The Warriors of Valishna (Cartharia Book 1)

by Spencer Reaves McCoy

  Janice was with the group near the front of the formation, "Lieutenant," she said, saluting. Matilyn ignored this, instead glancing forward. "You saw troops?"

  One of the men, Justin, stepped forward, "Yes," he said, "I saw a part of Lamonte men. There were maybe one hundred of them. If I had to guess."

  "Seventy," Janice said, "That's my count, anyway."

  Matilyn let out a low curse, "We'll have to take them out," she said, "That's too many men to leave unchecked."

  "Take our entire Charge off course might not be the best course of action, Lieutenant," Janice said.

  "I'm not taking the entire charge," Matilyn said, "We'll send out a squadron. Men that can move fast and hit hard. I think Eldrin's men can handle it. Where is he?"

  "Right here," Eldrin said, stepping up beside her. "What can my men handle?"

  "Lamonte troops," Matilyn said, "I want your squadron to go take them out. THhey're nearby. Maybe seventy of them. I'll lead the attack."

  Sean shook his head, "With all due respect," he said, "I'm not sure that's the best idea. You're the highest ranking officer here. We don't want to risk your life in a skirmish before we even reach Lamonte shores. I'll go in your place."

  Matilyn wanted to argue but knew he was right. "Alright," she agreed, "You guys get out of here. I'll go talk to the men in the back, let them know what's going on."

  Sean nodded as Matilyn cut to the back of the troops, "Listen up," she said.

  All eyes turned to her, "There's a group of Lamonte soldiers up ahead," she told them, "We're sending Captain Eldrin's men to take care of them."

  She held up a hand to forestall any questions, "It's only seventy men," she said, "Maybe one hundred, "Nothing to worry about. Eldrin's men are large enough to stop them but small enough to catch back up before we get too far ahead. What I need from you is vigilance. I need you to pay attention and make sure we're not going to get cut back on by more troops."

  "Is that a possibility?" Sasha stepped forward, frowning.

  "I don't believe so," Matilyn said. "If there was a large troop in this area, our men would have spotted them already. We're not taking anything at face value, though. Those men are headed somewhere and we don't know how close that location is."

  Sasha nodded.

  "If you see anything, no matter how small, come find me," Matilyn said, "If you can't find me, find Captain Janice Akins, and let her know. She's with the rest of the archers on the outside ring."

  Everyone nodded.

  "If there are other Lamonte forces in the area, are we going to take out as well?" Sasha asked.

  "If we're confronted or we can get the element of surprise," Matilyn said, "But I don't think the latter is going to happen and we're doing everything we can to prevent the former. If we can stop their forces from delivering reports, we'll do that, but our primary objective is to get to the Arinford shore before the ships deploy."

  Sasha nodded again.

  "Any other questions?" she asked.

  "Is it just Captain Eldrin's men going?" A soldier named Jacob asked. "If there's room, I'd like to go."

  Matilyn looked around for Sean, "Executor Sweeton is helping lead the task force. He's collecting men right now. If you want to go with him, go find him and let him know."

  Jacob hurried away.

  "Anything else?" Matilyn asked.

  Nobody said anything, so Matilyn headed back to the front of the charge to continue the march.

  "Team Alpha," Sean said, "You're with me. We're going to move quick and come in from the front. Captain Eldrin's men, Team Bravo, you're going to come in from the back. Push them towards us."

  Eldrin and Sean shared a salute and then Sean took off with half of Eldrin's men. They moved as quickly as possible, trying to put distance between themselves and the enemy troops. Once they'd gotten a good distance ahead, they cut back in and waited.

  The waiting was the difficult part. Sean knew that Eldrin would be leading his men forward at any point, to force the Lamonte soldiers to either fight or attempt to flee. If it was the latter, they'd be taken out by Sean's group. Since it was a such a small unit of Lamonte men, Sean felt confident that with the element of surprise, they'd easily take them out.

  Still, he worried. He couldn't help it. He could feel Matilyn's worry too, every time he touched the amulet hanging around his neck. She worried about Eldrin, but she also worried about everyone. He shared in that emotion, drinking it in like it was life. It wasn't a choice; it was just something that came naturally. The amulet seemed to suck in emotions and feelings and thoughts alongside it's energy.

