The Warriors of Valishna (Cartharia Book 1)

by Spencer Reaves McCoy

  "No," Rafinnel said, once he'd returned to Will's side.

  "No?" Will asked.

  "It doesn't get easier to take a life," Rafinnel said, "and you should pray for that day to never come, Prince William."

  Will looked back over the troops. They were bloodied, some injured. "Never? What of you? You don't seem to have any trouble."

  Rafinnel looked at him sharply.

  "I watched you fight," Will explained, "it's like nothing I've seen you."

  Rafinnel was quiet for a moment, in thought. The troops had finally begun to walk again, though there were some that lingered behind, "I was quite a bit younger than you when I began my life as a soldier," he said.

  Will nodded, "In Rafix, right?"

  "Arinford has always been the home to immigrants," Rafinnel said, "other realms were not so fortunate to have maintained peace for so long. The King in Rafix was not as generous as your family. I saw people freeze to death, or starve... nearly daily. All whilst he sat on his throne."

  Will thought of his latest dream, of the biting cold, and shivered.

  "Slavery was common trade," Rafinnel said, "Daughters were sold off by their fathers to the highest bidder. Boys were auctioned off for manual labor or worse. There was no escape from the depravity of it."

  Rafinnel glanced up at the trail, his eyes searching for the distant sentry. Once he'd spotted him, he turned his attention back to Will, "It was not a happy existence. My generations were the first brave enough to stand up to it.

  "There was a war," Rafinnel continued, "But it was nothing like that. We were like boys with wooden sticks. We had no way to truly defend ourselves, no money for supplies, nothing. We were a small number that rose against the impossible.

  "I learned to fight," Rafinnel said, "Because there was no better choice. It was kill or be killed. Eventually, Arinford sent help to us. Your father was among the men that rode into battle and slew the king upon his throne. We fought together.

  "He became like a brother to me. When he returned to Arinford, I came at his side. I was still young then, not much older than you, and I began my training as an officer. I owe your father much."

  Will thought of the way they'd embraced.

  "I remember every face," Rafinnel said.

  Will looked at him, frowning.

  "Every single face," Rafinnel repeated, "it is easy to kill a man if you know how, my young prince, but it's much harder to forget them."

  "Do you know what my father found?" Catherine asked Lissa.

  Lissa shook her head, "No, what?"

  Catherine grabbed hold of her hand, "Wolves," she said, her eyes lighting up with fascination. "My father found wild wolves on one of his ventures. Isn't that just grand?"

  "What did he do with them?" Lissa asked, "Did he keep the pelts?"

  "No," Catherine said, "He didn't have them killed. That's horrific, Lissa. My father's not a butcher. They're locked away in the kennels for now. My father wants to see if the hound master can train them as one would a wild dog. And if he can't train them, he'll see if he can breed them and train their pups."

  "Imagine that," Lissa said, "Tamed wolves. Can you imagine one running around the castle, Catherine? It would be something to see, that's for certain. I've never even seen a wolf up close."

  Catherine grinned, "Well then," she said, "We're going to have to change that. Come along."

  "Where are we going?" Lissa said, following along behind Catherine, "Not to the wolves, I hope."

  "Oh, where's your sense of adventure?" Catherine asked with an innocent laugh. She paused when they reached the courtyards, peering around carefully. When she didn't see anyone present, she pulled Lissa through the empty court to the kennels. She held a finger to her lips and ducked her head around to make sure the hound master wasn't present.

  When she saw that he wasn't, Catherine looked at Lissa, "Let's see them. They're at the end."

  Lissa looked uncomfortable, "I'm not sure we're supposed to be here, Catherine."

  "I can be wherever I want," Catherine countered, "I'm the Princess. If I want to see the wolves, I'll see the wolves. What harm can come by just looking?"

  "None, I suppose," Lissa said. Together they approached the back of the kennels. There were three wolves in the back kennel, all curled up against the back wall. When they approached, one of them lifted its head to meet Catherine's gaze.

  "They're beautiful," Lissa said, "And frightening. Look how large they are."

