Revolution (Cartharia Book 2)

by Spencer Reaves McCoy

  "Why are we even here?" Penny asked. "Don't you usually send your servants for what you need?"

  "I'm not after anything," Robert said.

  "Then why are we here?" Penny repeated. She stared at Robert, confused. He simply smiled at her and went further into the city.

  They stopped outside a tall building with double glass doors. One of the doors had been shattered and nobody had been by to pick up the glass. Robert stepped around it, opening the door.

  "Isn't this the old ink shop?" Penny asked as they stepped inside. She glanced around at the various quills, parchments, and inks that lined the walls. The front counter had a fine layer of dust on it. "This is where I got Matilyn that quill for her birthday..."

  Robert didn't seem to be paying any attention to her. He stepped past the counter to the door that led to the back. Before he could open it, Penny stepped up, putting a hand on his arm.

  "Why are we here?" she asked again.

  "There are people in the city that need your help," Robert said. When he saw her expression, he shook his head fervently. "I know you don't want to help anymore," Robert said, "But this is what you came back to Valishna for. You came back to the city to help the citizens who didn't make it out. They need you."

  "Robert," Penny said sharply, "You can't force me to help people. You can't."

  "You used to do so much good," Robert said, "Before the attacks and after, when we came back here. I know that Kenneth's death upset you, and I know you're heartbroken over Matilyn, but it's not an excuse."

  "I'm not trying to use it as an excuse--" Penny started to say.

  "But you are," Robert said, "You're scared, I get that, but everyone is scared these days."

  Penny shook her head, "I'm not scared," she said, "I just don't want to do it anymore. It doesn't do any good. The soldiers, they'll still hurt people. They'll still kill them. All I was doing was trying to pretend reality didn't exist."

  "You did help," Robert said. "You have to believe that."

  "How can I?" Penny demanded. She let go of his arm and shook her head, "How can I, Robert? Everyone is dead or on their way to being dead."

  "Not the people in here," Robert said, "They aren't dead but they might be. Without help, they might be, Penny. Please. Just this once."

  Penny sighed. "Alright."

  Robert gave her a quick smile and then opened the door.

  Inside the room were half a dozen people. They were dirty, and the place smelled of old must. Everyone looked terrified.

  "Robert," one of the men said, "What are you doing here? Who's with you? Nobody's supposed to know about this place."

  "I know," Robert said, "But Kyle, this is my sister, Pen. She's a Priest, and she's here to help."

  Kyle glanced over at Penny, "Is that true?"

  "Yes," Penny said. She swallowed, trying not to look around too much. The entire place was filthy.

  Kyle stepped back and put his hand on a boy's shoulder. He looked about thirteen. "My son broke his arm," he said, "jumping out a window. It's got a pretty good gash on it too."

  "What's your name?" Penny asked, approaching the boy in question. He looked frightened. "I'm not going to hurt you."

  "I'm Mikael," he said.

  "Well, Mikael, let me see what you've done," Penny said. The boy held out his arm. It was wrapped in stained bandages. She took her time peeling them off, not wanting to hurt Mikael anymore than necessary.

  Underneath the bandages was a long, deep cut. She examined it for a moment and then looked at the arm as a whole. "There's definitely a break," she murmured. "Why were you climbing out a window?"

  Mikael looked back at his father, who shook his head slightly.

  "I wasn't doing anything wrong," he said to Penny. "I just had to get something and the door was blocked."

  Penny sighed. She could only imagine what the boy had been getting into when he'd obtained the injury.

  She worked on the wound on his arm first. It took an extreme amount of focus for her to find her Chakran. When she did, she extended her energy outwards, willing the flesh back together. It was a slow, painful process, but to the boy's credit, he didn't scream.

  "You're going to want to keep it wrapped anyway," Penny said, "but it should be mostly healed by now. I didn't sense infection either."

  "Thank you," Mikael said.

  "I'm not done yet," Penny said, "The worst has yet to come. How long ago did you do this?"

  Mikael considered, "Three days ago."

