Chapter Thirty
Inconsistencies
Captain Grimsy threw back the tent flap and entered without announcement. From the look on his face, it was evident the news wasn’t going to be to anyone’s liking. Lucien also got the impression the man had some very important details to reveal.
Yulen pointed to an empty spot on a mat, and the soldier dropped down upon it. “Water?”
“No, thanks. I’m good.”
“Tell us what you found.”
The captain raised a knee and propped an arm on it. He was sweat-stained and covered in grime, but Lucien saw no blood, meaning he hadn’t been in a skirmish. “Total devastation. Schutz Ridge is just a shell of tumbled rocks. The compound’s been torched.”
“Torched?”
“About a mile from here, the terrain goes barren. All rock and shrubs. No forest whatsoever to give cover. Schutz Ridge sits near the edge of huge bluff. There’s no way around the compound except to pass on the south side, and in full view. Once you get to the top of that last hill, you can see down into what’s left of it.”
“Go on,” Yulen urged.
“They built their walls with rocks. Those are still standing, mostly, although you can see sections where it was breached. The doors are completely gone. The buildings are made of mud bricks or rock, or a combination of both. They’re empty, and from the looks of it, long deserted. There’s not a single piece of wood in that place that doesn’t show signs of char,” Grimsy remarked.
“That doesn’t quite fit into Pechard’s description,” Lucien remarked.
“I was thinking the same,” Yulen said. “Any smoke or evidence of how long ago the place was burned?”
“Ages ago,” the captain answered. “Months. Maybe a year or more. But it hasn’t been recent. I’d swear by that.”
“How about bodies?” Johna spoke up.
The soldier shook his head. “No bodies. No skeletons or bones. Not even animal carcasses or remains like that. I tell you, D’Jacques, that compound was destroyed a long time ago.”
“If it was overrun, and the inhabitants killed months before, the wildlife would have had plenty of time to dispose of any remains,” Iain commented.
“That’s not all,” Grimsy added. “You can see where some of the hardier plants have begun to grow in between the rocks and cracks. It’s even evident from the road that the place is ghosted. Has been for quite some time.”
“Any reasonable possibility that the compound can be rebuilt and restored?” Yulen inquired.
“My honest opinion? It’ll take a massive effort. Best it’s left to the elements like Bearinger.”
The battle lord bowed his head in thought. Lucien could tell the captain wanted to ask about Atty’s health, but held himself in check. The man could see for himself how ill she was.
“Thank you, Grimsy. Fine job. Congratulate your men for me. You may go now. Get some food and rest.”
As soon as the captain left, Yulen threw a question out to his son. “Luc, you were there when Pechard told us about what he and his men went through to get to us, right?”
“Right. And I tell you, it doesn’t quite jive with what Grimsy says.”
“How does it differ?” Iain questioned.
“Pechard said when they managed to reach Schutz Ridge, it had already fallen,” the battle lord explained. “Now, if you were to pass by a compound that’s in the state of decay the way the captain described it, would you refer to it as ‘already fallen’?”
“Not only that,” Lucien added, “but the emissary claims that he and the two soldiers with him are Normals, and that they hadn’t suffered the virus. He said that they’d managed to escape because they were among the few left who were healthy enough to try and seek help.”
“What are you thinking?”
Lucien shrugged. “I don’t know, but it sounds off. I can’t explain why.”
Yulen pointed to Johna. “When Pechard was here earlier, did you happen to notice if the man had had the virus?”
“I didn’t check,” she admitted.
“Luc, take her over to where the emissary is being kept under watch and have her study him. Come right back and let me know what you find out.”
Johna raised a hand. “May I say something else? Actually, it’s a question.”
“What is it?” Yulen queried.
“Well, maybe it’s nothing, but you said the emissary claimed not to have had the virus, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Yet he came barging in here. He saw the battle lady. You know he must have overheard the gossip in the camp about her being ill. You haven’t tried to hide that fact from your men. If he hasn’t had the maddening disease, why would he deliberately choose to come inside this tent, in close contact with her, and risk becoming infected?”
“He even said he wouldn’t leave until he got an answer from you,” Lucien emphasized. “Does that sound like a person who’s trying to avoid getting sick?”
“Another inconsistency.” Yulen ran a hand over his head, threading his finger through his hair. It was a habit the man had when he was thinking. “You’re right, Johna. I haven’t hidden the fact from my men that Atty is deathly ill. Neither have I ordered them not to talk about it. Pechard’s actions were deliberate.” He scratched his stubble. “All right. After you and Johna check out the emissary and his men, have Cole and Warren report to me on your way back. Now go. Hurry.”
