Chapter Thirty-Seven
Deceit
Grabbing him by the arm, the battle lord helped his son get to his feet. His legs were a bit wobbly, but after a few moments Lucien managed to stand on his own. Yulen took a deep breath to calm himself. With everything that had occurred these past couple of hours, he felt weak-kneed himself. He needed time himself to re-center and re-focus, but he doubted he would have that luxury. Not now.
He glanced back down at his wife. He didn’t need Iain to tell him she was resting more comfortably. He’d known it seconds after Lucien’s blood began to suffuse itself into her system. Somehow, he’d been able to feel it, like a flood of warmth, easing away the pain. That small reassurance had been enough to allow him to leave the clinic in order to tend to the growing threat outside the compound’s walls.
“You okay?” he asked his youngest again.
Lucien answered with a crooked smile and an honest, “Yeah.”
“I think Iain can take over from here. I want you with me when Pechard arrives.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to get to the bottom of all this. I’m going to find out why the man lied to me, and then I’ll demand to know what part he has in all of this.”
Lucien raised an eyebrow. “You think he’s complicit?”
“Damn right, I do. Come on. Need my hand?”
“I think I can make it.” Lucien took a couple of tentative steps and paused. “Okay. I’m good. Slow, but I can manage.”
They took their time moving into the main dining hall. Lucien stopped just past the doorway and leaned against the wall. He crossed his arms over his chest, making it appear as if he were taking a stance. Yulen didn’t question him why. Neither of them wanted anyone else to know how weak the battle prince was, least of all the emissary.
Mastin entered from the side door. Pechard was ushered in, flanked by two of the battle lord’s men. The second eyed Lucien, and by his questioning glance to Yulen, it was clear he knew something was up, but he wouldn’t say anything until they could talk in private.
“Cole, have a couple of men fetch Luc’s battle garb from the clinic and have it cleaned.”
Again, Mastin looked at Lucien, and realized the young man wore only his pants and tunic. Yulen added before the man could speak, “Have them also clean and bring back his weapons when they’re finished.”
Giving a nod, Mastin hurried out. Yulen gestured for the soldiers to make the emissary sit on the floor. The rest of them remained standing in a circle around him, preventing him from escaping if the man tried to make a break for it.
“What’s this all about, D’Jacques?” Pechard demanded.
“This is about your duplicity in what’s been happening,” Yulen stated. There would be no more diplomacy from him. This man was his enemy now. He waited until his second re-entered the dining hall and joined them before continuing. Perching his hands on his hips, he glared at the emissary. “You lied to us about not ever having the virus.”
“I did not.”
“Yes, you did,” Iain corrected. He strode into the room, never taking his eyes off of the emissary, and pointed a finger at the man. “You’ve had the virus. It took me a while to figure out how Atty got sick, when we didn’t come into contact with anyone else. It’s because you’re a carrier, aren’t you?”
“There’s no one left alive at Green River, is there?” Yulen pushed. “All of this was a ruse to get me and a large number of my men away from Alta Novis, wasn’t it?”
Pechard’s face reddened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What either of you are talking about!”
Lucien walked over to join them, having grown strong enough to be able to stand on his own. “I saw you and that fake D’Jacques exchange looks. You two knew each other.”
Yulen continued. “What was the plan? Was it something the two of you cooked up together? Or is there a third person in on this? Is someone waiting to hear back from you?”
The emissary continued to give them heated looks, but he refused to say anything else. Yulen sighed and gripped the hilt of his sword. The movement was not lost on the man, and his face went from red to bleached white.
“Here’s what I think was supposed to go down. That fake D’Jacques, whatever his real name is, was to cause as much chaos as possible. By claiming to be me, and slaughtering innocents, you wanted to destroy the treaties formed between Mutah and Normal. Or maybe you hoped to rile up other battle lords who’d heard of me but never met me, and have them eventually declare war on me and my compound for betraying their trust.
“While he’s doing that, you were to lure me away from Alta Novis, leaving my compound with fewer men to protect it. You knew the Bloods were in this area. You probably also knew they’d taken Whiterock, and you were hoping we’d fall victim to their ambush. But in case they didn’t manage to overcome us, you hoped you could pass the virus along to as many of us as possible. Make us too sick to defend ourselves.” Yulen bent down to stare him in face. “One small problem with that. All the men I brought with me, with the exception of my son and wife, already had the virus. That left you in a quandary, didn’t it, Pechard?”
The emissary remained mute and defiant.
“What were you two cooking up? To defeat me once and for all? To claim Alta Novis for yourself?”
“Or is your motive to ultimately get rid of every Mutah you can find?” Lucien probed.
“You never figured on us discovering your ruse. You never thought your fake battle lord would come across us, either, did you? That’s why you acted so indignant when you came unannounced into my tent and demanded we keep moving west. It was so we’d miss each other in passing. But because we’d pitched camp, you realized we might encounter each other, and you started to panic,” Yulen surmised. “There are no survivors in Green River, are there? Are you even from Green River?”
“Is there even a Green River compound at all?” Mastin added.
Another thought from out of nowhere struck him, and Lucien took a step closer to the emissary. “That man who escaped Whiterock to let us know the Bloods were there. Durrow. He was part of this scheme, too, wasn’t he? But you had him ordered killed to prevent him from saying anything, didn’t you? So who slit his throat? You or one of your guards?”
Pechard cast a hateful look at Lucien, which answered at least some of their questions. Yulen stepped back in disgust.
“You cast your die with us when your fake friend tried to make a run from the Bloods, and ended up on their dinner table instead. You never anticipated the shit would get this deep. You were thinking your friend and his men would be able to overcome us, or at least provide enough of a diversion to allow you to get away and join up with him later, didn’t you?
“So what’s your plan now, Pechard? In the event I chose to keep going because I’d given my word to help out your fake compound, what were you going to do when we supposedly got there and didn’t find anything?”
“There’s a compound there,” the man finally admitted.
“And probably in the same state of abandonment and decay as this one,” Lucien surmised.
Pechard went silent again, confirming the young man’s guess.
Yulen gave a wave of dismissal. “Bind him and his two henchmen. They’ll be our prisoners until we return home.”
The emissary was lifted to his feet and almost dragged out of the dining hall, when he yelled back over his shoulder, “At least that Mutah bitch of yours got what was coming to her!” The soldiers hurried him outside before he could say more, but Yulen knew the man would be informed that if Atty died, or ended up Damaged, he’d sealed his death warrant.
Mastin grunted, then turned to Yulen. “Are we going to check out Green River, just to be certain?”
“I haven’t decided,” he admitted.
“Don’t forget boom, boom, boom,” Lucien mentioned. “What did he say? There were nine of them in a row?”
“I say it was all a ploy,” the second remarked. “If they couldn’t get rid of you here in Schutz Ridge, then he hoped for better luck when we reached Green River. If not Green River, he’d play on your sympathy to go on to the next compound. Then the next, if there are any. He’d keep playing on your good will to make you push onward until we caved or got wiped out.”
“Sir!” A soldier ran into the room from the main doors. Pausing briefly, he waved an arm and pointed outside. “They’re back!”