1
Welcome
“Rykker’s Point and Darroget just arrived,” Cole Mastin announced as he strode into the barracks. He stared specifically at the dark-haired man sitting on the stool in the corner. “The battle lord wants you to go over and give them the welcome spiel this time.”
“Fuck it. Send Dudicoff. I got work to do,” Mattox D’Jacques grumbled. His hands never paused as he continued to clean his sword.
“It’s your duty. And inheritance.”
“Mydutyis protecting this compound. Not babysitting a bunch of self-indulgent battle lords.”
“This gathering is important to both him and your mother. He needs your support.” Mastin sighed loudly. “Better get used to it now, because once you take over running Alta Novis—”
Giving a little snarl, Mattox got to his feet and jammed the sword back into its sheath. “Maybe I’ll get my second to do it for me, the way Dad does,” he halfway taunted.
Mastin held his ground, unaffected by the man’s dour nature. He was used to it. “You know Yulen wants as many of the battle lords to be aware of you as possible.”
“Yeah, yeah. He hangs me out like a prized turkey.”
“Now you’re being asinine.”
“What? The truth hurts?” Mattox gave him a scarlet glare, even though he knew it would have no effect on his father’s second.
“Don’t you think your mother felt the same way when people judged her because of the color of her hair?”
“Her blue hair doesn’t intimidate people the way my eyes do,” Mattox snapped, then suddenly turned away. “But maybe it’s a good thing. After they get a good look, they leave me alone, and that’s fine with me.”
Mastin dropped his voice. “Hey, just between us, I’m not a big fan of these get-togethers any more than you are. But they only occur every five years, and they help tremendously with relations between Normals and Mutah.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I read you loud and clear.”
He strode toward the door as Mastin called out, “Assign them to section three!”
Waving a hand to let the man know he’d been heard, Mattox strode out of the building and headed for the main lodge.
The front courtyard was teeming with newcomers. Like all the others, both battle lords had brought along their own small squadron of soldiers, plus wagons of supplies.Pure pandemonium,Mattox mused to himself. The soldiers from Alta Novis paid no attention to him as he made his way through the sea of new arrivals, but the ones who’d accompanied their battle lords gave him a wide berth once they saw his face.
One man inadvertently stepped in front of him as he dismounted from his horse. Mattox tried to avoid running into him, and ended up accidentally bumping arms.
“Hey, douche bag! Watch where you’re—” The guy froze, blood draining from his face as their eyes locked.
Mattox frowned. “Excuse me.” Not making any further apology, he continued toward the big building where people were coming and going through the double front doors.
The tables were nearly full of soldiers eating, drinking, and talking. The kitchen help were busy serving the newcomers, running to and from the kitchen. Fortunately, no one paid much attention to him entering.
Mattox headed for the front of the big room. Despite the warm temperature outside, the massive rock fireplace had a small blaze going in the hearth. It threw out a miniscule amount of heat, but it did give the place a welcoming ambiance.
Nevo Mastin was already at the head table. From the way he was watching Mattox approach, it was clear he was there as backup. Mattox smiled to himself. The guy wasn’t just his brother-in-law. He was also, albeit unofficially, his second in command, the same way Nevo’s father, Cole, was his father’s second.
“Thanks for coming.” Nevo flashed half a grin. “I thought Luc might be joining me. Glad to see it’s you.”
“Why? Because you prefer my company over his?” Mattox quipped.
“No, because you intimidate the hell out of these guys when they first arrive. Keeps them from puffing out their chests and trying to intimidatemewith how ‘important’they are.” Nevo made air quotes with this fingers. “Plus, you definitely have the overt Mutah look going for you.”
“Yeah. Just my luck. Awright. Let’s get this over with. I promised Tracer I’d meet him over on the practice field before supper.”
Turning around, Mattox glanced over the mass of people gathered. It was easy to tell each set of delegates apart. They sat in their own individual clusters, on opposite sides of the hall, with D’Jacques’ soldiers filling in the middle.
