Eldrin turned his back on her.
"Eldrin, I'm sorry," Matilyn said.
He walked away. Matilyn thought about getting up and following him, but the moment she started to move, the pain in her chest became overwhelming. So she laid back instead, sighing. She thought of Penny then, and her silver promise ring. Her mind flickered between the two; the love of her life, and her best friend in the world. She thought of them, and of the mess she'd made with both.
Matilyn had ordered her men back to the field. She still wasn't well enough to fight herself, but she'd told Sean to take her place on the field.
Sean had done as commanded, taking Redhorn out alongside Tommy Frederick's squadron. Their mission was simple enough--there was a unit of Lamonte men moving through the area towards the beach. They were supposed to lead them away from the camp and take them out when they were far enough away that their position wouldn't be compromised.
The unit had been smaller than they'd originally thought, and easier to lead away then they'd expected.
Sean wasn't complaining though. The less men they met on the field, the less men they'd lose. He led the attack with the usual battle cries. All around him, men shouted their loyalty to Arinford and their cries for revenge.
He hadn't expected to enjoy fighting as much as he did. He moved with a kind of liquid grace, moving from soldier to soldier, cutting them down as quickly as he could.
A Lamonte soldier tried to move around him, but Sean quickly engaged him. Their swords met with a clash, and Sean ducked back, readying his stance. He held his sword with one hand, and clutched his amulet with the other, drawing in energy and strength. The amulet lent him more power than he would have on his own.
"You're going to die," Sean said in a soft voice as they fought, "I'm going to kill you. You know that, right?"
The soldier hissed at him.
"It's not that I want to kill you," Sean said, "I just don't have a choice."
"Die," the man said. His accent was much thicker than the rest of the Lamonte soldiers they'd come upon. This distracted Sean.
"Where are you from?" he asked.
The man ignored the question.
"Serjya?" Sean asked, "No, you'd be from Elijah, right? Or Coraga?"
The man still didn't respond. He struck out at Sean's left, but Sean had known he was going to strike in that direction long before the blade moved. He easily parried it.
"Did you leave anybody behind?" Sean questioned, "Sisters? A wife? Children?"
"Shut up," the man said, "Fight me, damn you!"
Sean continued to parry his strikes, not yet striking out on his own. "Lamonte is wrong," he said, "Sullivan is wrong. I want you to see that before you die."
"No," the man said, "Sullivan is a god."
"He might be," Sean said with a dismissive shrug, "I won't pretend to know if that's true or not. But the thing is, Gods, they can be wrong too."
Then he ended the man's life with a quick jab to his abdomen. Once he'd fallen to his knees, Sean slid his blade into the man's throat. He looked around.
The men were still fighting. He moved to another soldier. They came quickly now, and he reacted instinctively, using the mixture of his own swordsmanship and the strength lent to him by the amulet to fight. The more that came, the more that died. Blood soon stained the ground wherever he moved.
It was invigorating. He'd never felt so many emotions at once. The excitement, the fear, the loyalty... he drank it in like it was a drug, a drug that he depended on, that he needed.
When the fighting was done, he stood back and looked at the bodies that now littered the ground. He let out a heavy sigh, glancing briefly at his bloody sword. Then he saw the rest of the officers staring at him.
"How'd you do that?" Janice demanded.
"Do what?" Sean asked.
"How'd you fight like that?" Janice said. "You seemed almost invincible."
"Nobody's invincible," Sean said.
"But you," Janice said, "You moved like I've never seen anyone before. You weren't that good in training. Or in Teirford."
Sean didn't have an answer for her. He licked his lips instead, and tasted blood. Some time in the battle, he'd had his lip split. He savored the flavor for a brief moment.
"Well, we're done here," Janice said.
Then Sean was moving again, closing the distance between them. His sword fell out of his hand as he embraced Janice. One hand slid to her back, and the other moved to her hair. He guided her mouth to his, and kissed her with a ferocity that he didn't know he had.
"You're right," he said, when they finally pulled apart, "We're done here. Let's get back to base."
