Lucien (The D'Jacques Dynasty #1)

Normally, Lucien would rankle whenever his father gave him a direct, no arguing command. This time, though, he heard the heartfelt plea in the battle lord’s voice. It wasn’t so much an order as it was a wish that there would be no need for Lucien to seek assistance.

He glance up over his shoulder at the man. He noticed how his father’s eyes searched his face, as if trying to reassure himself that his son was still healthy. “I will,” he promised.

Yulen gave him a lopsided grin. “Thanks. By the way, try the sausage. It’s muskrat, and they used your mother’s recipe.”

Lucien chuckled. “In that case, I’ll grab a couple of links to take on the road.”

Yulen patted his shoulder and left the dining hall. Scouring the room, Lucien noticed that the majority of the soldiers were also heading out the front doors. He also realized that he’d been left on his own, in direct violation of the battle lord’s orders. Rather than question the slight, he took one last bite from his platter, then hurried to the kitchen to put in a request for an order of sausage to go.





Chapter Twelve


Whiterock


The weather was cold and drizzly the entire way to Whiterock. Add to that, the terrain gradually became more hilly, which made for some difficulty in getting the heavily loaded wagons up the steeper parts of the roadway, slowing down their progress. Along the route, conversation was sparse, if at all.

Lucien said nothing about his uneasiness, which continued to gnaw at him during the trek. With his parents in close proximity, especially his mother with her Mutah hearing, he didn’t dare. Even if he’d felt like it or wanted to, Yulen asked for reduced noise as the miles went by.

“Don’t forget that these are not just Damaged. They’re also Mutah, which means they’ll be aware of us approaching long before we see or hear them,” the battle lord explained in a soft voice.

“How will we know if Whiterock is safe?” Paas asked.

“Good question,” Renken quipped.

“We won’t,” Atty admitted.

Mastin whispered, “What’s our plan if Whiterock is occupied? Do we try to take it back? Or do we go around and avoid any confrontation?”

“We’ll have to see what the situation is before we make a decision,” Yulen admitted.

They continued on for a few more hours, never stopping as a whole for a break, as was normal protocol. The only time anyone broke ranks was for a quick chance to relieve himself. They ate their rations from their saddles as the weather went from drizzly to a light but steady rain. Fortunately, being encased in their metal armor kept most of the moisture at bay. If they’d been wearing only their soft leather armor, everyone would have been soaked to the skin within their first few hours on the road.

It was growing dark when they topped a small rise. The compound lay in the distance atop another hill, barely visible in the fog. Lucien stared at the walled structure as Yulen raised his arm, fist clenched in the signal to halt.

“Shouldn’t we have been hailed by the outpost guard by now?” Mastin remarked.

In answer, Yulen glanced back at his men. Lucien saw his father look to the two seconds before eyeing him, then turn back to Atty. “Getting anything?”

She gave a quick shake of her head.

“What do you think?” Paxton queried. “Bad strategy not to man the outposts? Or maybe the compound fell.”

“It’s possible the compound lost too many men for the battle lord to assign perimeter guards,” Atty suggested.

“The last thing you should withdraw are your perimeter guards,” Yulen countered. “Even if your numbers are sorely depleted, you can’t afford allowing your enemy the opportunity to sneak up on you.”

“Dad?”

Yulen gave his son a quizzical eye. Lucien motioned toward the compound. “Why aren’t there any lights? There should at least be some signal lights along the top of the wall.”

The battle lord whirled around to double-check, as did those gathered nearby. If keeping a perimeter guard was imperative, lighting the compound walls was more so.

“Guess we know who’s in charge now,” Mastin remarked, silently confirming what they all were thinking. Whiterock was no longer under Normal control.

“Do you think they know we’re here?” Renken whispered.

“If there’s anyone there at all,” Echo wondered aloud. “Maybe it’s been abandoned.”

Lucien peered back at the troops lined up behind them. They moved in ranks of twos, sometimes threes, along the roadway. Because of the inclement weather, they didn’t carry any torches. Neither was there any moonlight to reflect off their metal armor. And they were too far away for the sound of the horses or their hooves on the packed earth to be heard. For the moment, they were invisible to the compound.

“Only one way to find out.” Atty slipped off her mare. To no one’s surprise, Echo also dismounted. She gave the young woman a curious stare. “I think should do this alone.”

“Not without backup,” Echo countered, making it clear there would be no further arguing on the matter. Seeing the woman’s reasoning, Atty gave a nod of agreement.

“We’ll retreat to the forest and wait for you there,” Yulen told her. Lucien watched him lean over his stallion to softly add, “Be careful, beloved.” His parents kissed, then Atty took off on foot toward the compound with the warrior woman right behind her.

The battle lord gave the signal to dismount. He then signaled to Paxton to take the rear squad of mostly New Bearinger soldiers and disburse into the woods on the north side of the road. Everyone else accompanied Yulen and Mastin past the trees on the south side.

They led their mounts deep into the forest, tying the reins to bared branches before returning to the tree line to wait. Lucien found a position where he could see the compound, and crouched down behind a pile of toppled trunks. He felt Iain approach but said nothing when the physician plopped down beside him.

“Anything?” His friend’s voice was barely audible.

“If you’re asking me if I can see or hear anything that you can’t, the answer is no.” Lucien glanced over at where the young man was pulling off his gloves with his teeth. “What are you doing?”

“I want to check your head wound.”

“Now? Can’t it wait?”

“It won’t take but a moment.”

“It’s too dark to see anything.”

“I don’t need to examine it. I just want to make sure the bandage is still dry.”

“It’s raining.”

“The trees are keeping the worst of the rain off of us.” Despite the near darkness, Iain’s irritation was evident.

Grimacing, Lucien carefully removed his helmet and turned around to let the physician do what he needed to do. A few yards away he could barely make out his father deep in discussion with Mastin and Renken, as well as a couple of captains of the guard. Like him, the battle lord had chosen a position to keep sight of the compound and not the road, leaving the route to be covered by his soldiers.

A pinprick of pain streaked through his head. Hissing through his teeth, Lucien ducked his head. “Are you done?”

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