Revolution (Cartharia Book 2)

by Spencer Reaves McCoy

  "And again, I ask, what will be done with me with my refusal to answer your questions?" Aaron asked.

  Matilyn and Samuel exchanged a look.

  "Commander Malevus, can we speak in private for a moment?" Samuel asked. "In the hall, perhaps?"

  Matilyn gave a grateful nod and rose to her feet. She followed Samuel out of the room.

  "Now what?" Matilyn asked.

  "We can't arrest him," Samuel said, "King Sanders would never permit it. His coin backs half the court."

  Matilyn sighed, "I thought as much."

  "Do you believe he's guilty?" Samuel asked.

  "No," Matilyn said immediately, 'Though you already know where my suspicions lie."

  Samuel nodded. "I'm inclined to agree with them. I don't like releasing him though. I find his attitude highly disrespectful. King Sullivan would never allow someone such freedom simply because of their wealth."

  "No," she agreed, "but we're not home, Samuel. We have no choice but to let him go."

  Samuel nodded. "I think we should keep our eye on him, though."

  "You also don't believe he's guilty though," Matilyn said.

  "I don't," Samuel agreed, "but he's up to something. Even if it's unrelated, I want to know what it is."

  "We don't have the time to play investigator in the Terifille court," Matilyn pointed out. "We hardly have time to investigate Catherine's attack."

  Samuel shrugged, "I know," he said, "and yet, I can't quell my curiosity. If you have no wish to be part of my investigation on the man, I'll understand. But I think it's important."

  "Unrelated but important," Matilyn said.

  "Yes," Samuel said.

  "Alright," Matilyn said, "I'll help."

  Samuel gave her a large grin and then headed back inside. "You're free to go, Lord Swin."

  Aaron lifted an eyebrow, clearly caught off-guard. "I am?"

  "Yes," Matilyn said, "Thank you for your time."

  Aaron stood, "I apologize for being unable to answer your questions," he said, "I understand that I've made your lives all that more difficult. If it is any consolation, I did not have any part in the attack. Continuing your investigation on my family would be a waste of your valuable time and resources."

  Matilyn held the door open, "Goodbye, Lord Swin."

  Catherine glanced at the small group gathered around her. Despite Matilyn and Samuel's original insistence that they be the ones to guard her, both had disappeared this afternoon to question the well-known Lord Swin.

  She had taken this opportunity to start gathering the loyal forces she'd been speaking to within the castle.

  Oliver was with them, of course. He sat uneasily in the chair next to her bed, looking a little forlorn and out of place.

  "Thank you all for coming," Catherine said in a gentle, warm voice. "I appreciate that you all took time out of your schedules to meet with me. I know you're all very busy people."

  A few of them nodded, and others smiled at her.

  "It's not a problem, Princess," one woman said, "We're glad to be of service to you. And to Prince Oliver, of course."

  Catherine resisted the urge to let her smile turn to a frown. She hated when people interrupted her, even with such kind words. These people would have to be trained. Suddenly, she was homesick for her Left Hand in Lamonte. They already knew all of the things she hated.

  Still, she recognized the opportunity that being sent away had provided her. It had taken some time for her to open her eyes to it, but she was definitely glad she had. Her father would not be so pleased.

  This thought allowed her to maintain her smile. "You're all here because you've expressed to me personally that your loyalty does not belong to the king, but rather with your future rulers, myself and Oliver."

  This time, there was a bit of uneasiness in the gazes as people glanced at their neighbors, warily.

  "Do not worry," Catherine said, "You do not have to concern yourselves about the people here. I trust each and every one of you implicitly. I know none of you would betray my confidence."

  "In fact," she continued, "That's one of the reasons I asked you here today. I have asked for your loyalty and I thought it only fair that Oliver and I should inform you of the plans we have for taking our place as the rightful rulers of Terifille."

  Oliver looked up suddenly, nervous. Catherine reached out and took his hand. She gave it a comforting squeeze, "Calm yourself, dearest," she murmured, "These people are ours."

  They weren't, of course. They were hers. She could share for the moment, though. She wasn't that greedy.

  "What are your plans then?" a man asked.

  Catherine considered how to proceed, "Soon, Oliver and I will be married, as is our fate. We were destined to be together and our fathers worked to make this a reality."

  One of them asked, "How will this ensure your rule, though?"

  "Once we are married, our kingdoms are forever united," Catherine said, "I will take my place as the queen of Terifille and Oliver will take his place as the King of Lamonte."

