The Warriors of Valishna (Cartharia Book 1)

by Spencer Reaves McCoy

  All of a sudden, he realized how thirsty he was. He tried to speak but nothing came out.

  "Here," someone dribbled water into his mouth. Eldrin recognized the voice from the day before. This time it didn't sound so razor sharp. He nearly gasped in pleasure from the water when it hit his throat. He'd under appreciated water his entire life. The thought washed over him and he felt a mild sense of frustration. He wanted more.

  "There you go. You're severely dehydrated, but we'll work on that. I don't want to give you too much to drink. You might puke it up, and that'd be the end of you."

  Eldrin licked his lips gently, feeling the deep crevices the lack of water had created, "Why?" The single word caused his pain to flare enough that almost lost conciseness again. He struggled to hold on.

  The woman seem surprised by the question, "I have some questions," she said simply, "and you can't answer in the state you're in."

  The words slammed into Eldrin. He knew he truth now. She was the enemy. He was to be questioned and tortured. He felt his heart leap into his throat. He wasn't sure what torture would be like.l He was frightened, but it was mixed with a weird sense of curiosity. He let himself hover in a state of half-awareness; both sleeping and awake.

  "You're going to have to learn to handle the pain," the woman told him the next time he had any sense of clarity. "If you don't, you're going to die. I don't know how to heal someone. I can't help you if you can't help yourself."

  Eldrin was surprised by the words. He wasn't sure why she'd want to help him. She was only going to bring him back to this state. He ignored her.

  "You need food," the woman said. She spoke in a semi-patient voice that bordered on frustration, "You need nourishment. It's been three days since I found you, and I have no idea how long you were here before that. If you can't handle the pain, you're going to starve to death. Trust me, that's not a fun way to go."

  Since I found you. The words registered somewhere far back in Eldrin's mind. He tried to make sense of them, but it was just outside his level of thought processing. It took too much energy to try and decipher what she was saying. Three days. He groaned and tried to let himself drift back again to the peaceful calm of sleep. It was so much easier there.

  A painful slap awakened him before he'd even dozed off. His head rang and his entire body shuddered with abuse. He screamed.

  "You have to stay awake," the woman said, "You're going to die if you sleep again."

  "I can't," Eldrin started to say.

  "You can," the woman said sharply. This time, the razor blades in her voice were real. He'd made her angry. "You can do whatever you want. I've seen men in worse conditions than this pull themselves back from the brink of death. You just have to want it enough. Or you can die. If you're weak, you can die."

  Eldrin considered for a moment. He was weak. He always had been. He might have told her that if he could summon the courage to speak.

  She sighed in disgust.

  Eldrin watched her pick herself up off the ground where she'd been crouching. He stared in shock. She was a tall woman, with long brown hair. She was dressed in a typical scout's uniform; trousers, a leather tunic, fingerless gloves, tall boots, and a belt full of pouches. That's where she stopped being typical.

  There was a bow on her back, a sword on one hip, and two daggers on the other. She had a third and fourth dagger on her right leg, and a sheathe of arrows on her left. On her belt were small, circular razors. Each one of them had a smooth grip that was no more than three inches wide. She was both deadly and regal.

  She stood straight-backed and stared into the distance, "I'm leaving," she said. The sour note in her voice was all too clear. "I don't have time for this. I don't have time for the weak."

  Eldrin watched her walk away. He glared at her back. That was painful enough, but then he tried to sit up. The pain exploded in him again, and he felt a familiar black haze sneaking over him. It was filling his vision. He thought about she said. If he slept again, he would die.

  He bit his tongue. It wasn't hard enough. He bit again and tasted blood. The world swam in front of him, but he continued to sit up. It was hard, one of the hardest things he'd done in his life. He screamed. The entire time, he screamed.

  Once he was sitting, the pain ebbed a little, "Please," he called out. "Wait." He was surprised by the scratchiness of his own voice. He didn't sound like himself at all. He supposed the screaming had something to do with that.