  He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't get rid of it. He was mostly recovered by now, but he hadn't told Janice, Matilyn, or Eldrin that. Still, he no longer needed them to fill the amulet with energy.

  It continued to draw in excess energy from the camp as a whole, though, on it's own... well, with just a little encouragement from Sean. Usually the thoughts that came with the emotions and energy were fragmented and solitary, just a lone word repeated over and over, or anger undirected yet.

  Sometimes though, sometimes he came upon thoughts and emotions that had a vibrancy that he couldn't help but draw into himself. Usually they were simple things; someone thinking of their little brother's laugh, a boy day dreaming about the girl with the yellow hair, a memory of a day spent by the seaside, dark, festering hate for Lamonte

  He did know it was wrong, but it was so easy, such a simple thing to do, to draw on the energy from the little stone around his neck, to let it fill him, to let it fuel him.

  "Executor Sweeton, I just saw the signal," Jacob, the man who'd rode along, whispered to Sean. "Should we push forward?"

  Sean nodded. He turned back to the group and made a quick hand signal to move forward. They moved slowly and quietly at first, but when they heard three sharp whistles, Sean unsheathed his sword and ran forward, the men following his example quickly. They no longer stayed silent, instead filling the air with sharp ringing cries. For Arinford! some shouted. Others screamed out the names of Valishna or Teirford, or family they'd lost.

  When they neared the fleeing Lamonte men, it was obvious that Eldrin's men had caught them by surprise; they were halved, at the least, and many of the fleeing men had injuries. Sean's group quickly fell in to finish them off.

  Sean missed with his sword against one of the men, piercing his gut instead of his chest. The man fell to his knees, bleeding out. Sean knelt down beside him.

  "Kill me," the man begged.

  "In a moment," Sean said. "I want you to feel something first."

  He slipped the amulet off his neck and pushed it into the dying man's hand. His eyes widened. "What is it?"

  "It's everything," Sean said. "But do you feel it? Do you feel how beautiful it is? This is what I feel all the time."

  The soldier said nothing. Sean knew what was happening though; he was hearing the voices, feeling the thoughts of everyone that had ever donated--willingly or not--to the amulet's energy supply.

  "Do you see what you've done?" Sean asked him, "Do you see what your people--your king--have done to our people? How they've made us feel?"

  "I--" the soldier started to say something else but then coughed. The sound was thick and painful.

  "Executor? What's going on?" One of the men nearby called over to him, "Everything okay?"

  Sean looked over and nodded, "Everything's fine," he said, "I just hit a little low. Didn't quite finish the job." He took the amulet back from the man's grip and slipped the chain back around his neck. He looked down at the soldier, "Your people are wrong. I hope you see that now."

  The soldier could say nothing. Sean took the dagger from its sheathe, and cut the man's throat, finishing the job. As he stood up, he saw Eldrin heading over to him, "Are we done?"

  Eldrin nodded, "We didn't lose a man," he said, "Not a single one."

  Sean glanced down at the dead man on the ground, the one he'd finally shared his secret with. Then he looked up at
Eldrin and smiled, "Good," he said, "Let's head back."

  FOURTEEN

  Special Cause is Here

  WILL TOOK A DRINK OF HIS COFFEE, grimacing. Normally, he'd be drinking with Rafinnel, but they'd broken tradition that morning. Rafinnel was in an officers' meeting with the commanders beneath him.

  They'd arrived in Lamonte a few weeks before, and it had surprised Will. He didn't realize he'd been expecting something different from Arinford until he realized they weren't so different.

  The weather was warmer and the vegetation was more marshy than farmable, but the Kingdom didn't have the eerie, haunted feeling that Will had imagined. It didn't feel like home, but nothing really did.

  He felt the best when he was riding alongside Rafinnel. They'd become close while riding together. Will found him to be a compelling conversationalist, even if he was more religious than the prince.

