“Go ahead.” For a second he wondered if his older brother was going to chide him about something, which was why he wasn’t expecting what came next.
“You know Mom and Dad are going to be watching you like feral cats protecting their young. Not so much because they love you, but because they don’t know how you’re going to react when the things start to go sideways. And it will, Luc, when you least expect it. When it does, the last thing you should do is look to them for orders. Don’t wait to be told what to do. Just go with your gut.”
To his surprise, Mattox pulled his dagger from his waist belt and held it out to him. “I want you to take this with you.” Lucien opened his mouth to protest, but Mattox was firm. “Take it, Luc. Keep it on you at all times. If something should happen to you, or Mom, or Dad, I want to be told they found you clutching it for protection. I want to be told it was stained with blood because you fought to your last breath. Hey…” Mattox flashed him a rare smile. “Maybe it’ll bring you luck. Maybe you’ll find your special ability because of it. Besides, I’m not giving it to you. I’m loaning it. And that means I expect you to hand it back to me the moment you come back through those gates.”
Lucien accepted the dagger with its carved bone handle. Atty had given it to her son on his fifth birthday, and the following month he’d slain his first enemy with it. Mattox never went anywhere without it. He even kept it under his pillow when he slept at night. For his brother to give it to him—no, loan it to him—said more than words ever could.
Mattox stepped back and quickly removed his weapons belt. Sliding the dagger’s sheath from it, he handed it to Lucien, who slipped the weapon back inside it.
Mattox gave his shoulder another squeeze. “You better come back and return my dagger, you hear me?” It was not a threat.
“Yeah, I hear you.”
Without saying another word, Mattox walked over to where Atty and Yulen were sitting and gave them both a hug. He then turned and strode quickly out of the room.
Lucien glanced around but didn’t see Mistelle. Either she’d already eaten and said her goodbyes, or she would show up as they prepared to leave. But if she’d already bade everyone goodbye, was last night’s little talk meant to be her way of sending me off? He seriously doubted it.
He forced himself to eat a little more before giving up. Getting to his feet, he grabbed several breakfast rolls, wrapped them in a napkin, and stuffed them down the front of his shirt. Rather than wait around, he decided to go back outside and wait for his parents to join the battalion.
“Lucien.”
He turned around to see his grandmother standing there, her face wet with tears. Holding out his arms, she walked into his embrace and gave him a hard hug.
“You be careful,” Madigan whispered. “You take care of yourself, and do me a favor? Watch out for Iain?”
“Consider it done,” he assured her with a smile.
She kissed his cheek, then walked away to talk to Yulen. Lucien turned to leave again, but found Liam MaGrath blocking his way. The gray-haired physician cocked his head, then closed the gap between them to envelope Lucien in a hug.
“You know something, Luc? You have, and always will be, a miracle child. You were never meant to be, yet here you are. You were never supposed to grow up, much less be strong and healthy, yet look at you now.” The elderly man took him in from head to toe, and gave his arm a squeeze. “Trust your instincts, Luc. Trust this.” He lightly thumped Lucien’s chest. “And this.” He pressed a forefinger to Lucien’s forehead. “You have Mutah in you. You have the best of what makes a Mutah, and it’s not an outward mark. It’s innate. Your mother is the strongest and most courageous woman I’ve ever met. Even stronger than your grandmother, and she’s a powerful force, as you very well know.” He flashed a grin, then he grew serious once more. “I expect you and Iain to return. Don’t let us down.”
“I won’t,” Lucien promised.
The man clapped him on the shoulder as Yulen called his name from the other end of the table.
“Time to saddle up, Luc.”
“Yes, sir!” he replied, and hustled out the main doors.
He wasn’t that much surprised to find Mistelle waiting for him by his horse. He could tell from her reddened eyes that she’d been crying, and he didn’t blame her. As far back as he could remember, she’d gone on every expedition with Mom and Dad, and this would be her first time to be left behind.
Wordlessly, she wrapped her arms around him to fiercely hug him. After which she planted a kiss on his cheek. “I’m going to miss having you around, dogging my steps,” she halfway teased.
“Don’t get too used to being on your own. We’ll be back before you know it.”
“I’m holding you to your word,” she almost growled. Giving him another quick embrace, she stepped away and swiped her eyes with the back of her hand as she sniffed. “Take care, little brother. Love you.”
“Love you, too, sis,” he softly admitted. It was rare that they exchanged such emotions.
She gave a nod, then turned to walk over to where Atty was checking the cinch on her mare. As they embraced, Lucien turned his back to them and checked his own saddle, but it was damn hard with blurred vision and a tickle in his nose.
Chapter Seven
Strategy
“Excuse me, Battle Prince?”
Lucien glanced up to find one of the soldiers standing a few feet away. Seeing that he had Lucien’s attention, the man threw a thumb over his shoulder. “The Battle Lord and Lady request your presence in their tent.”
“I’ll be right there. Thank you.” He glanced down at the small shelter he was erecting. During the day, he and Iain had ridden together, discussing anything and everything, and mostly nothing in particular. But one thing they’d decided was to bunk together, as Iain didn’t wish to sleep alone, and there was no way Lucien could stay in his parents’ tent.
Leaving the tent as it was, he hurried through the campground, toward the large blue and silver structure erected in the center. He caught sight of Echo ducking through the flap as he approached, and followed the warrior woman inside.
Despite the fact that night had fallen and the weather had turned cold, no fire had been lit inside. A few lanterns provided light for the dozen or so people gathered inside, their own body heat keeping away the worst of the chill. Lucien saw his father standing at one end of the tent, with Atty sitting beside him. She acknowledged Lucien’s arrival with a smile and gestured for him to sit beside her. He quickly made his way over to her and dropped onto a small rug.