  The deadly, regal woman turned back towards him, saw him sitting, and smiled. It seemed to light up her entire face. She returned to his side, knelt down, and brushed some of the sticky, sweaty hair from in front of his eyes. It was more than he could have done, and surprisingly gentle.

  "My name is Three."

  It was nearly two weeks before Eldrin could even get on his feet. Moving around was still hard, but he felt some of his control return when he managed to put one foot in front of the other. Three spent all of this time with him. She fed him when he couldn't lift the food himself and poured water into his mouth when drinking felt impossible.

  There were times when Eldrin wished he'd let her go, and let himself die. It was hard to heal. He'd been a Priest at one point, he remembered that much, but he couldn't heal himself.

  He wanted to. He wanted to, but he'd lost his sense of connectivity somewhere along the way. He couldn't find that sense of calm, the center of will power, the crucible of faith; it was just gone. And Eldrin was sure it wasn't coming back. So he had to heal the hard way.

  He begged Three to kill him at some points. Sometimes it seemed as though she might actually do it, but she never followed through. After her original threat, she seemed uninterested in letting him die.

  "How'd you find me?" Eldrin asked once he was able to walk again, nearly a week after he first stood. He strength was low but Three had insisted he start stretching his muscles.

  Three shrugged. She wasn't a woman for small talk. Eldrin was surprised when she answered. "You were off to the side of the road. You were bloody and beaten. You barely looked like a person."

  Eldrin nodded, "The soldiers thought I was dead."

  Her eyes widened and in an instant, she had Eldrin slammed against a tree with a dagger to his throat, "What soldiers?"

  Pain tore through his body and Eldrin wanted nothing more than to open his mouth and scream again, but he knew this was a crucial moment in time. Three was a dangerous woman and she was seconds away from spilling his blood all over the ground. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down enough to answer, "My Charge was attacked, and killed. The entire division I was with. Only a few escaped. I was one of them, but the soldiers found me. There were four, maybe five of them. I don't remember. They thought it would be fun sport to kill me slowly."

  Three ignored his words. She searched his eyes instead and Eldrin felt a curious sort of movement in his head. Then she'd released him and stepped back. Eldrin rubbed his shoulder, annoyed now.

  "I had to make sure you weren't Lamonte."

  "You could have asked," Eldrin said.

  "Right," she said, "We need to rejoin my Brigade."

  "What brigade are you part of?" Eldrin asked. He didn't remember her face from the camp he'd been part of. She'd been with him for weeks on top of that, and had never mentioned her men, or any kind of troops. He started to believe she was someone who'd run away as well.

  Three walked away from him, kneeling before their campfire. She selected a piece of mean from the roasting rabbit and popped it in her mouth. She had been the one hunting and supplying for the both of them while he was injured.

  Once she was done chewing, she looked back at Eldrin, "We're a special operation team."

  "What's that?" He asked, coming to sit beside her.

  Three shook her head and didn't respond. That was something Eldrin had gotten used to too. She only spoke about something when she wanted to. If she didn't, or it wasn't comfortable, she would ignore him.

  Eldrin sighed and swi
tched tactics. "When are we leaving?"

  Considering for a moment, Three shrugged. "Once you're finished eating," she decided. "It'll be easier for you to travel in the evening."

  "Alright," Eldrin said, reaching for a piece of meat. He didn't take a bite just yet, "So should I go with you? To your men?"

  Three glanced at him and nodded, "We can make use of you. If you can learn, that is."

  Eldrin thought about being left out in the woods alone. He'd have to find his way back or find other Arinford troops. He was in Lamonte territory though, and it was a dangerous place to be, especially alone. He'd found that out the hard way, "I can learn," he said.

  "Eat," Three said in a dismissive manner. While she'd helped him recover, she seemed to have very little respect for him.

  Eldrin glared at her and then took a large bit of meat. He chewed slowly and then swallowed. While he ate, she got up and began packing up the camp--if it could be considered that. There was the small cooking spick that Three had set up for meat and the two make-shift blankets that she had made. There were stripped hides that were easily tossed away. The only other thing was a small pack that held a few small things; such as medicine, multiple small weapon replacements, water flasks, and other essentials. This she slung over her back.