  "I bet they eat a lot," Catherine said, "maybe an entire deer or maybe even elk. What do you think?"

  "I don't know," Lissa said, "Perhaps. Is that what wolves eat?"

  "That... and people."

  When Lissa glanced at her, Catherine shrugged, "It's true," she told the other girl. "Wolves are known to be vicious. That's why my father hopes to train them. Imagine if something that large wanted to bite you."

  Lissa backed away from the cage.

  "Come on, let's get a closer look," Catherine said. She slipped a key from her dress pocket and offered it to Lissa.

  "You want to go in?" Lissa said, "Are you insane?"

  "The kennel is large. We'll be fine. Now, unlock this door."

  Lissa hesitated, but Catherine folded her arms and waited. With a sigh, Lissa took the key from her fingers and unlocked the gate to the kennel. "I don't think we should do this," Lissa said.

  Catherine ignored her, opening the gate just a little. All three of the wolves sat up, staring at her. "Look," she told Lissa, "They're not even coming for us. See, I told you. It's fine."

  "Wonderful," Lissa murmured, "Now close the gate."

  Instead, Catherine opened it a little wider. She grabbed Lissa's arm, pulling her with her inside the cage. Lissa let out a gasp of surprise, "Catherine, please."

  "They really don't want to hurt us," Catherine said. She took a step closer to the wolves, keeping a firm hold on Lissa's arm. "I think they like us."

  "Catherine," Lissa whined. One of the wolves got to it's feet, and she let out a startled cry, trying to draw back, "Catherine, come on. This isn't fun."

  Catherine took a step closer to the standing wolf, "Sure it is," she said, "You're a beauty, aren't you? And so beastly too. Imagine this thing protecting you, Lissa. Or biting you. Your entire head would likely fit inside it's mouth."

  "That's not funny," Lisssa whispered. Her voice was trembling and she tried again to yank her arm out of Catherine's grip. The wolf growled.

  "He doesn't like when you do that," Catherine said, "We can't startle them, Lissa. They're dangerous creatures."

  One of the other wolves let out a low, matching growl. "Do you think this is it's litter mate?" Catherine mused. She glanced over at Lissa.

  "Catherine, let's go," Lissa said.

  The wolves began to approach.

  "Catherine!"

  "Fine," Catherine said. She let go of Lissa's arm and quickly ducked back out of the cage. The frightened girl followed her and Catherine slammed the kennel door closed as the wolves lunged towards it.

  She gave a delighted laugh as the wolves snarled and snapped through the kennel gate. She glanced at Lissa, who was white-faced and teary-eyed.

  "Lissa," she said, her tone cold, "You really need to grow up."

  Catherine danced her fingers across the piano keys, letting music filter through the room. She knew her mother had played the piano as well. Despite this, she still found it an enjoyable hobby. It gave her mind something to focus on besides the monotony of castle life.

  She was in the middle of the third verse of a complicated rewrite of one of the classic Lamonte battle songs when the door to the room burst open. Catherine let out a low sigh. She hated interruptions when she was practicing. She continued to play, pretending she hadn't heard the door at all.

  "Catherine."

  Her fingers stilled, and she sighed again. She turned to see who had dared to speak to her while she was playing. Garrett stood just inside the room. Her annoyance quickly faded.
"Do you want to hear me play?" she asked in a soft, sweet tone, her fingers delicately balancing on the keys once more, "I can sing a ballad if you'd like."

  "No," Garrett said, "Catherine, we need to talk."

  Catherine sighed, and removed her hands from the piano. She turned to face Garrett more formally, "And what," she said, "Do we need to talk about? What's so urgent that you had to interrupt me when I was practicing, Garrett?"

  Garrett looked angry. Catherine had never seen that expression on his face before; normally he was complacent, or frightened, or disgusted, or apologetic. He'd never seemed angry before though. This caused her some concern. She didn't like the unexpected.

  "Did you take Lissa to the kennels?" he demanded.

  That surprised her even more. "You've been talking to Lissa."

  "Yes," Garrett said, "We've been friends since we were small, Catherine. Answer the question. Did you force her to go with you to the kennels?"