  The same person said, "You will be the princess and prince of each respective kingdom."

  "To begin with," Catherine said. She looked out at their faces and braced herself. She had selected them carefully but that didn't mean she couldn't have made a mistake. She was human, after all. She wasn't perfect.

  Still, she trusted her instincts. Just as she'd shared her plans with her Left Hand back home, she would share it with her Left Hand in Terifille. She let out a long breath, "To begin with," she repeated, "but it will not remain that way for long. The King will not survive long after our wedding."

  There were glances exchanged but no gasps of surprise. Catherine felt relieved.

  Oliver gripped her hand tighter.

  "My father will not survive long after either," Catherine said, "We have plans in the works to make sure that we will soon take our appropriate places. It is a great crime to the Gods to kill, yet in some places, it is necessary. Cartharia cannot be complete without our rule. Surely, that is the most important."

  There was a ripple of murmured agreement from the gathered group and several people nodded their heads.

  "You will serve as our Left Hand," she told them, "You will not have glory, but you will have whatever else you wish. You will be well rewarded for your service and loyalty to myself and to Oliver. Is that understood?"

  There were more nods.

  "That won't do," Catherine said, "When I ask a question, I want a respectful answer. That is the first thing you must learn. You need not bow to another person in your life, but you will show proper respect to me. Now, is that understood?"

  "Yes, Princess Catherine," came the reply. It was a bit fragmented, not at all united like it soon would be, but nonetheless, she felt pleased. They were on the right track.

  "For today, I want you to go home," Catherine said, "and prepare yourselves. The moment is soon."

  Matilyn cornered Prince Oliver as he left Catherine's chambers. "Good afternoon, Prince Oliver."

  Oliver turned quickly, saw who it was, and offered an uneasy smile, "Commander Malevus, do what do I owe the pleasure?"

  "I was hoping we might speak," Matilyn said, "It's been some time since we've had the opportunity."

  "I'm quite busy," Oliver said.

  "Yet, you spend so much time in with Princess Catherine. Naturally, of course, as she is your betrothed. Still, I imagine you can spare a few minutes to speak about the investigation regarding her injuries. You do want the case solved, correct?" Matilyn tilted her head.

  Oliver looked ill. It wasn't overt, but it was there. She had many years tending to the sick, and she saw tell-tale signs. His color was poor, and his eyes bloodshot. He had purple rings beneath his eyes that hinted at a lack of sleep.

  "O-of course," Oliver stammered. When Matilyn gestured to an empty room, he followed her in. "Though I'm not sure how I can be of any aide."

  Matilyn looked him over. He was young still, only a little old
er than Catherine, but she remembered what Ra'sha had said; he was younger in the ways that counted. She wondered what tales the princess had been whispering in his ear when they were alone.

  "There is something we've kept from the public," Matilyn said, "Something about the person who attacked Princess Catherine."

  Oliver sat up straighter, eyes widening just a little. Matilyn made note of this reaction. Her and Samuel had discussed the prince the night before, long into the night. In the end, they decided it was necessary to question him. Before something else happened.

  "What's that?" he asked.

  "The man who attacked the princess wore a red cloak," Matilyn said.

  Oliver visibly started and then shook his head, "There are many people in the kingdom who wear a red cloak," he said in a soft voice.

  "There are," Matilyn agreed, "I was wondering -- do you know anyone in the castle that owns one? It comes nearly to the floor and has the most intricate details on the hem."

  "No," Oliver said quickly.

  "Where were you the night Princess Catherine was attacked?" Matilyn asked.

  "I was in my chambers!" Oliver blurted out, "I was sleeping, for the love of the gods. What do you think? You think I did it?"

  Matilyn leaned forward. "Prince Oliver, I want you to think carefully about the things that Princess Catherine has told you. If she's promised you something... if you're planning something together... it's not too late to back out."

  Oliver looked as though he were on the verge of speaking, and Matilyn's heart began to beat faster. His reaction all but confirmed her fears. She was both dismayed and somehow relieved. Ra'sha's family would be in the clear.

  Then he sat back, and shook his head, "I've done nothing wrong," he murmured.

  "Are you certain about that?" Matilyn asked, "I've known Princess Catherine for little more than a year, and I know that she's not a woman you want to trust, Oliver. She has her own interests in mind, always. You don't want to rely on her."