NINETEEN
He is Gone, Indeed
MATILYN WOKE UP TO THE SOUND OF crashing during the night. She sat up, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting inside her tent. At first, she didn't realize what she was seeing. There shouldn't be light inside her tent; it was the middle of the night, and while there were dozens of campfires always lit, they didn't provide that much light. Then she smelled the smoke in the air. Fire!
She leapt to her feet to the sound of screams. There was still some residual pain in her chest, but over the last few weeks, the wound had almost fully healed. She ducked her head out of the tent, trying to make sense of what was happening. Her heart sank. There were soldiers everywhere; both Arinford and Lamonte men, fighting. Fires raged out of control, consuming tents, tables, and men alike.
For a moment, she thought she was back in Valishna again, and a scream rose to her throat. Then she swallowed it back, and ducked back into her tent, grabbing her pack, weaponry, and armor. She briefly considered the heavy chest piece for a moment and then abandoned it, opting only for her sword and shield.
She rushed back out, looking around for men from her Charge. The only recognizable person she saw in the chaos was Tommy. He was fighting off two soldiers at once; one in a sword fight, the other sending arrows at him. He was using a concentrated amount of wind manipulation to continuously send the arrows off course.
Matilyn could only stare for a moment, mesmerized. She'd never understood wind manipulation; no matter how hard she tried, the only thing she could do with her Chakran was heal.
Then she came to her senses, rushing towards the archer. He turned just in time for her to plunge her sword into his chest. Without having to worry about him, Tommy quickly prevailed in his own fight, cutting the soldier down. Matilyn hurried to his side, "What's happening?" she demanded.
"Our position must have been compromised," Tommy said. They had to shout over the sounds of fighting, screaming, and fires.
"How'd we not know they were coming?" Matilyn asked.
Tommy shook his head. "That small unit that Sweeton took out, they must have been a diversion."
"I guess it doesn't matter now," Matilyn said, "Have you seen any men from my Charge? Any of my captains?"
"Sorry," Tommy said with a shake of his head, "I haven't. I thought I saw Sweeton, but he took off, and I'm not sure which direction he went."
Matilyn nodded. "I'm going to find them," she said, before snapping off a quick salute. Before she'd gotten more than a few dozen yards away from Tommy though, a soldier dove at her, knocking her to the ground. Her sword and shield both blew out of her hands. He held a dagger in one hand as he leered down at her. She twisted to the side, forcing him off just as he brought the knife towards her face.
"Bitch," he snarled as his dagger sunk into the ground instead of her flesh. Matilyn scrambled aside, aiming a kick towards his face. He moved and her foot caught his shoulder instead, shoving him backwards. He lunged at her again and Matilyn hurried to her feet, ducking back. Immediately he bounded up, snarling at her.
Matilyn looked around for her sword. It was a few feet away. She moved for it, but the Lamonte soldier stepped in as well, kicking it further from her reach. He laughed and made a large swipe with his dagger. Matilyn avoided the blow, her eyes desperately searching for an opening. Whi
le she already expected he was protected, she probed to with her mind nonetheless. As she expected, he was impervious to manipulation.
"Can't fight me like that, bitch?" the soldier taunted, looking more like a feral beast than a man. He lunged at her again, forcing her to stumble backwards. She hissed as her foot struck a rock.
"I'm going to kill you," he told her. Matilyn waited for him to lunge at her again, and used the chance to duck down and grab the rock she'd tripped on. Instead moving backwards, she threw herself at him. His dagger scraped alongside her left abdomen as their weights collided. She cursed again but didn't hesitate, using the rock as a club. She swung it at his face.
Howling in pain, the soldier attempted to throw her back, his nose split open from the impact. She didn't let him, instead embracing him as one would a lover. She snapped the rock into his head this time, and there was a loud thunking noise as his skull split from the impact. Warm blushed gushed out over her hands. It dripped down her arms in tiny, red tendrils. Head wounds bleed more, Matilyn heard her father say. She laughed, disgusted with herself, and shoved the soldier away. He laid, twitching and screaming on the ground.
