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?”
Her question surprised him. “Huh?”
She sighed and gave him a patient look. It was one he’d seen countless times growing up. Where Mattox tried to help him live up to his name and family heritage when it came to war and battle, Mistelle took it upon herself to have him observe everyone’s special abilities. Including those like himself who’s uniqueness wasn’t as visibly evident.
Mattox was the older brother trying to get his younger sibling to become self-sufficient. Mistelle was the sister who taught him the value of forming close, emotional bonds. Despite their age differences, Lucien couldn’t love them more.
“How do you feel, being told you’re going with them? You do realize there’s the possibility you may not survive.”
“Why do you say that? Because I didn’t catch the virus?”
She appeared momentarily stunned. “Oh, shit. That’s right! You didn’t get sick!”
“But many of us didn’t,” he reminded her. “I heard Dr. Fergus tell Dad one time that approximately one in three people in the compound became ill with the virus. And out of those who did, the odds were fifty-fifty they’d survive. That meant half of everyone who got sick died.”
“Yeah, but the half who survived, if they were Mutah…” She made a disparaging sound. “Those were scary times, Luc. Shit, do you remember Tancy Olvering?”
At the mention of the Mutah shoemaker’s name, a shudder went through him. The man had been among the first who, less than a week after recovering from the virus, suddenly turned on several of his patrons and began stabbing them with an awl. One man died and two others were severely wounded before the battle lord’s guards managed to subdue him. It was because of all the testing Fergus and Liam MaGrath did on the man that everyone learned about the cause and origin of the Damaged.
“Dad had no idea how close he’d come to dying from the virus when he and Mother were up in Corado at Rocky Gorge.”
“They didn’t know at the time that that was how the virus started,” Mistelle noted. “When those infected people took it to the other Mutah compounds, they had no idea how devastating it would become.”
“Dad’s blood helped to save so many people.”
“Yep.” She gave a nod. “That’s why Fergus and Liam were able to make a serum to help cure anyone who came in contact with the virus.” She grimaced. “Too bad it doesn’t work if the people have already gotten over the virus, like that family. If they’d been truthful and told us that they had contracted the disease, what that mother did when she turned may have been avoided.”
She groaned loudly, stretching her arms above her head. Her golden-red hair, so much the same color as their father’s, glinted in the lantern light. “I’m tired. Bet you are, too.” She gave him a side-eye. “I hear Matt really did a number on you out on the practice field.”
“When doesn’t he?” Getting to his feet, Lucien reached for the door latch. “I think I’ll go pack. See you later at dinner, okay?”
“Sure! Any idea what we’re having?”
He paused. “It smelled like armadillo.”
“I love armadillo, especially when it’s roasted in the shell. I hope Berta includes some of those roasted pecans with it.”
Lucien smiled. “Me, too. Later, sis.”
She waggled her fingers at him in goodbye as he closed the door behind him.