  Rafinnel asked almost every morning if Will had dreamt the night before. Part of him was a little ashamed of the dreams; he didn't know what they meant or why they chose to come to him. He detested everything about the visions that filled his nightly slumber.

  Will finished his coffee and stood, sighing. He made his way through camp, saluting people as he went. Most of the soldiers returned the gesture with good grace. At first, they'd treated him like an outsider, someone they were forced to respect, someone that had yet to prove himself to them.

  Now, though, they'd mostly started treating him like one of their own. Will much preferred the camaraderie to the meaningless gestures of respect.

  Will went to the medical tents, poking his head inside. Several people were laid out on fur mats, either recovering from recent battle or waiting for a healer to see them.

  There was a Priest there named Marcia Slant. She looked up when she heard Will enter. "Prince William," she greeted. "How are you this morning?"

  "I'm good," Will said, "But I've said it before, and I"ll say it again. Just Will, please."

  Marcia laughed, "Will, then," she agreed. "What can I do for you?"

  "I wanted to see the injured," Will said. "Do you mind?"

  "Not at all," Marcia said. She beckoned him further inside. Will walked amongst the patients. Those with minor injuries greeted him enthusiastically, but it was the ones with the more severe wounds that Will headed for.

  There was a young man on one of the mats, his abdomen covered in bandages. There was a putrid smell arising from him, and his face was shiny with sweat. His lips looked dry and cracked.

  Will knelt beside him, taking his hand. The man woke at the gesture, turning slightly to see Will. "My Prince," he said.

  "I wanted to come and thank you personally for your service," Will said. He studied the man. He didn't look well, that much was certain. Will would be surprised if he made it through another night. "What you did," he said, "fighting for Arinford. Thank you. Your service means everything to me."

  "Will the Gods remember that?" the man croaked out. "I've done bad in my life before. I've lied, and cheated, and stolen from my neighbors. Will the Gods remember the good I did, for the Guard, when it comes time for my reckoning?"

  Will swallowed. It was still hard for him, to see the men like this. He felt like it was his responsibility, though. He knew that Priests were better with their words--they trained for eight years, after all--but he still did his best.

  "The Gods will remember," he promised. "Whatever happened in your life, it's forgiven."

  "Do you believe?" the man asked suddenly, "Do you believe what is said, that we're the chosen ones?"

  Will didn't believe that, but he smiled anyway. "Of course," he said, "Arinford is destined to win this war. You've played your part well. I won't forget you. What's your name?"

  "Michael," he said. "Michael Kent. My mother was a seamstress. She was so proud when I enlisted."

  "Were you from Valishna?" Will asked.

  "No," the man breathed out, "From Alleka, one of the fishing villages near Valishna. They attacked us the night after. We weren't ready for it--most people died. I made it out though, so did my mother. She's going to be heartbroken."

  "Why?" Will said.

  Michael laughed. The laugh quickly turned into a cough though, and Will could hear a raspy, choking sound in the man's throat. "I'm dying," he said. "Don't pretend you can't see that."

  "I see it," Will agreed, "That's why I'm here, thanking you."

  Michael nodded.

  Will squeezed his hand, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

  "Write home for me," Michael said, "send a letter to my mother. I'm too weak to write. Will you transcribe for me, Prince William?"

  Will nodded. He turned to Marcia. "Will you bring me a pen and paper?"

  She nodded and hurried to do so.

  It wasn't the first time that Will had been asked to send a letter home on behalf of one of the dying men. It wasn't quite the same as helping in battle, but it made him feel like he was making a difference. It made him feel like he had a chance. A chance at surviving the war, and more importantly, the chance for surviving the storms that were sure to follow.

  Penny slid her hand down the boy's arm, feeling for the break. When she found it, she quickly focused on her finding her Chakran, and extending that energy outwards. The bone slowly mended back together.

  "Does it hurt?" Penny asked.

  The boy shook his head, "No," he told her.

  "Good," Penny said. She looked over at his mother, "I deadened the nerves, but it won't last forever. He'll probably wake up later tonight with some residual pain, but other than that, he should be alright."

  "Thank you," the mother said, "You're a godsend, Priest Belmonte."

