“Two.”
“Wait, wait.” Edge gestured for his men to hold. Slowly, he rose to his feet. Mattox recognized the expression the man wore. He’d seen it a few times on his father’s face whenever he was about to get a tongue-lashing or worse. Preparing himself, he stood his ground.
“So you’re the battle lord’s pup. I should have known, judging by your arrogance. I don’t have time to deal with you right now. We’ve come a long way for this conference. We’re tired, and we’re hungry. Let us have our meal in peace, then we’ll be on our way.”
Mattox cocked his head at the man. What was it Renken had said? The man had arrived with three hundred troops?
“And while you indulge yourself, what of your men? Are they also getting the chance to eat? Or are they waiting for you to return while also fighting hunger and exhaustion?”
That remark riled Edge. Mattox watched as the man’s face turned beet red. To antagonize the battle lord further, he turned his attention to the woman sitting across from him.
Whatever he’d planned on saying to her was completely obliterated from his mind when he stared at her face. Into a pair of dark brown eyes that sparkled with her own rising anger, until she got a good look at him, and the blood drained from her face. Her mouth dropped open slightly, her full lips a dark pink. She inadvertently licked them, leaving a moisture that glistened in the firelight.
Soft. Inviting.
Mentally shaking himself, Mattox gave her an equally dour look. “A true battle lord looks after his men first. A true battle lord doesn’t indulge himself to the detriment of his troops. Troops he relies on for protection. Troops who could turn on him at any moment when they discover their leader puts himself above them. Or, if they’re already aware of the man’s disrespect, and have become growingly resentful of their treatment, are willing to stand aside when the battle lord needs them most. I strongly suggest you think twice about what you’re doing.”
One more scathing look at Edge and his soldiers, and he quickly exited the main hall before his temper got the best of him.
Outside, he paused at the corner of the building and took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself. He was still peeved over Edge’s arrogance, but the woman’s face… Even now, the image floated in his mind’s eye, elusive but clear. Who was she? More importantly, what was her relation to Edge? She looked nothing like him. She didn’t have the same coloring.
“Drop it,” he ordered himself under his breath. “The last thing you need is to chase tail. She’s with him, and she can have him.”
A figure approached. Despite the darkness quickly falling, Mattox could easily identify the soldier.
“Ho, Luc!”
“Matt?” The youngest D’Jacques son walked up to him. “What’s up?”
“Have you had supper yet?”
Lucien grinned. “Yep. Mom fixed squirrel. I know Berta’s staff uses Mom’s recipes when they fix it, but it always tastes better when Mom does it herself.”
Mattox snorted. “I won’t argue with you there. Hope you left me a bite. I’m heading over there now.”
“You know Mom. She always fixes more than enough.”
“Where you headed?”
“To the main lodge. Why?”
Mattox shook his head. “The battle lord from Vega City decided to sit at our head table. Son of a bitch has his head up his butt and won’t move.”
As he expected, Lucien frowned in concern. “Are there no other seats available?”
“Here and there. They just wouldn’t be able to sit together. Anyway, he needs to be welcomed and shown where to park his tents…and his three hundred soldiers.”
That last got another reaction from his sibling. “Threehundred?For crying out loud, why so many?”
Snorting, Mattox replied, “Once you talk to him, you’ll know why. I reamed the guy out for thinking only of himself first when he demanded to be fed. Bastard doesn’t care his men are just as tired and hungry as he claims to be. All he’s interested in is feeding his own face first. I left before I said anything else he might take as a threat.”
Lucien nodded. “There are too many battle lords like him, unfortunately. Don’t worry, big bro. I’ll take care of it.” He slapped Mattox on the shoulder. “You go on and grab a bite. But be sure to tell Dad what happened.”
“Don’t worry. I will. Good luck.”
His brother chuckled. “Thanks. I just might need it.”
Mattox didn’t watch to see the younger battle prince enter the main lodge. Instead, he continued toward the two-story building behind it where he could already smell the delicious scent of roasted squirrel wafting from that direction.
