4
Dinner
“—sending out our Mutah hunters to try and see if they can round up some extra kills, in case we start to run short again, and Berta needs to fall back on it.”
Yulen looked up when Mattox walked into the small dining area where he and Atty were having dinner. Unbuckling his weapons belt, Mattox slung it over the chair’s back and took the seat next to his father. Atty smiled across the table at him. “I had a feeling you’d come see what was on the menu,” his mother said with a smile.
“I prefer your cooking to whatever’s being served in the main hall. And, yeah, I know they use your recipes, but it always tastes better when you do it,” he admitted. He grabbed the pot of potatoes and helped himself to a hefty serving.
“You just missed Luc.”
“Nah. I saw him on the way here.” Holding out his plate, he asked, “Throw some of that squirrel on there.”
“Please,” his father pressed with amusement.
“Please. What were you just saying about the Mutah hunters?”
“The kitchen is seeing an influx of mouths to feed,” Atty responded. “We suspect either the visiting battle lords aren’t feeding their soldiers enough, or their own food is inferior.”
“Or they prefer what’s coming out of the kitchen instead of being forced to eat all those trail rations at their encampments,” Mattox proposed. “I don’t blame them in the least.”
“Could be,” Yulen admitted. “Whatever the reason, the kitchen is running short before all our men can be fed, and they’re having to scramble to come up with additional grub for them.”
“Maybe you need to put out an edict that says our men get fed first. Or their soldiers cannot use our dining hall,” Mattox suggested.
Yulen made a face. “I’d hate to have to do that. Like you said, our meals may be the only decent food those men are getting.”
Mattox chewed a piece of meat off a bone. That was his father. Always looking out for those who served him first. The exact opposite of Vega City’s battle lord.
He eyed the two other empty chairs at the table. Mistelle was probably eating with her husband, Nevo, and their new two-month-old daughter, Trailee. Knowing Luc had eaten here earlier probably meant Johna was out doing something with their son.
“I was thinking I could send out Phenton and a few others to see what they can scrounge up.” Atty continued the conversation, allowing Mattox to sit back and listen as he indulged himself in a helping of the dandelion greens.
This was comfort, he told himself. This setting, his family, their time around the table with or without his siblings, was a source of happiness for him. He even sat in the same chair every time, he mused. When he was younger, he remembered being placed in a high chair next to his mother where she’d feed him. Or let him play with his food as he sometimes stuffed portions of it into his mouth. When he got old enough, he was given a booster seat next to his father, and Misty earned the high chair when she could sit up in it. She was promoted to the chair next to her mother when she got bigger, and that was the way they were for many years, until Lucien miraculously appeared. Inevitably Misty was shifted over to the chair next to Mattox, to give Luc that prestigious position beside Atty. But Mattox remained in the chair beside his father.And probably will for the rest of my life,he told himself.
That last musing hit him hard, and he almost choked on what was in his mouth. Glancing up, he saw his parents in conversation and thankfully ignorant of his emotional flinch.
Now that he was keenly aware, he could see the signs that told him his father was getting up in years. The man had streaks of grayish-white interspersed through his head of reddish-blond hair. His face bore evidence of the years of stress of being a battle lord with a long history of near-death experiences. Plus, there were days Yulen D’Jacques had a hard time maintaining the stamina needed during sword practice. But for a man in his sixties, Mattox had to admire the sheer grit his father displayed.
His father wouldn’t live forever, and Mattox knew that, but he refused to think about the inevitability. If and when the time came when he’d have to place the man’s body on the funeral pyre, he’d still continue to sit in this same chair, regardless of the fact that he’d become the next battle lord. And it would stay that way, if for no other reason than the chair his father sat in would remain forever empty once Yulen passed.
“Mattox?”
He jerked his attention over to his mother. Unlike her husband, her hair bore no sign of gray. It was as blue as the day his father first met her, or so Yulen had once confided in him. Neither were there any age lines on her beautiful face. Yet there was a mature quality to her countenance. An aura of self-assurance and strength seemed to flow from her. And comfort. When he was growing up, it was as if just being with her would protect him from anything that came at him.
She tilted her head in a way that told him she was waiting for his attention. Atty wore a smile he knew so well. She had a way of reading him that initially used to annoy him when he was younger. Now it was a precious link he felt blessed to have with her. Even though he sometimes believed she could almost read his mind, he knew she couldn’t. But there was an emotional connection between them. A connection he shared also with his two siblings. A connection that let her know, as in this case, when something was bothering him. She’d probably felt it before he’d joined them at the table, but had chosen not to say anything until he brought it up, or she felt compelled to. It was turning out to be the latter.
“Is there something you wanted to tell us?” she gently prodded.
“I just came from the main hall.” He had no problem telling them what he knew. He never hid anything from them. It wouldn’t do any good if he tried, because sooner or later her mother would catch on he was holding something back. And in this day and age, any form of secrecy could endanger lives.
“The battle lord from Vega City decided to take a seat at our table. And before you ask, yes, there were other seats available in the hall, but not where they could all sit together.”
“What did you say to him?” Yulen asked. Not if Mattox had confronted the man, because he knew his firstborn too well.
“I told him he was sitting at the battle lord’s table, and he had to move. That’s when he told me his name was Lorgon Edge, and he was the battle lord of Vega City, and because it was a battle lord’s table, that meant he had every right to sit there.” Mattox made a face. “Then he told me to come tell you he was here.”
“Consider it done,” Yulen quipped. “But that’s not what’s got your dander up.”
