The Battle Lord's Lady by Linda Mooney Read Free Book Online Page A

makes a hell of a lot more sense.”
    He carried a satchel over his shoulder. The
bag was of plain tanned leather with an intricate pattern of
porcupine quills adorning the front flap. Setting the satchel on
the table beside her, he rummaged inside. He spoke to her as he was
looking. “You’ve lost some skin around that eye but it shouldn’t
scar. Hope you haven’t lost any vision in the eye, though. Who did
this to you? Karv?”
    Atty pointed to her eye and shook her head.
Pointing to her jaw, she nodded.
    “Why am I not surprised?”
    Pulling out a small brown pouch, he
double-checked the contents and measured out an amount of grayish
powder in the palm of his hand. He dumped the powder into an empty
bowl he found nearby, then added some water from a skin he also
carried. Stirring the mixture with his finger, he handed her the
bowl and helped her to raise her head in order to drink it.
    “This’ll dull the pain somewhat. I don’t have
anything to stabilize that jaw except bandages, and it’s gonna hurt
like the devil when I wrap you. You’ll be glad you drank this.
Yeah, I know it tastes shitty, but it’s not meant to be vintage
wine.” He urged her to drain the bowl, then helped her to lie back
down.
    “My name’s MaGrath.”
    “Atty.”
    “Atty,” he echoed. “Short for anything? Or
just Atty?”
    “Why do you care? I thought you hated Mutah
as much as the others.”
    “What makes you think I hate Mutah?”
    “Didn’t you object to treating me earlier
because I was one?”
    “Are you one?”
    “Yes. I’m not ashamed of it. My family loved
me. I had friends. I won the respect of the other hunters so that
they initiated me into their caste.”
    “With a skill like yours they’d be crazy not
to. Grit your teeth. This is gonna hurt.”
    He’d made a paste of something from his
pouch. He applied it to the side of her face with his fingers. It
did hurt. It also stank to high heaven. He saw her wrinkle her nose
but didn’t comment. When he was done he pulled a roll of cloth from
his pouch and used it to form a quick bandage around her face to
help hold her jaw steady.
    “Did I make it too tight?”
    Atty replied no. She could still manage to
communicate somewhat with just the use of her lips and tongue. “You
haven’t answered my question,” she reminded him.
    “Regarding...”
    “Why do you hate Mutah?”
    “I don’t actually hate them. Ah!” He
held up a hand to halt her protest. “I never told the Battle Lord I
wouldn’t heal one, either. I just reminded him that I’d been ordered not to do it.” Wrapping his
roll of bandages back into a neat ball, he stuffed it into his
pouch.
    “Why do you call him the Battle Lord?”
Talking was difficult, but Atty had to admit that the snug bandage
and the medicants were helping with the pain.
    MaGrath gave her an odd look. “Because he’s
the Battle Lord. Haven’t you heard of him?”
    Again she managed to shake her head
gently.
    “What do you call him, then?”
    “Cleaners.”
    “Cleaners? Oh, that’s right. I’ve heard that
term before. Because they cleanse the earth of the unnaturals, the
ones made abhorrent by nature. The human beings made inhuman when
the Great Concussion changed everything. And you think I’m a
Cleaner?”
    “Aren’t you?”
    “I’m a physician. I heal the sick. I help
those dying to die more easily. I also make a mean rabbit
Tetrazzini. But I won’t lie to you. If you had four eyes or a big,
bulbous something-or-other protruding from your chest, or anything
like that, I don’t care if Yulen ordered me with a lance at my
throat. Mutah give me nightmares, and I’m not ashamed to admit
that. Now, speaking of admitting, as your doctor I order you to
keep your mouth shut for the next day or so. At least until we get
back to camp. What? What’s the matter? Are you in pain?” The sudden
welling of tears had taken the physician off-guard.
    Instead of answering, Atty pulled her knees
up to her chest and buried her