Revolution (Cartharia Book 2)
Page 54
"That was your memory, not a dream. You dreamt that when you were but a baby," Lieiki said softly, "you see the danger. You remember it. You must help us."
"How?" Will asked. He felt sick to his stomach.
"Come with me," LIeiki said, "Come with me, to Skavadi, and we will help you."
Will hesitated. Some dim part of his mind told him it could be a trap. This could all be fake, a trap laid by Sullivan's men.
Instead of listening to that part of his mind, he took Lieiki's hand. Somehow, it felt right, "Where are we going?"
Lieiki led him through the forest. She didn't take any path that Will could see but she seemed to know exactly where she was going.
Less than ten minutes later, Lieiki paused. "We're here," she whispered to him. She reached forward, moving brush out of their way and then pulling him through a small opening in the trees.
"I've gone crazy," Will said, looking around. They were no longer in the forest. They were on a long path leading up to a city that rivaled the size of Valishna. The entire place seemed to emit the same dim glow as the woman to his left.
"No, Lieiki said, laughing again, "You've come home."
FIFTY-FIVE
Where Will Thou Lead Me
DEYNETH DELANU SAT UP IN HER BED, suddenly, her eyes wide. Will was alive. She had dreamt it. But this was different than a dream. He'd been sending her a message. He'd been trying to warn her. It had something to do with the war but it seemed like he wasn't talking about the one with Lamonte.
There was one thing for sure, though. He was terrified. He was terrified, and he was alive.
"You heard what happened?" Rafinnel asked Stini. They were sitting together outside one of the large tents, both with a cup of lukewarm coffee in hand. It had been hot when it had been poured, but the silence had lasted a long time.
"Sullivan is dead," Stini said.
Rafinnel nodded. They were both silent again. The announcement had been cause for a lot of celebration the night before but now it was morning, and now they had things to talk about, things to consider.
"Is it over?" Stini finally asked. He looked up at Rafinnel and was aware of the stammer he heard in his voice. He was aware how desperate he sounded.
Rafinnel met his gaze. They weren't close, but they were a lot closer than they had been. It if had been a different situation, Stini might have even considered them to be friends. "No."
Stini took a drink of his coffee.
"There's been no announcement yet," Rafinnel said, "No orders, but it's not over, Commander. I hate to say it, but I think this is where it finally begins."
"What do you mean?" Stini asked.
Rafinnel leaned forward, "I dreamt," he said in a low, musing voice, "I dreamt, Commander, about the Prince. And I don't think it was a prophecy."
Stini frowned.
"I think that he sent me the dream," Rafinnel admitted. The words seemed almost strained, and Stini considered how much it must be costing Rafinnel to tell him of this. Rafinnel was not a man of fancy, and this wasn't something solid, that he could see or touch.
"Alright," Stini said, "So he sent you a dream."
Rafinnel nodded, "I believe that he did. And in the dream, he told me the war wasn't over. He told me that when Sullivan died, another war would begin, the same war, led by a different leader. This leader would be worse."
"Who could be worse than Sullivan?" Stini asked. His brow furrowed and he leaned forward, "He was the Black King."
Rafinnel was silent for a long time before whispering, "His daughter. Catherine."
And then they talked.
Stini walked through the camp later that day, thoughtful. He was thinking about his family. His wife and his children. He was thinking about Rose, and the way that she'd died in his arms. He was thinking about every man and woman that he'd met that had ended up in the ground somewhere. Shallow graves or deep, it didn't matter.
For the first time, in a long time, he wasn't thinking about them with anger, or a need for vengeance, or hate, or bitterness, or any emotion with a hidden agenda lurking behind it. He was thinking about them, and remembering them.
Aeliana joined him at one point. That was nice. It was good to have her there. For the first time, Stini truly appreciated that, and all that she was to him. He took her hand, and they exchanged a glance.
"We're not going home," he told her, after they'd walked in silence like that for some time. Remnants of the party the night before were everywhere, but Stini didn't mind. It was good for his men to have some time to celebrate. They should enjoy it while they could.