  By the time they were ready, evening had descended. It wasn't freezing but the wind blew sharply. Three warned about an incoming storm and urged Eldrin to walk as fast as he could. She pushed him to the extent of what he thought he could give but nothing further.

  "Right there," Three said after they'd walked for several hours. Eldrin felt ready to drop over. He was white and shaking. He followed her gesture but didn't see anything. The more he tried to spot something, the more the world dizzied itself around him. For the first time since he'd asked Three to come back, the black overwhelmed him and Eldrin tasted dirt.

  "Tell me your names," Eldrin said for what felt like the hundredth time since he'd woken in the camp full of strangers. The only one he knew was Three. And that wasn't even a name. He'd been sullen since he'd found out he wouldn't be allowed to leave. Three hadn't told him that. She'd just say they might be able to use him. If he could learn.

  Four sighed. He didn't acknowledge the command, avoiding Eldrin's gaze. They were scraping hides together, a task that was time consuming but simple enough. The weather was chillier than it should have and one of the men in the camp continued to say that a storm as expected. It didn't make since but they were preparing anyway.

  "Okay," Eldrin said, trying a different approach. "Just tell me your name. What do you say?"

  Four pushed a piece of hair away from his eyes and sighed at Eldrin, "You know my name. It's Four. It comes after Three. It's not hard to remember."

  "That's not a name," Eldrin said with a roll of his eyes, "That's a number. There's a difference, you know."

  "It's the essence of the matter," Four said with a frown. "It's the name I'm using while I"m here. I rather like it. You know. Eventually you'll get a number too. If you stay with us."

  Eldrin snorted. "As though I have a choice. I have a name though. It's Eldrin. Sheldon Eldrin. Go on, try it out. See how it sounds. Remember what it's like to be a person."

  Four's pale face flooded with color and he looked up at Eldrin, his eyes narrowed. For the first time, Eldrin heard him speak in s sharp tone. He wasn't loud but the words seemed to reverberate around the small table they were working on. "Stop it. This is how things are done."

  Eldrin stuck the hide with his knife and ripped off some hair. He didn't acknowledge the look Four was giving him, or the sharp tone. He could feel himself feeling sorry for his outburst and he didn't want to feel sorry. He wanted to be angry and sarcastic. "Who said I wanted to stay here anyway? You lot won't let me leave. It's practically torture in itself."

  "You saw our camp," Four said, "You've heard a lot about us. That's how it works. You know, if you stopped trying to act so injured all the time, you might just make a few friends here. We're good people."

  Eldrin shrugged. "I don't want friends," he said, "I want to know the people that are working with me. Their names. Things about them. Besides, you can't say that every time someone steps into your camp, they're recruited."

  Four shook his head. His voice lowered and he focused on scraping the hide in front of him again. "No," he agreed, "We kill them, usually."

  "Right," Eldrin said, "Lamonte soldiers. They make bad recruits."

  "No," Four said, "We don't take chances, Eldrin. If any soldier stumbles upon us--well, we don't take chances. If they've seen a little that's alright. If they've seen a lot, we do what has to be done."

  "You kill innocent people," Eldrin said, "Arinford men. Men fighting for our cause?"

  Four met his gaze, his voice lacking any sort of defense, "You have to understand that some things are more important an individual's life. Some things are worth killing over. Even innocent men."

  "Like what?" Eldrin asked.

  Four sighed. He put down his knife and turned to look at Eldrin, "We've spent a long time training," he said, "We were especially chosen for this task force because of our ability to learn. We can stop manipulation. Go in, shut off the persons' ability to use it. Protect ourselves from any type."

  Eldrin frowned.

  "Sullivan and his commanders go into their minds," Four explained, "and they learn to manipulate the way people view him. It's about playing off their faith and twisting it to use against them. He doesn't create false memories or anything, but he can change the way you look at him. Make his intentions seem nobler somehow."