  "You should have seen someone sooner," Penny said.

  She saw the looks the other people exchanged. She could have kicked herself. Of course he hadn't seen anyone -- there was nobody to see.

  "At any rate, the bone has started to set wrong," Penny said. "I'm going to have to re-break it."

  The color on the boy's face drained away.

  "It's going to be alright," Penny said. She felt around at the breaking point and drew her in courage. It had been a long time since she'd done this. "One... two..."

  Instead of waiting for three, she quickly snapped the bone. He let out a howl of pain and yanked his arm back. Before he could move it too far away, Penny grabbed his shoulder.

  "I need to finish," she said. Mikael nodded, but she could see tears running down his face. She once again began manipulating his arm, this time focusing on the break. The bone began to mend back together.

  "It hurts," he said.

  "I know," Penny said, "and it's going to hurt for a while. You shouldn't use it at full strength for at least a few days. Give the bone time to solidify. Think you can do that?"

  Mikael nodded.

  "He'll be careful with it," Kyle, his father, promised.

  "Is there anyone else here with wounds?" Penny asked. Several people stepped forward. She sighed. It was going to be a long day.

  Despite Robert's arguments against it, Penny ended up staying quite later than he had, and thus walked herself home.

  It was different, heading back by herself. There were far more calls for her, of a much more inappropriate manner. Several times, she caught herself blushing a bright red. She didn't know if it was from embarrassment, disgust, or both.

  Dusk had set, offering beautiful hues and a cooler temperature but Penny could hardly enjoy it. She hurried her steps, hoping not to get stopped.

  "Excuse me."

  She whirled around, expecting to see one of the Lamonte soldiers. She was not disappointed. One of the men stationed in Valishna was standing there, eyeing her. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw who it was.

  Peter Sterling offered her a smile, "Lady Arris," he said, sounding sincere in his earnest. "It's been months," he chided, "I was beginning to think we'd never see you outside of your manor."

  "Well," Penny said, a bit coldly, "it's been hard to walk the streets with people calling me a traitor."

  Peter shook his head, looking slightly stung, "The city knows you're not a traitor, Lady Arris. It was unfortunate about your husband but we know that one's sins do not decide another's. You shouldn't be out alone. May I escort you back to your estate?"

  Penny nodded. She didn't particularly want the company but it would be rude to refuse the commander of the Lamonte military stationed in Valishna. Besides, she'd rather have his company than that of his men.

  There had been a time, before the beheading of her husband probably, that Penny had actually enjoyed the company of Peter Sterling. Unlike the others in Valishna, he was not a guard that used his position of power to intimidate or harm others.

  In fact, he often had brought her injured civilians to heal and take care of. It had been a truce of some sort. He was from Lamonte, he supported King Sullivan, but he was a good man in his own ways.

  "How have you been since the incident?" Peter asked quietly, after they'd begun nearing the manor.

  "I've been better," Penny admitted. She was quiet for a moment and then asked, "Commander Sterling, do you often get news of the war?"

  "I do," Peter s
aid. He looked at her. "It's not near an end, if that's what you're wondering. It's unfortunate but it seems as though it will draw out another year at the least."

  Penny nodded. "I've heard as much from the soldiers around the city." It wasn't true, of course. She'd kept herself secluded and had hardly heard any news that didn't come from Robert. She didn't want Peter to know she was out of the loop, though. "I had a different question, actually."

  Peter frowned at her, "You know we're not allowed to give classified information to the public," he told her, "Some of the things we know could cause panic and harm."

  "I know," Penny said, "I know that, Commander. I have no plans to ask about any of your strategies or news. I only wanted to know. Do you know if there have been any recent reports of the dead? There was a post in Lamonte, of Arinford men. Nobody seems to know what happened to them."

  Penny wouldn't have dared to ask any of the other Lamonte soldiers such a question. She knew there was little patience for questions about Arinford. Most of the troops seemed to have forgotten that many of the Valishna citizens had family or friends fighting in the Arinford Guard.

