tax for that infringement.”
“What kind of tax?”
The man eyed the weapons Yulen’s men were brandishing. “I want all your swords and spears.”
Yulen made a rude sound. “And leave us defenseless?”
“That is what you owe me for your offense.”
“No deal,” Yulen said flatly.
The faux Yulen gave him another toothless smile. “Last chance, Battle Lord. Pay for your transgression, or be slaughtered.”
“Why should I pay attention to a liar and fake?” Before the stranger could respond, Yulen pulled his helmet off his head and tossed it to the ground. The man gaped, wide-eyed with shock, and Yulen took that moment to raise his sword above his head. “Yield! Drop your weapons and yield to the real Yulen D’Jacques, Battle Lord of Alta Novis!”
The bushes seemed to erupt all around them. Lucien stared in surprise as his father’s soldiers emerged from amid the trees on both sides of the road and surrounded the men on horseback. Although they were on foot, and at a height disadvantage, there was no mistaking that D’Jacques’ men were the more powerful force.
The men on horseback gave their leader nervous looks. The fake battle lord refused to face them. Seconds went by as everyone waited to see what action the man would take next. Adjusting his grip on his sword, Lucien kept his eyes on the imposter. This was not a man who would give up so easily.
The pretender suddenly screamed and charged directly at Lucien. Yulen rammed himself against his son, and the impact bounced the two of them apart just as the horse barreled its way between them. Lucien heard a swish of the man’s sword as it narrowly missed his unprotected head. The blade struck the mesh collar and was deflected away.
The fake’s army took that as a signal to attack, but it was clear from the outset that this would be a short battle. Their numbers may have been even, but the imposters were greatly outmatched.
Lucien rolled aside, glancing up to see his father throw up his sword to block the other man’s downward swing. The stallion reared up, off-balancing the fake battle lord, and he started to slide off his saddle.
The sound of hoofbeats behind him alerted Lucien to another approaching horse. He lifted his sword to protect himself as he scrambled to his feet, but a thick piece of wood came down, knocking it from his hand. Lucien stared up at the soldier getting ready to swing his makeshift club again, prepared himself, and at the last second rolled under the horse to avoid the strike.
The soldier jerked on the reins, turning the animal around to come after him again. Lucien glanced at his sword lying on the ground feet away, but knew he couldn’t reach it before the man got to him.
Getting into a crouching position, he watched as the man raised his club again. As the heavy limb came down, Lucien jerked away, taking the brunt of the blow on his shoulder. At the same time, he grabbed the piece of wood with both hands and tore it from the man’s grasp. The man yelled in surprise and tried to bring his horse around again to try and run Lucien over, but the animal protested the harsh pull on its mouth, shaking its head as it fought back.
Hoisting the tree limb over his shoulder like a bat, Lucien swung it as hard as he could. The club struck the horse across its flank, and the terrified animal bolted. Both horse and rider took off down the road, back in the direction where it ran directly into D’Jacques troops, who quickly brought it to a halt.
Running over to retrieve his sword, Lucien scanned the scene. The battle had lasted less than a handful of minutes. The fake battle lord had overestimated his men’s fighting abilities, or underestimated Yulen’s men’s expertise.
Several yards away, his father had the imposter pinned to the ground, his sword at the man’s throat. Mastin strode up to take the man into custody, quickly binding the guy’s arms behind his back. All around him, Lucien noticed the same thing occurring as the rest of the opposing soldiers were taken prisoner. He did a quick mental tabulation. Judging by the number of bodies scattered across the road, and number of men being bound, it appeared that quite a few of the impersonator’s army had beat a hasty retreat.
“You all right?” A hand clapped him on the back, and Renken’s worried face stared at him.
“Yeah. I’m good. How many men did we lose?”
“Doesn’t look like we had a single casualty. We’ll find out for certain once things settle down.” The big man chuckled. “Boy, howdy. I gotta tell you, Luc, you can certainly kick ass when you need to, and you don’t even have to be well-armed! Next time maybe we should just give you some rocks and a slingshot, and see how much damage you can do with that.”
Lucien snickered as he glanced around them. “Have you seen Johna?”
“Not since before the ruckus started. Last time I saw her, she was heading for the big tent.”
That meant she’d headed for his parents’ tent. Feeling somewhat relieved, he went over to join his father. Yulen gave him a once-over to make sure his son was okay. Lucien threw him a quick thumbs-up.
Two guards hauled the imposter to his feet and held him steady as Yulen advanced on the man. Lucien saw the guy flinch slightly, but tried to maintain a defiant stance.
“Who are you really?” Yulen demanded in that low voice that still managed to send chills up Lucien’s spine. The man pressed his lips together in answer. Yulen grinned. “Go ahead. Keep your secret to yourself. I’ll get what I want to know out of you eventually.”
“Why don’t you go ahead and kill me?” the man blurted out.
Yulen’s smile widened. “Why should I deprive my men of having a little fun?” he cryptically responded. It was all a bluff. Lucien knew his father no longer advocated torture, but this idiot wouldn’t know that.
The imposter’s face paled considerably, but he didn’t reply. Yulen signaled for order. “Let’s get this road cleared off. Gather up their horses. We’ll rope the prisoners to them when we’re ready to leave.”
“What do we do with them in the meantime?” Captain Destino asked.