Matilyn snatched up her weaponry, hurrying away from the dying man. She kept her shield in front of her, listening to the sounds of fighting and screaming. An arrow pinged off her shield, but she couldn't tell where it had come from.
When she got to the meal tents, there was a large fire spreading rapidly. She coughed at the smoke, once again reminded of Valishna. Nearby, she saw a group of manipulators trying to use water to douse the flames. She ran over to them.
"Can you help us?" the front woman asked. Her skin was ash colored and her eyes bloodshot.
"No," Matilyn said, "I'm not a water manipulator, I'm a Priest and--"
"Then I'd suggest getting out of here," the woman said, "People have already been burnt to death."
Matilyn looked around at the bodies. She saw mangled flesh and charred uniforms. It made her feel sick to her stomach.
"They try to save the uniforms," the woman told her, "They want to kill the men with fire manipulation but leave their uniforms intact. So they can count afterwards, how many officers they've killed. Because they already know they're going to win."
"Not today," Matilyn snarled. She turned to hurt back into the throng of fighting, searching for people from her Charge. She spotted Janice surrounded by three Lamonte soldiers. One of them was in combat with her, the other two crowded in, trying their own swings at her.
"Janice," Matilyn called out, sprinting towards them. She knew Janice wasn't as good with a sword as she was with her bow. One of the men turned as Matilyn approached and she slammed her shield full-force into his face. She heard bones crack and the soldier dropped to the ground, crying out in pain.
The soldier to his left continued to duel Janice, but the other brought her sword up, driving a blow towards Matilyn.
Turning her sword to parry the attack, Matilyn gritted her teeth as metal and metal clanged together, scraping. Yanking her sword back out of the lock, Matilyn spat at the other soldier.
The woman hissed as the spit hit her face. She didn't waste any time wiping it away though, instead adopting a ready stance. Matilyn took the same position, though she kept her shield at the ready.
"Last chance to surrender before I kill you," Matilyn screamed. She knew it was a pointless offer, but she hoped it might distract the woman enough to give her an advantage.
"I'll never surrender,"the woman snapped. She had a low, thick accent. "I've given my life to serve and if I must die, I will die."
"You're crazy," Matilyn said, still circling the woman.
The woman shook her head, "No," she said in that same drawl. "I'm enlightened." With that, she reinstated combat, jabbing at Matilyn's abdomen.
Matilyn lowered her shield, letting it take the blow. With her sword, she slashed at the woman, trying for distraction rather than to actually wound. The technique worked; the woman stumbled backwards and Matilyn was able to force her further back.
The woman growled, trying to raise her sword back up. Matilyn kept her shield in place, preventing that. The woman tripped in her retreat, falling to the ground. Matilyn advanced over her, easily kicking the sword from her hand.
"Surrender," Matilyn said. She lowered the tip of her blade to the woman's throat.
The woman said nothing, her eyes wide and clear of panic or fear. Matilyn stared into them for a moment and then pressed her sword down firmly. The tip of the blade easily bit through the woman's jugular. The death was immediate; the woman's eyes rolled back into her head and her mouth filled with red froth.
Without hesitating, Matilyn yanked her sword out of the dead woman and wheeled around to check on Janice. Janice had pierced the man's abdomen and was watching him slowly bleed to death.
"Are you okay?" Matilyn asked. She stepped over to Janice, slamming her sword down into the man's chest and sparing him the slow death.
Janice nodded, "I am," she sighed out, "And... are you?"
"I've been better," Matilyn said, "I'm trying to find everyone. Where's your squadron? Where's Eldrin? Sean?"
"Matilyn, you need to sit down," Janice said. Her voice sounded far away.
Shaking her head, Matilyn repeated, "I need to find everyone. Our men. Have to see if they're okay."
"Look at yourself," Janice demanded, grabbing Matilyn's arm. Matilyn swayed into her, dizzy. She did what Janice suggested, lowering her eyes. Beneath her collarbone, the wound had reopened and was dripping blood. She had a long gash on her left side that was tacky to the touch.