  Or they might not have forgotten. She was sure the most of them wouldn't care. In fact, they might relish the thought. Any families that had been left alive in Valishna (or returned, in her case) had been forced to swear fealty to Lamonte and the Black King.

  "They're gone," Peter said, "I don't know what happened to them any more than you do, Lady Arris. Our commanders on the field don't always share what they know with me."

  Penny felt a surge of disappointment. She didn't want to find out they were dead but it was better than this constant wondering.

  "Thank you, Commander."

  Peter leaned in, giving her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek, "Stay safe, Lady Arris. Perhaps I'll call on you later this week for tea."

  "You do that," Penny said. She watched Peter turn and walk away before heading inside herself. Thomas was waiting with a meal prepared for her. She told him about Mikael and the others that needed help.

  Before she slept, she thought about what Peter had said. Thinking of Matilyn, she fell asleep with tears on here pillow.

  FIVE

  My Daughter and Your Honor

  "SIT DOWN," SULLIVAN REQUESTED.

  MATILYN AND SAMUEL both took seats across from him. Neither spoke. Matilyn had awoken early that morning by a servant who'd insisted that the King needed to see her right away. Apparently Samuel had the same wake up call.

  "The two of you are commanders in my military," Sullivan began. He looked at Samuel, "You've been with me since the start. I do not doubt your loyalty."

  Samuel bowed his head, "Thank you, Your Majesty."

  Sullivan merely nodded. He looked at Matilyn, "And I do not doubt yours either, Matilyn. You have shown yourself to be fully supportive of my vision. I could ask nothing less."

  Matilyn let out a relieved sigh, "I appreciate that, Your Majesty."

  "However," Sullivan said, "I sense an animosity between the two of you. Samuel, you brought Matilyn here when she realized the futility of following Arinford commands. You clearly found her to be an adept officer, and trusted her enough to allow her into our inner most circles."

  Samuel glanced briefly at Matilyn, "Yes sir."

  "Then what is the problem?" Sullivan asked.

  Matilyn said, "I have no problem with Commander Frien, sir."

  Sullivan gave Matilyn a sharp look, "Be careful," he warned, "I do not tolerate lies within my presence. I have asked a question. I expect it honestly answered."

  Neither of them spoke for a moment.

  Sullivan sighed, "Samuel?"

  Samuel shifted uncomfortably. Eventually, he sighed, "My cousin," he said, "I found out shortly after bringing Commander Malevus to the capitol that she was involved in the raid that took his life."

  Matilyn glanced at him, surprised. "Your cousin?" she said blankly.

  "My cousin," Samuel repeated, "Rikkard Frien. He was like a brother to me. You led an attack on a castle he was stationed in. He died."

  "I didn't know," Matilyn said.

  "Yet, it was you who orchestrated the raid," Samuel said, "You led the men. You caused his death."

  "I was an Arinford soldier at the time," Matilyn said, "You couldn't have expected me to do less."

  "I'm far too aware of where your allegiance lied," Samuel said bitingly. He and Matilyn glared at each other.

  Sullivan let out a sigh, "And you, Matilyn? Do you have a valid reason to hold a grudge against Samuel?"

  Matilyn frowned, "Only that he continues to insinuate that I'm still supporting Arinford. I defected over half a year ago, and I'm tired of having my loyalty questioned."

  Sullivan looked between the two, "I will not accept this," he said, "I have reasons for trusting both of you. I will not have two of my respected commanders at ends with each other. I will tell you this once: you will set aside your issues and learn to work together. Is that understood?"

  Matilyn felt as though she were a child being chastised. She bowed her head. "Yes, Your Majesty."

  Samuel looked as though he wanted to spit fire. He stared at Sullivan's desk.

  "Samuel," Sullivan said.

  Samuel looked up, "I will try," he finally said.

  "Good," Sullivan said. "Because you two are going to do something for me. Something I can only trust my closest officers with."

  Matilyn and Samuel both straightened.

