She smiled. “Well, could you blame me? Especially when we thought I’d never be able to get pregnant again?”
“Atty, if you weren’t Mutah, I fully believe that would have been the case. But somehow your body was able to heal itself. We’ve seen those same miraculous healing powers exert themselves over and over again when it comes to you and Fortune, the others.”
She ran a hand over her scarred abdomen. “And don’t forget when Mistelle broke her ankle when she was learning to walk,” Atty reminded him. “Because of the way her feet are formed, it’s a miracle she was ever able to remain upright, much less run and skip the way other children do.”
He nudged the side of her head, his way of letting her know he wanted to kiss her mouth. Atty lifted her face, giving him her lips. She rolled onto her side as the kiss deepened, and his hand cupped her face. When he finally pulled away, she rested her cheek on his shoulder.
“Do you really believe Luc has inherited any Mutah abilities?” he murmured.
“I do, but maybe it’s wishful thinking. Maybe I want to think he does. Otherwise, what skills does he have?”
“I’ve seen him out on the practice field,” Yulen admitted. “At his best, he’s mediocre with the sword.”
“And he knows it,” she mentioned. “His inability to wield a sword or bow bothers him. He’s disheartened by his inability. But what bothers him more is the fact that he can’t keep up with his brother and sister.” She rubbed her cheek along his wet skin. “I worry what will happen to him. I worry that he won’t be able to defend himself. I worry that he won’t be able to…” She struggled with the final word. Thankfully, he voiced it for her.
“Survive?”
Atty nodded and buried her face against his neck. His fingertips caressed her face.
“I pray that if that happens, you and I won’t be alive to witness it,” he whispered.
“I have no doubts that Mattox and Mistelle will be able to preserve Alta Novis,” she continued. “They’re strong and capable. And smart.”
Yulen chuckled again. “As long as Matt is able to hold his temper.”
That remark made her snort. “Mistelle has a temper to match, but she’s able to hold it in check better than him.”
“And Luc is the more taciturn of the three.”
“He’s the mediator. The diplomat. He manages to keep the two of them on an even keel.”
“Ah, yes,” Yulen agreed. “Which makes me wonder how well the compound will be running when we return, since he won’t be here to act as go-between.”
Atty laughed at the mental image that came to mind. Their oldest two were headstrong, true. And many times the youngest had placed himself between them to offer up a compromise whenever she and Yulen were not present to do so themselves.
It’s almost as if his ability isn’t physical, but mental.
She blinked and sat up, turning to face her husband. Yulen lifted an eyebrow in silent question.
“What if Lucien’s abilities aren’t physical? What if it lies elsewhere, and not with a weapon?”
“That’s extremely possible,” he conceded. “Somehow, I just can’t completely forego the fact that there has to be some part of you inside him that’s giving him an edge he’s yet to find and develop.”
“And by taking him with us, he might discover that edge?”
“It’s your hope as much as it is mine. That, and he needs to experience other compounds and cultures besides Foster City and New Bearinger.”
It was already an old argument. One they’d agreed to use if ever someone tried to dissuade them from taking along their least suitable offspring. But there was another reason that continued to nag her. One she couldn’t quite put her finger on. At least, not yet. Yulen saw her introspection.
“There’s something else, isn’t there?”
“Yeah, but right now I can’t form it into thought or words.”
“Don’t worry. It’ll come to you. Now come here and soap me down before we both get too pruney to enjoy it.”
Chapter Six
Goodbyes
Lucien hurried to the stables to attach his satchel to his saddle before heading for the dining hall. Already those soldiers who were not going to accompany the battle lord and lady on their trip were getting the others’ horses ready. Along the way he spotted the wagons in the main courtyard that were being loaded for the long trip—one bearing rations and the other their heavy armor and additional battle gear.
The dining hall was crowded when he entered through the side door. He went straight to the table where his parents were seated, and took a spot at the end of the bench. A servant quickly brought him a platter of food. Although he was too wound up to eat, he went ahead and made himself devour as much as he could, knowing it could be hours before he’d have the chance to eat again.
As he ate, Fortune Kalich came over to speak to his parents. The man sat down heavily at the end of the bench and propped his cane against the side of the table. “Damn, I wish I could go with you.”
“So do we, old friend,” Yulen told him.
Atty reached across the table to clasp the man’s wrist. “We’re counting on you. Mattox and Mistelle will need your guidance, in the event something should happen while we’re away.”
“I’m still as good as I ever was with my knives. If it weren’t for this leg and hip…” The Mutah hunter gave a feeble laugh.
“We’ll miss having you along for the trip,” Yulen continued. “It won’t be the same without you.”
“I’ll be honest. Tory’s relieved I’m not accompanying you,” Fortune admitted. “And I have to admit, as much as I want to go, I’m afraid I might become more of a hindrance, and might even endanger you in the long run.”
Atty gave his wrist another squeeze, and nothing more was said as they continued to eat.
A few yards away, Iain and Liam MaGrath stood near the fireplace, away from the others. The elderly physician was explaining something to his son, who nodded his head every so often. With Dr. Fergus out of commission, and Dr. MaGrath physically unable to withstand the journey, the responsibility had fallen on Iain’s shoulders to be their physician during this trip. Lucien realized that, like him, this would also be Iain’s first lengthy foray away from the fortress.
As the two men continued to talk, Madigan emerged from the inner rooms. The woman went over to her younger son and enfolded him in a warm embrace. At the same time, a hand rested on his shoulder.
“Are you prepared for this, little brother?” Mattox perched a boot next to him on the bench.
Lucien glanced up to see the man’s stern expression, but the soft pink color of the man’s eyes was a dead giveaway. As he’d suspected, the sternness was a front to cover his brother’s real emotions. In this case, his concern and worry.
“Yeah, as much as I can be.”
“Mind if I give you a little advice?”