“But the Mutah who caught it, and survived, and didn’t become Damaged as a result, are we inoculated, too?” Fortune queried.
“It’s very possible. It’s harder to tell with your kind because there are so many variations to your recovery. With Normals, we either died or survived without any aftereffects. But with Mutah, those who survived either resumed their normal lives—”
“Or became deranged maniacs,” Mattox drawled from the doorway.
“And that’s what scares the crap out of me,” Mistelle added. “Remember that Mutah family that was seeking sanctuary soon afterwards? Remember what that mother did?” She gave a shudder as the memory swept through the group.
Lucien bowed his head. Four years ago he hadn’t been able to fight alongside his family and the others. He’d been an untried kid who’d been forced to stay inside the lodge, along with several others, as the rest of his family waged that terrible war. True, he’d been given the task of protecting his Aunt Keelor and his cousin, Surisam. But it had been a long, bloody, and disgusting nine days. And what followed afterwards had dire consequences for the entire compound for years.
“Let me get this straight.” Renken adjusted his stance and cleared his throat. “If we go help this compound, and we engage these Damaged, the chances are very low that we could become infected again. Is that what you’re saying?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Iain confirmed. “However, let me add that if by some slim chance you do catch the virus again, it won’t be as overwhelming as it was the first time.”
“Because all those little bitty leftover pieces of it in your body are protecting you,” Mattox intoned.
“Yes.”
Yulen nodded. “That information helps tremendously with my decision. Cole, Warren, survey our troops. Pick out two hundred of our best who have already survived this virus. We leave tomorrow morning.”
The two seconds hurried out of the lodge, leaving the others to await their individual orders. After the men were gone, the battle lord surveyed those remaining. Lucien also noticed his mother eyeing the small gathering, which consisted now of mostly family members, and people who were considered family.
“I am not ordering or requesting any of you to go with us,” Yulen said softly. “Talk about it among yourselves and with your families. Anyone willing to take this risk, be at the front of the main lodge, ready to go, right after breakfast. Please leave now so that Atty and I can discuss our own arrangements with our children before dinner.”
The others quietly filed out of the lodge. As he watched them go, Lucien already knew who would be there come morning. What he wasn’t expecting were his father’s next words.
“Mattox, you and Mistelle are staying here. Lucien, you’re coming with your mother and me to Green River.”
Chapter Four
Siblings
“Wait! No way! What do you mean I have to stay behind?” Mattox bristled and immediately began to protest.
Mistelle also added her voice of indignation. “Why do we have to remain here? Why can’t we go with you?”
Yulen and Atty exchanged glances, which made Lucien wonder if they had discussed this beforehand. But considering they hadn’t had the chance to be alone since they left the main hall, how could they? He mentally shrugged and racked it up to being another one of those inexplicable things which occurred between his parents because of their connection to each other.
Yulen gave his first-and second-born a patient but no-nonsense look. “With your mother and I gone, I need you two to lead my soldiers. I need you to protect this compound.”
“Why does Luc get to go with you?” Mistelle countered. It was hard for Lucien to read her tone. But one thing was certain. His siblings weren’t jealous of his leaving while they were being required to remain behind. If there was anything to be said about their growing up, it was that their parents always treated them equally. No one was given preferential treatment. Not Mattox, who was firstborn, not Mistelle, who was the only girl, nor him, the youngest—and, as he’d been told several times in the past, the child who should not have been.
“He needs to be tried,” Atty told them. “He hasn’t gone on any travels past Foster City or New Bearinger. He needs to be tested under fire. The same way both of you were tested.”
“But it’s only right that we accompany you,” Mattox persisted. His eyes reflected dark red with anger. Yulen answered with his own hard stare.
“You’re right. We do need you to come with us, and your mother and I would like nothing more than to have you by our sides. But you both know why you must stay behind.” He grasped his son’s arm. “You know there is no one else I trust to protect this compound. If something should happen to your mother or me, you and Mistelle will inherit the title of Battle Lord and Lady. You were born for this, and we know you will uphold the ideals we’ve taught you to keep Alta Novis strong.”
Mattox gave a single nod as he placed his hand over his father’s. Atty moved up to him, and he lowered his face for her kiss to his cheek.
“We’ll see you later at dinner. Lucien, might as well go pack your satchel now. If not, be sure you have it done before you go to bed tonight. Tomorrow will come too soon, and things will be hectic as we get ready in the morning. You might forget something crucial if you put it off ‘til then.”
“I will, Mom.” He accepted her kiss and watched as she turned to ascend the staircase.
Mattox left the lodge, probably to return to his bunk in the soldiers’ quarters, having moved there soon after the war with the Damaged. Mistelle retired to her room on the first floor of the lodge, and directly behind the kitchen area. As Yulen started up the stairs to join his wife, Lucien also ducked into the hallway to go to his room, but paused in front of Mistelle’s door that was across the hall from his. He knocked softly. A second later, his sister opened it and stepped aside to let him in.
“I had the feeling you’d want to come talk,” she remarked with a smirk.
He entered her room and slumped into the one chair sitting in the corner. “This is all so sudden, I don’t know what to think.”
“I’ll be honest, Luc. I don’t envy you in the least.”
She removed the soft leather armor, including the bandolier of knives she always wore over her clothing, and hung it on the hooks embedded in the wall. Once she divested herself, she sat on the edge of her bed to remove her specially-built boots. Dropping them onto the floor, she placed her hooved feet on the coverlet and scratched the arches.
“Matt is furious he’s not getting to go,” he commented.
Mistelle snorted. “He’ll get over it. He’s just mad he won’t get to mow down the enemy. You know how bloodthirsty he can be when he’s fighting. Hell, he even goes in for the kill during practice sessions.”
It was a remark he could easily relate to, having been on the receiving end of his brother’s sword during many of those mock skirmishes.
“How do you feel about having to go?”