Lucien wanted to ask his father what he was planning, but chose not to. He knew Yulen would confide in him if his hunch bore fruit or not.
Before he and Johna exited the tent, Yulen spoke again. “Oh, and tell Turenski to have his men place the emissary and his men in holding. If Pechard protests, have the captain explain that it’s for their own protection.” The battle lord added a lopsided grin. “Let our guests know that, because of Atty’s illness, and because they confessed they haven’t had the virus, that Dr. MaGrath wants to place them under twenty-four hour watch until it’s determined whether or not they’ve become infected.”
“And if Pechard continues to protest?”
“Have him bound…for his own protection. He’s not to leave his tent until we get some solid answers as to what’s going on.”
Giving a quick nod, Lucien left his parents’ tent. He kept his pace slower than usual to allow Johna to keep up with him without overexerting herself. Once they were clear of the structure, she placed a fist to her mouth and coughed. When the coughing increased, he stopped and held her as she bent over to hack up the phlegm.
“It’s getting worse,” he remarked. “Do you want to rest a bit before we go on?”
She hawked and spat. “No. Let’s get this over with. Then I’ll go lie down for a bit.”
They proceeded over to where three of Turenski’s men were standing guard around the tent where the emissary and his men were being kept. Seeing their battle prince, all three saluted. “Go get Turenski for me,” Lucien ordered one of the soldiers. The man hustled away, and Lucien motioned toward the tent. “Do you need to go inside?” he asked her.
“No. I’ll just take a peek through the doorway.” Peeling the flap away, she stared inside the structure. Lucien noticed how she blinked hard a couple of times as she changed her vision. Her eyes were watering, as evidenced by the tears on her dark lashes. She closed the flap and turned to him when Turenski arrived to see what the battle prince wanted.
“You’re to keep the emissary and his guards under quarantine. None of them have had the virus, and Pechard just came from the battle lord’s tent where he could have been infected.”
Turenski nodded in acknowledgement.
“Oh, and if any of them try to leave their tents, you have permission to physically bind them. Just try not to harm them. Understood?”
“Understood. Contain them in any way possible without causing bodily harm.”
Lucien gestured for Johna to follow him on their way back to the big blue and silver tent. When they were out of earshot, he stopped to face her. “Well? What did you find out? Anything?”
“All three men are Normals, and all three have had the virus.”
He stared at her, momentarily stunned by the news. “Are you—”
“Yes, I’m sure,” she snapped. “Why are you always doubting me?”
“I’m not doubting you,” he hastily apologized. “If it sounds that way, I’m sorry. It’s just that…”
“Was it what you were expecting? Or not expecting?”
He started to answer her when a shout came from the outer edge of the encampment, toward the roadway. Lucien rushed through the trees until he reached the line of sentries, and skidded to a stop. They were gathered in a field formation, their swords presented to the line of horsemen filling the road. The strangers were armed and armored, but their weapons appeared to be crudely made, as was their protective gear.
Drawing his own sword, he made his way through the wedge, to the front where he could address this apparent battalion. Standing there, he took a stance and waited for them to make the next move, giving the signal for the men to remain silent and wait for his next command. At some point he knew his father would be notified of the group’s arrival. Until he was, Lucien was in charge.
The mounted regiment remained halted. Lucien couldn’t tell who had spotted whom first, or who had brought this group to a standstill. He scanned the men for some sign of aggression, but their faces were blank. Unreadable. Yet there was a mounting sense of antagonism filling the air, and most of it was coming from the strangers.
There was movement from the middle of the pack. Gradually, the horses parted to allow a man on a pale, almost milky-white stallion to come forward. He stopped less than a dozen yards away from Lucien, and casually removed his helmet.
Lucien felt his eyes widen at the sight of the man who could have been his father’s double. The hair color was off, the scar was slightly different, and the eyes were a deep-set blue. But the resemblance was enough to make him uncomfortable.
“You, there,” the man called out to him. The voice was nothing like his father’s, thankfully. “You. Identify yourself. Why are you on my lands?”
At the last second, Lucien made a decision. “I am Rasman Dakota, son of Gerrod Dakota, Battle Lord of Twelfth Rock. Who are you?”
“I am Yulen D’Jacques, Battle Lord of Alta Novis,” the man replied. “And because you have come upon my land without permission, I have no choice but to consider you to be my enemy. Have your men drop your weapons now, or I will be forced to destroy you.”