  Catherine turned her back on him. "We did go to the kennels, but it was she who hadn't seen a wolf before and didn't see any harm in meeting them. She even said she found them beautiful."

  "She was in tears," Garrett said, "She told me you made her go into the cage with them. That you kept talking about how fierce they were."

  "The first time I saw the wolves I was scared. But I warmed up to them, and she will too."

  "I'm just wondering why you were so cruel," Garrett said.

  Catherine sighed. She turned back to Garrett, "If you've been friends since you were children, surely you know who her father is?"

  Garrett blinked, caught off guard, "Father Greene," he said.

  "Yes," Catherine said, "Father Greene. The man who denied me my right to learn manipulation. My father wouldn't overrule him, so I've decided I will change his mind in another way."

  "By torturing his daughter?" Garrett asked, "She's innocent of all this, Catherine. Leave her alone."

  "By befriending his daughter, and showing the both of them how good of a person I can be. But what does it matter to you, Garrett? Do you have feelings for her?"

  Garrett shook his head, "We are friends," he stressed, "And that means something to me. Lissa has been a wonderful friend to you too. Are you so harsh that you'd blame her for something that another had done?"

  Catherine shrugged a shoulder, "I hardly think that my friendship is a curse," she said.

  "Catherine," Garrett said with a sigh.

  "Never you mind it," Catherine said, "It's none of your concern anyway. Let me play you something. Not a ballad, you're right. That's far too ordinary. I know something from the city though, a bar chantey, it has the most deliciously spicy versus to go alongside the music and--"

  "I don't want you to play for me," Garrett said.

  Catherine sighed, "Fine," she said angrily. She quickly snapped back to a smile. "Then we'll do something else. Let's go to my chambers!" She stood to approach him but Garrett took a step backwards.

  "You don't care for anyone but yourself," he said.

  "You know that isn't true," Catherine said, "I care for you."

  "Catherine, I'm not a cruel person," Garrett said, "and you make me into this monster that I don't want to be. Those people, down in the cells, the things you made me do to them... and now, there's Lissa."

  "Forget Lissa," Catherine demanded taking slow, deliberate steps to the retreating young man.

  Garrett sighed, "I can't," he said, "I'm sorry, Catherine. I can't see you anymore."

  "You're breaking up with me?" For a few moments, Catherine looked genuinely hurt. "If you don't like who I am, I'll change."

  Garrett shook his head, "Somehow, I doubt that's possible for you."

  "Well, you can't break up with me. I forbid it, and I'm the Princess. My word is law."

  "No you can't," Garrett said, "and your word is not law. You can't make me stay with you, Catherine."

  "You're going to regret this," Catherine told him, "If you walk away from me, Garrett, I swear you will to regret this more than anything else in your life."

  Garrett shook his head, "That's a risk I'm willing to take."

  Will and the troops reached the division of Lamonte men they'd be fighting. It was midday and the sun had finally come up, though it was still freezing. The cold, clear skies reflected off the snow, making it bright and somewhat difficult to see.

  There was no way for them to sneak up on the others, not with the size of both armies. Instead, they met them midfield. Rafinnel pointed at a man near the front, wearing officer pins on his jacket, "That's Frien," he said, "Samuel Frien. He's a respected commander in Sullivan's troops."

  "How can you tell?" Will asked.

  "The way he holds himself," Rafinnel said, "he looks like their commanding officer, and I know Frien was supposed to be traveling with this group. This'll be a huge blow to the Lamonte morale if we can take him out."

  Will unsheathed his sword, "Then let's make sure to get him."

  Rafinnel gave a nod of approval and glanced at his men, "We can do this," he said, "Keep your back to the sun when possible and show no mercy."

  He then led the troops into battle. Will fought this time to his full ability, attacking any soldier that came near him during the fight. Several times, one of them he was fighting died from another soldier's sword or arrow. He didn't complain; he could still imagine the face of the woman he'd killed during the last battle they'd had.

  It was a difficult fight; the troops were nearly matched, something they hadn't counted on. On top of that, they were all hardened, experienced fighters and the scene quickly turned gruesome.