  "As you might have surmised, Lamonte is not well off financially," Sullivan said.

  Matilyn furrowed her brow but didn't speak. Everyone knew of Lamonte's poverty levels. Many of their soldiers went to war without proper equipment or weapons. The villages were particularly poor -- Matilyn remembered raiding one once for food. One of the citizens had begged her to leave them and their food alone.

  She hadn't, of course. Her men had needed the supplies. She'd felt terrible about it, though. She hadn't slept for several nights afterwards: she kept seeing the faces of the children pressed to the windows, watching.

  "Six months ago, Terifille agreed to become our allies," Sullivan said. "They've suffered their own losses but their coffers did not suffer. They agreed to open them to us, so that we might continue the war against Arinford."

  This, Matilyn hadn't known. She blinked. Samuel looked surprised too.

  "We have also agreed that it would be best if our kingdoms were allied in a more traditional sense," Sullivan said. "This, of course, means that my daughter shall wed their son, who is only one year her senior."

  Matilyn and Samuel both nodded. They both knew that arranged marriages had often connected kingdoms in times of war.

  "I cannot leave the kingdom again," Sullivan said, "The war is particularly strenuous at the moment. I'm sure you've both heard of the problems we have taking the Arinford shore?"

  "Yes sir," Samuel said, "If you would let me lead a division of men, I'm positive that I can take it back."

  "You are undeniably a fierce soldier," Sullivan said, "I won't forget you were the one to capture and bring me the young Arinford prince."

  Samuel nodded.

  Matilyn glanced at him. She'd known the prince was a captive of the king's, but she hadn't realized it was Samuel who'd found him. She thought of Rafinnel and how he'd commanded her to find the prince. She wondered if he knew she was fighting for Lamonte.

  "Yet," Sullivan said, "The shore is a problem I must entrust to another of my gifted commanders. I need you on a far more precious mission."

  Samuel raised his eyebrows.

  "I am entrusting the two of you with my daughter," Sullivan said, "You will take Princess Catherine to Terifille where she will marry the prince."

  Matilyn couldn't contain her astonishment, "Your daughter?"

  "My daughter," Sullivan said.

  "Surely there are men more suited for such a mission," Samuel said, "It is a great honor, of course, but I feel as though my talents are far more suited for the battlefield th
an taking a teenager to get married."

  "As are mine," Matilyn added.

  "Be that as it may," Sullivan said, "I have already reached my decision on the matter. The two of you will learn to fight alongside one another while you are performing this task for me. You will take Catherine to Terifille, and you will bear witness to her marriage."

  "As you wish," Samuel said. Matilyn could hear the frustration in his tone. She knew how he felt. She didn't really feel like it was the best job for her either.

  She sighed. Sullivan's orders were law. "Yes sir," she said.

  "I expect a thorough report when you return," Sullivan said, "While you are there, you will keep your eyes and ears open. I want to know what's happening in their court. It could become important should they try to go back on their word. I want a detailed account of their military prowess."

  "Yes sir," Samuel and Matilyn said together.

  "You will see the warlord about the preparations," Sullivan said, "You will need to leave at once."

  Catherine Sullivan stared out at the men and women gathered before her. She focused on them rather than the angry pit within her stomach.

  Some of them were her father's personal guards, some of them were pardoned criminals, and some were simply people brought in from the city. They all had one thing that connected them: they'd been handpicked by Catherine to serve her in court.

  Her father knew nothing about it, of course. He would have put an end to it immediately if he had. That was part of the reason that Catherine had found these people. She needed her own protection. More than that, she needed her own force.

  She called them her Left Hand. They were the people who carried out her orders in the castle, secretly aiding her wherever she needed it. She'd begun recruiting them months earlier when her father passed a decree that the guards were not to listen to her commands.

  These men were loyal to her.

  Of course, she was about to test their loyalty.

  "My father," she said, speaking in a low, soft tone, "has decided that I am of marrying age. He is sending me to Terifille to fulfill the betrothal he made several months ago. I will remain in Terifille court for some time."