"Why not?" Aeliana asked. There was no accusation to her voice, no anger, no confusion. It was like she already understand. And maybe she did. Maybe she was one of the ones smart enough to already recognize the coming danger.
"Catherine Sullivan killed her father to take the throne from him," Stini said, "She would have been Queen someday on her own, but she didn't have the patience for it. She killed him, and she must have had help. She'll want to continue this war, she'll want Arinford as her own."
Aeliana nodded.
Stini looked into the distance, "Sullivan was a danger that we understood. An insane man that believed in everything he was doing, and believed it was all right. A man thirsty for power, and thirsty for change. But Catherine, she's something new. We don't understand her yet, and I think that makes her even more dangerous.
"They might recall us," Stini said to Aeliana, "Rafinnel warned me of that, and he warned me that we can't go. We need to keep our men here, in Lamonte, and ready. We need to continue as though nothing's happened. No matter what Catherine Sullivan says or does, we have to be ready to kill her."
'We will," Aeliana said, "But how do you know? What if she wants to strike up some sort of peace treaty with King Parnell? She might. If she managed to kill her father, she's not stupid."
Stini thought of Rafinnel and how Rafinnel had looked when he spoke of the dream. The Prince of Arinford had come to him, and he'd given a warning, "We can't trust her," he told her, "No matter what our dears believe, we have to be ready, Jehryme. There are things going on that are a bit hard to explain. Prophecies, magic, manipulation... but we have to be ready, and I need to know that when it comes to it, I have your support."
"You know it's the first time you've really looked like a leader," Aeliana said, "You have my loyalty, Arthimur. But you've always had that."
"And mine."
Stini turned to see Carl Cox standing there, hands in his pockets. Behind him were even more men and women. A lot of his men and women. They were all nodding. Stini hadn't been aware that he'd been speaking to a group, but he supposed it made sense. These were his men, and they had been for quite some time. It was time to be a leader to them too. That's what they really deserved. A leader. Him.
Matilyn stared out at the Golden Sea, remembering the first time she'd set sail. Then, she'd been on a ship headed to Lamonte with aims to stop the Black King. Now she was heading to Arinford in hopes of helping him win the war she'd so long been against.
She thought about Sasha, the girl left behind, the girl she'd promised would be alright, the girl she shot with an arrow. She wondered what Sasha would make of her now, fighting for Lamonte. She wondered if she could have convinced her of the righteousness of it. She just didn't know.
Matilyn and Samuel had been given their deployment orders. They'd march to Westwood first and lay siege to the city. When they'd taken it and gotten it under their control, they'd go to Teirford next. She wondered if that would be as ironic as sailing off to Arinford was. The thought made her think of Ryan Mattheus, the lieutenant of Stoneheart.
Once they had Teirford under control, they would focus on other strategic cities and forts before they marched to the capitol. Once they were there, they'd take out the king and end the war.
The war would be over soon, then. Soon, they'd have Arinford under Sullivan's reign. Then the two kingdoms could begin trade -- fair trade -- and many o
f the helpless people in Lamonte would be taken care of. She knew that wasn't the end for her, though. After Arinford there was Fairenthe and Rafix to take. Then there was the rest of Cartharia.
Matilyn knew to some it seemed like a dream, the thought of uniting Cartharia. Maybe it was a dream of sorts. Maybe they were playing the odds, trying to do the impossible. It was a worthy goal though and one Matilyn knew she'd help accomplish -- or die trying, anyway.
"Do you find it strange, going back to Arinford?" Ra'sha joined her on the deck of the ship, tilting her head a little as she studied the other woman. Matilyn looked over at her and smiled.
"No," she admitted, "I've known since I joined the Lamonte military that this was my place. I'm doing what I'm meant to do. This moment, my entire life has led up to it."
"You're right," Ra'sha agreed, "I was hoping you might tell me something though."
"What's that?" Matilyn asked.