  Oliver's eyes narrowed, "That is my betrothed you are speaking of, and your ward. How dare you say such things? Catherine is a lovely woman, just lovely, and she's going to make a wonderful wife."

  Matilyn sighed. She had pushed the envelope too far when she'd insulted Catherine, but she didn't know what else to say. She wanted Oliver to see the truth before it was too late and she feared that day was fast approaching.

  She and Samuel had also discussed going to the king with the information they had, but neither of them looked forward to accusing the king's son of treason. On top of that, both of them had concerns that pointing the finger at Catherine could jeopardize the alliance between the two kingdoms. They had to be one hundred percent sure first.

  "Do you have other questions?" Oliver said stiffly.

  "No," Matilyn said, "But I urge you to come to me -- or Commander Frien -- if you discover you have new information that might prove vital to our investigations. We would work hard to protect you as an anonymous source. Nobody ever need know you came forward."

  Oliver trembled, opening his mouth again. Then he closed it and stood. He gave Matilyn one long look and then swept from the room.

  Matilyn sighed.

  Samuel stepped out of the small bathroom he'd been standing in. "That went nowhere," he said.

  "I know," Matilyn said. "Catherine has him wrapped around her little finger."

  "Of course she does," Samuel said, "She's young, she's beautiful, she's intelligent. It's easy for women like that to win over those who are less than confident. She makes him feel important."

  Matilyn nodded. "What are we going to do? If Catherine really asked him to hurt her, there must be something else they're planning. Something more. We can't afford for Catherine to risk this alliance. What if they do something else?"

  "What else could they do?" Samuel said, "They're two teenage children. Catherine might be manipulative, but she's still only a child."

  "She was only a child in Lamonte when she ordered that girl put to death," Matilyn pointed out.

  Samuel sighed, "I know. But there, people listened to her. The guards were all terrified of her. She doesn't have her reputation here. She's just the visiting princess from another kingdom. They're not going to risk anything by helping her."

  "I hope you're right," Matilyn said. "Most likely, she just wanted to delay the wedding. But why? To what purpose?"

  "I don't know," Samuel said.

  "It doesn't make any sense, unless they're planning something else," Matilyn said, "Something they want to shift suspicion off themselves for."

  Samuel went rigid, "You think they're planning on killing the king."

  Matilyn hesitated. Was that what she thought? Slowly, she nodded.

  "Fuck," Samuel said. "Fuck. Goddamned Catherine Sullivan. Why couldn't she be more like her father? This is going to hell, Malevus."

  "I know," Matilyn said.

  "What are we going to do?" Samuel asked. "We can't allow that to happen."

  Matilyn shook her head, "I don't know," she admitted, "Accusing them too early could ruin the only advantage we have -- that we know what they're planning."

  "We might have already ruined that by speaking to Oliver," Samuel pointed out.

  "I don't think so," Matilyn said, "I think he knows we suspect him, but I don't think he knows that we've figured out what they're planning."

  "They can't be acting alone," Samuel said, "There must be people here helping them. We need to figure out who they are. What we need is someone who can win over their confidence, make them think they're on the same side."

  Matilyn considered for a long moment. "I think I know just the person."

  Ra'sha Swin opened her door and was surprised to see Matilyn standing there. She tilted her head, "Commander Malevus. What a pleasant surprise."

  "Miss Swin," Matilyn greeted. "Can I come in? I wanted to speak to you about something."

  Matilyn looked nervous. Ra'sha tilted her head, trying to figure out why. The last time the commander had come to her home, she'd admitted a lot more than she'd wanted to about the princess of Lamonte. Perhaps she was regretting that decision now.

  "Please," Ra'sha said. She opened the door a little wider and stepped out of the way. Matilyn stepped inside and Ra'sha closed the door.

  "We can go to my study," Ra'sha suggested. "Unless you'd like a refreshment? I can ask the servants to get something... wine, perhaps... or coffee?"

  Matilyn shook her head, "That won't be necessary," she said.

  "As you wish," Ra'sha said. She could hardly contain herself. She wanted to start questioning the woman immediately. She, too, wanted to know why it was that the princess would stage an attack on her own self.

  It took only a few minutes to reach Ra'sha's study. She opened the door to expose a wide, spacious room. There were several comfortable looking couches, a large desk, several chairs, some shelving containing scrolls, specific books, ink, quills, and a variety of other odds and ins. She'd decorated the study with large maps of Cartharia. Some showed the entire world, as explorers knew it anyway, and some showed close up images of mountain ranges and seas.