  "That's how he keeps gaining support," Eldrin said with a low whistle.

  Four nodded, "And he takes our Priests. It's an attempt to undermine Arinford's morale. And it works, Eldrin. When people hear about it--well, they lose any sort of hope they might have had."

  "Our mission," Four said, "is to take out Sullivan and his top commanders. We've been trained to infiltrate their minds and render them incapable of protection."

  "So you're an assassination team," Eldrin said with a thoughtful expression.

  "I prefer to think of us as a special ops team," Four said, "I don't like the idea that we're cold-hearted assassins. We're good men and women here, and we just want the same things you want. We want to stop Lamonte."

  Eldrin thought for a moment. He was no longer sure that was his main goal at all, but he didn't want to say as much out loud. He thought it would sound rather selfish to admit his only goal was to get home.

  "So you see," Four said, "We can't let them know we're coming. They might come up with a way to protect themselves against us. That's why we have to stop everyone that comes into the camp. They have to join us, or they have to die. If word gets out about our plan, it'll have been for nothing."

  "I guess," Eldrin said, "But I keep thinking about my friend, Matilyn. She'd have hated this. She'd have hated me for agreeing with it."

  "Matilyn?" Four asked. He raised his eyebrows. "Isn't that the woman that led the Charge that took back Teirford? She's become a legend in her own right already."

  Eldrin felt that old, familiar sensation swoop through him. He forced a small and nodded, "Yeah, she is. I was part of that charge before you guys found me."

  "See," Four said, "Your charge got to get away with things like that. They get to be well known, and well liked. We're the men who have to swoop in silently with no recognition or support. Nobody knows us. Nobody mourns us when we die. We've stopped dozens of Sullivan's commanders already and then we just move on."

  Eldrin felt himself blushing again. He hadn't thought of the team that way. He cleared his throat in awkward fashion and asked,"Who here doesn't belong? I mean--wasn't part of your original group?"

  "Just you and Six," Four returned to his work. "She was a soldier when we found her. Lamonte."

  Eldrin looked shocked. "She was? What? You let a Lamonte soldier join you guys?"

  Four nodded, "Her entire family was killed by Lamonte. You
don't understand what it was like here. They kill citizens who refuse to join the army. Or their families. It's a way of inspiring fear. Sullivan has their heads painted black and hung out for weeks or months. That's what they did with her family."

  Eldrin sat there, stunned. The idea was disturbing. He tried to imagine what that must have been like for her. He couldn't imagine seeing his family's heads up high on a wall, rotting away.

  "She was part of a teenage unit that formed," Four went on, "There were several dozen of them. Kids that didn't have a choice but to fight. They were terrified and under-trained. Most of them would have died. Most of them did die. But then they were given the choice to go to Arinford, defect."

  "She didn't go. I don't know why," Four continued to explain, not giving Eldrin a chance to ask questions, "She never said. Part of me thinks maybe it was guilt. Those soldiers were forced to do terrible things. Attack their own men. But she didn't go. We found her, and we let her join us."

  "How old is she?" Eldrin asked, his voice quiet.

  "Fourteen," Four said, "Maybe fifteen. I don't know."

  Eldrin winced. He'd known she was young, but he hadn't realized she was that young. She acted so much older than her age. "You should have made her go to Arinford. She shouldn't be fighting. She shouldn't be part of this."

  Four shook his head, "That's not the way the world works anymore. You think she asked to part of the Lamonte army? No. No, but she was. She has a right to make up for that. Look, she was just a kid being used. But now she has a chance to redeem herself."

  Eldrin nodded, but couldn't bring himself to fully agree. By the look on Four's face, he didn't think the other man fully agreed either. But he let it go. "So the rest of you started together?"

  Four nodded. "We didn't know each other though. One recruited us. He set up this meeting for everyone he thought might be interested, handpicked with the Warlord's approval, and when we showed up, he wouldn't let us give our names. The people that ended up staying after he explained what we'd be doing became part of the brigade."

  "The rest of the people?" Eldrin asked, "Did they get to leave?"