"What if King Sullivan is wrong?" Ra'sha asked. "What if this isn't the way?"
"Then we're damned," Samuel said, joining them. He stood on Matilyn's other side, staring out over the sea.
Both Matilyn and Ra'sha turned to look at him.
"If King Sullivan is wrong and this isn't the way," Samuel said, "Then we've wasted our lives, and we've wasted our souls."
Matilyn considered this thoughtfully. It wasn't the first time the thought had crossed her mind, but somehow hearing it from Samuel made it sound more real.
"But Ra'sha," he said, "Matilyn. We're not wrong, that's the thing. It's the world that's wrong. You have to remember that. We're the good guys."
They stood there for a while like that, each thinking their own thoughts and wondering what was really right and what was really wrong in the world and with them. At the end of the day, as the sun sunk lower in the sky, Matilyn found herself grateful for them, Ra'sha and Samuel. She was more grateful than she could ever say.
FIFTY-SIX
Why I Will Fight with Him Upon this Theme
WHEN ELDRIN CAME FOR THEM, IT FELT like a time from another world. He killed the guards near them as though it was nothing simpler than getting up in the morning. He moved with a grace that Janice had never seen.
She was almost jealous. Then she remembered who it was rescuing them, and her stomach fell again. She and Sean had had plenty of a chance to discuss it. It didn't make any sense, but it had to be true.
"Thank you," she told him.
Eldrin shifted uncomfortably, "I told you I'd come back for you."
Sean put a hand on his shoulder, and then the two of them hugged. It was too painful for Janice to watch, so she turned away, "What's going on? I've heard Valishna is under a strict law right now."
Eldrin turned back tok Janice and frowned, "They captured Penny," he said. "Well, actually, she turned herself in."
"Why would she do that?" Sean asked.
"Because she thinks she can inspire the city to revolt," Eldrin explained, "and maybe she can, but she doesn't need to do it with her execution. I can't let her die. I can't do that."
"I know," Sean said, "So what are you going to do? Break her out?"
Eldrin shook his head, "She's stubborn. She wouldn't come when I snuck into the commander's tent, trying to rescue her. She just refused. I've got some of her resistance together and we're going to try and take over the public speech when it comes up. We have almost seventy people."
"Not many," Sean mused.
"No," Eldrin agreed, "Not many at all."
"Then what are we waiting for?" Janice asked. She frowned at both of them. "Let's go. Find us some weapons on the way. I prefer a bow."
"I know," Eldrin said. He gave her a half-smile, and Janice couldn't help but return it. It was so familiar. She followed him out of the cell, and they headed to prepare themselves.
She thought of the commander and that look he'd given her. That look full of regret. Regret at what she'd done, and who she was. But Janice had never felt less ashamed of who she was. In fact, she rather liked the person she'd come to be.
And it was time for Valishna to like that person too. Somehow, it felt right. That it should come to this. That she would stand up for Valishna, a city that had never loved her, but a city that she'd always longed to be part of.
And here she was. When Eldrin put a bow in her hands, she felt whole.
Janice listened to speech that Peter Sterling and the executioner gave, her nose wrinkled in disgust. She was glad to see that nobody else seemed to enjoy what they were saying either. It was as though the city were bubbling in anger. But it hadn't spilled over yet and that was a problem. According to Eldrin, that was the problem.
She listened to Penny take the stage. For the first time since she'd known the woman, she heard real strength and courage. When they'd trained as priests together, Penny had been selfish and spoiled. They hadn't been friends. They'd not even liked each other.
But the woman up there now, the woman pleading with Valishna to take back their lives, that was a woman that Janice could respect. That was a woman that she could befriend. She understood now, how Matilyn had fallen in love with her.
Then the executioner yelled for the archers to kill her.
"Now!" Eldrin whispered in her ear. Janice raised her bow, but didn't shoot. It was too soon. She watched all of the archers above Penny drop over.
"Kill them all!" the report was given to the guards and suddenly there were guards pouring in to attack citizens. There were archers that Eldrin had set up taking them down, but it wasn't nearly enough.