"I'm fine," Matilyn insisted. Suddenly the world darkened and she tasted grass.
"Wake up," Janice said. "Please, Matilyn, wake up."
Matilyn opened her eyes to see Janice's face swimming above her. "What happened?"
"I bandaged you as best I could," Janice said, "I tried to heal you, but the poison is still in your system. I couldn't do much else."
Touching the bandage on her left side tentatively, Matilyn nodded. She sat up and looked round. She was on the ground where she'd fallen earlier. It was daylight now, and the fighting had ceased. Thousands of bodies, wrecked tents, wagons, and supplies littered the ground. Smoke hung heavily in the air.
"How long was I out?" Matilyn asked.
"Four hours, give or take," Janice said, "I don't really know. I tried to move you after you fainted, but I was scared to make your injuries worse. I kept trying to heal you, even though I should have realized that I couldn't."
"Thank you anyway," Matilyn said, "And thank for you for abandoning me. You probably saved my life." She slowly stood, wincing at the pain in both her side and chest.
"What happened here?" Janice asked, looking miserable. She had a few scratches and bruises and a small gash on her left leg that she'd left unattended.
"I don't know," Matilyn said, thinking again of the Arinford Priest from the shore, the one who'd been fighting for Lamonte. She felt a swooping sensation in the pit of her stomach and thought she might be sick.
Janice looked just as bad, "We need to find everyone. I have no idea who's alive."
Matilyn struggled to get to her feet. It was hard to believe that only a few weeks before, she'd been worried about nothing more than how to make amends with Eldrin. That felt like something from another life. Janice slipped an arm around her waist to keep her from falling and together, they began to search for survivors.
The morning was filled with constant pangs of loss. Every time Matilyn saw a man or a woman she'd known, it hit her like a blow in the gut. They'd been victorious in the battle but it had come at a high price. She pocketed the dog tags of the men she came upon, keeping a mental list of the people she'd have to write home about.
Most of the officers were dead. She observed their bodies in a state of almost cynical dryness. She had moved far past shock into some unknown land of unreason. The battle in Teirford had been bad--this one was worse.
She'd been g
lad when she'd seen Tommy Frederick still alive and mostly uninjured.He'd suffered a deep cut in his arm, but Janice had healed it for him.
"This hurts," Tommy said, swallowing.
"I'm sorry," Janice said.
"Not the wound," Tommy told her, "this." He made a gesture around the camp, "All of our men, dead. I can't believe it. It doesn't feel real."
"It's real," Matilyn told him. She put a hand on his shoulder, "I know it's difficult but we'll get through this. We still have men that are alive--from Bluerock too. You have to be strong for them."
Tommy swallowed and nodded, "I'll try," he promised.
Sean approached Matilyn a few hours later. "Matilyn."
Matilyn turned quickly to Sean, her expression concerned, "What is it? Are we being attacked again?"
"No," Sean said, "Nothing like that. I need you to come with me. There's something you need to see."
Matilyn nodded, standing up from where she'd been kneeling and following Sean. "What is it?"
Sean walked slowly, each footstep heavy.
"What?" Matilyn demanded. When Sean stopped, she stopped with him. Janice and the rest of the soldiers were standing near a burnt area of ground. There were a lot of charred, unrecognizable bodies.
With a start, she realized the were near the area she'd abandoned during the night; the one with the water brigadier. Her body was likely amongst the dead. She felt her stomach swoop again, disgusted and depressed.
"I was here last night," Matilyn said to Sean. "I talked to one of the women. I told her we'd survive."
Sean said nothing. He put a hand on her shoulder and gestured to an area on her right. When she what was laying there, atop one of the charred masses, her heart felt like it stopped.
It was Eldrin's jacket.
"It isn't his," she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them. Nobody said anything but she could almost taste the disbelief in the air. She felt the sudden urge to scream.
Sean shook his head, "Matilyn, they were burning people out here. We don't know why they left the clothing. It must be the way they handle fire--"
The Warriors of Valishna (Cartharia Book 1) Page 23