  Penny gave her a weary smile and waited for the next person in line to step forward. A teenage girl was next. She had a large gash on her left cheek, nearly to the bone.

  "Good gods," Penny said, standing up, "What in the world happened to you?"

  "Soldiers," the girl said.

  Penny grabbed her arm, pulling her forward. "Sit down," she directed. The girl did so. "Does it hurt?"

  "No," the teenager said, sounding defiant. Penny could see the tears sparkling in the corners of her eyes, though. She reached over for some antibacterial spray.

  "Not even a little?" she asked. "Well, you're braver than I am. What's your name?"

  "Claire."

  "Well, Claire," Penny said, "The wound might not hurt, but this spray is going to. We have to make sure the cut gets cleaned though, or you're going to end up with a nasty infection. You might anyway, but this should cut down on that chance. I want you to tell me when you're ready."

  Claire balled her hands into fists in preparation. "I'm ready."

  Penny quickly sprayed the wound. The girl winced but didn't cry out. Penny leaned back, impressed. "What happened, anyway?"

  "I told you," Claire said, "Soldiers happened."

  "That's not an answer," Penny said, "That could mean anything."

  "It means I mouthed off to the wrong one," Claire said, "and he didn't take kindly to it. What's it matter to you?"

  Penny shrugged a shoulder. "I guess it doesn't," she agreed, before carefully extending her fingers towards the wound. She focused again, trying to draw on her Chakran. For a moment, she felt nothing and nearly panicked. Then the warmth filled her and she was able to heal the wound.

  "It's going to scar a little," Penny said, "Nothing I can do about that. And it'll probably bruise. You'll be in pain for a few days. If it looks like it's swelling though, or turning colors, get back here immediately. Understand?"

  Claire nodded. "Thank you," she said, going back to her feet.

  Penny nodded, "Oh, and Claire? Try not to mouth off to soldiers. It's a deadly habit."

  Claire offered a fleeting smile before leaving. Robert stepped through the door next.

  "Robert?" Penny said, "Are you alright?"

  "I'm fine," Robert said, "Sit down, you look exhausted. How long have you been healing today, Pen?"

/>   Penny considered, "Six hours," she said, "Give or take a few minutes."

  "And did you eat?" Robert asked.

  Penny shook her head.

  "I didn't think so," Robert said with a sigh. "You really have to start taking care of yourself. You look like a wreck."

  "There's nobody else to help," Penny said, "The other Priests are too afraid. There's just me. How am I supposed to cut back? Valishna needs healers."

  Robert couldn't argue that. The soldiers in the city were often vicious and brutal, striking out at civilians who spoke out against them. Peter Sterling did his best to control them, but he was only one man in a city full of thousands. He couldn't be everywhere at once. To his credit, whenever a crime against a civilian was reported to him, he punished the guilty soldier.

  He couldn't punish everyone though. That's where Penny came in. She knew the soldiers didn't like her healing--it had never been a popular practice in Lamonte, and it made them uneasy. They'd started to harass her about it when she first set up shop in the back room of the Chapel, but Peter had issued a warning that anyone interfering with healing would be executed.

  The threat worked. Soldiers left her alone. People, however, didn't. She spent most of her time healing the injured without pause. The girl, Claire, was a good example of the people that flooded in on a daily basis.

  "Well here," Robert said. He lifted up a bag. "Erin made this for you."

  "Oh," Penny said, "That was nice of her."

  She awkwardly opened the bag, lifting the box of rice from it. Despite how awkward her relationship was with the other woman, she couldn't help but let out an appreciative sigh at the food.

  "I'll be sure to thank her on your behalf," Robert said. He didn't understand why there was such an uncomfortableness between his lover and his sister. Penny didn't want to tell him that Erin had been the girl who'd wanted to give Sean a letter. A letter that Penny had encouraged Janice to tear up.

  She opened the rice, trying not to think about it. "Right, thanks."

  "I brought you gold too," Robert said, "So you can buy some food for yourself. Though, mother has made me promise to tell you that if you wish to move back home, they'd be more than happy to accommodate."