"What are you waiting for?" Eldrin hissed, "Do it!"
Janice ignored him, as she'd done so many times, and focused instead, slowly threading an arrow. This was the shot that had to count. This was the shot that could make the difference. She was supposed to shoot the executioner. That was the plan.
But her heart was telling her something different. She lowered the tip of her arrow a bit, and then let out a loud battle cry. It rang out louder than it should have in the crowd, and hundreds of eyes turned to look at her.
Janice let the arrow fly.
Nearly everyone in the city came to marketplace when they were summoned. Penny could see thousands of people; many of them crying openly. There were also angry faces in the crowd, and confused, hurt ones.
She was sitting in a chair, her hands loosely on her lap. Peter had agreed to this although he'd made sure to warn her that archers were trained on her at all times and that they'd be happy to fire at any moment.
The executioner looked bored. He was standing a few feet behind Penny, swinging his ax idly.
"This woman," Peter said, standing in front of the crowd, "was the leader of the rebellion that we caught making plans against our great King Sullivan. This rebellion was created to cause strife and anger amongst you. It was created to challenge peace.
"King Sullivan has a dream for the world. That dream is to create equality. He wants to make sure that everyone is held to the same regard: no matter their age, their race, their gender, or their social class. He wants to make sure all are taken care of, not just the rich."
"This woman," the executioner interrupted, letting his words ring out over Peter's, "is one of the wealthy. She was asked to share her wealthy with the less fortunate and she became so angry about being asked to help that she created a group to go against our King. She is selfish. She is spoiled. She doesn't care about you. She doesn't care about anyone. She tells you she is a Priest, but only so she can hear your problems and laugh about them."
Penny only half-listened to the lies coming from the man's lips. She was busy watching the crowd. It did not look like it was listening either. There were stirrings and rumbles of anger at what he was saying. Many of these people had known Penny since she was a child.
The executioner continued, "We caught her running away. After she escaped, she left you all here to bear the weight of what she did while she was going to run off.
"We will not stand by while civil issues rip apart wha
t King Sullivan is trying to desperately to create. We will set an example with her. We will show everyone what happens when one selfish person tries to make themselves more important than the rest."
Peter Sterling spoke again, "Penelope Belmonte -- Arris -- is hereby convicted of treason. Her sentence is execution by way of beheading. The date is today."
At this there was a cry of anger and sorrow from the crowd.
Peter held up his hand, "We will be gracious and not set an example with Belmonte, allowing her a clean death. Any who wish to take up her place will not be so lucky to have a quick slice at their neck."
Ignoring the crowd, he turned to the executioner. "It is time."
The executioner moved forward, nodding to Penny. She stood as well, walking forward to the edge of make-shift stage that had been erected.
"Do you have anything you wish to say?" Peter asked. "Any last words? You could repent. I'd like that."
Penny nodded, "Yes, I have something to say."
The executioner nodded at her, "Say what you must then and let us be on with this."
Penny smiled at the crowd. Many people smiled back at her, though most looked scared.
"These men speak of peace, but they know nothing of it. You have had your families destroyed and your lives ripped apart. They have taken what they want and have left you with scraps of what you formerly were.
"They want you to believe that nobody can rise above others so you will be satisfied being ruled. This execution is only the first step in a long line! Your children will be brainwashed, your neighbors will be beat! Is this what you want?"
The crowd roared it's disapproval. Peter shook his head at the executioner, finally realizing the tone of the crowd. He knew it was getting out of control and fast.
"Then stand up now and do something! Stopping letting others fight your battles! Kill them!" Penny screamed.
"Archers, shoot her!" the executioner roared. Penny's eyes widened in panic. She waited for the arrows to fill her body. When nothing happened, she looked over where they were stationed. They were all crumpled forward, dead. She could see no visible marks on their bodies. She swept her eyes over the crowd. The faces of the flesh manipulators that George had been training stood out visibly.