  Will glanced down at one point and saw several heads rolling on the ground. The snow was becoming drenched in red as blood flowed steadily.

  It wasn't till he saw the hand that he felt a moment of unease. He knew what battle would be like, but he hadn't really known until he saw the severed limb. The man who'd lost it let out an unearthly scream of pain. Will launched himself towards him, easily able to overpower the man and finish him off. A morbid part of him considered grabbing his hand and throwing it on top of the body.

  He pushed that desire out of his mind, and focused once more on the fighting. He could see Rafinnel fighting a few times, and tried to stick close to him to offer further protection. As the battle raged on, however, they soon became separated.

  Despite the brutality of the Lamonte soldiers they were fighting, Arinford soon managed to start pulling ahead. While Frien's men were talented swordsmen, they didn't compare to Rafinnel's. Will felt nauseated at the amount of men they were losing, but couldn't help but feel a sense of pride for the men he'd been riding with for months.

  A red haired woman attacked him with all the ferocity of a wild wolf. Will barely managed to keep up with her frenzied, half-mad attacks. He didn't know anybody could fight so erratically but he had to hand it to her--her unorthodox style of fighting had kept her alive so far, and he was finding her a particularly difficult opponent.

  He fought like Warlord Delanu and Rafinnel had taught him, adrenaline lending him strength and intuition to avoid most of the feigned tricks. Her sword caught his side at one point, nearly penetrating the protective armor that he wore beneath his tunic. He still felt the sword tip pierce his abdomen though and he let out a curse.

  The wound was small because of his armor, but he could still feel blood trickling down his side. It felt wet and sticky. For a moment, this distracted him, and the woman got in another blow. This one struck the side of his face, ripping open the sensitive flesh of his cheek. Will howled with pain but quickly began to fight back once more, trying to ignore the blood gushing down his face.

  The woman howled with laughter at one point, which surprised Will. He didn't lose his focus though, continuing to meet each of her attacks with his sword. He couldn't press offensive attacks; she was too strong and too quick. Will tried not to panic. His eyes swept around briefly, but there was no Arinford soldiers nearby.

  Suddenly, shockingly, the wom
an fell forward. A sword protruded from her back. Then the Lamonte soldier yanked his blade back and met Will's eyes.

  For a second, they only stared at each other. Then, over the man's shoulder, Will saw something that caused his breath to catch. Then he was screaming out a warning, but it was too late, and too noisy. A charging soldier slammed a sword through Rafinnel's lower back and the Battle-Master went to his knees.

  Will wanted to run to him. His heart felt as though it were in his throat. Then he remembered the Lamonte soldier who'd saved him, and his confusion and grief suddenly seemed overwhelming. His thoughts were racing: why would one of the enemies save his life?

  He looked back at the man in question and his heart sank further. Then the soldier grabbed him. Will fought back but he was no match in strength to the commander. Samuel Frien took his sword, tossing it to the ground and whisked Will away from the battle.

  TWENTY-THREE

  The Child was Bound

  "DO YOU SEE HIM?" JANICE ASKED.

  MATILYN glanced at the archer, resisting the urge to roll her eyes, "Of course I see him. He's right there. How could I miss him?" She whispered this back, shielding her eyes against the sun.

  For weeks, they'd either been running or hiding out in the caves they could find. They hid from soldiers and storms a like; nobody was prepared for the sudden storms that had swept through Lamonte. In those weeks, they'd run dangerously low on supplies--especially food.

  Janice carefully drew an arrow from her quiver. "I'm going to take him down," she said.

  Matilyn waved her hand in a hurry it up fashion.

  Janice ignored this, instead focusing on her breathing. She'd been hunting with her father a few times when she was young, and she remembered how much she'd enjoyed the solace that the activity brought. It always helped her clear her mind and come up with answers to any troubling questions she might be facing.

  "Draw," she murmured, threading and aiming the arrow. She drew back her bowstring and thought again of her father. He'd always told her to aim behind the left shoulder blade of the animal. It was the easiest spot to hit, and would take down the animal. It might ruin some of the meat, but he'd always told her it didn't matter. It was better safe than sorry.