The Warriors of Valishna (Cartharia Book 1)

by Spencer Reaves McCoy

  But Janice had always been a better shot. "Fire," she said, and let the arrow fly through the air, taking down the deer with a shot through the right eye, "There," she said, "Meat."

  Together she and Matilyn walked over to the fallen animal.

  "It's sad, isn't it?" Matilyn asked, "he's so majestic looking."

  "He is," Janice agreed, taking a moment to admire the antlers on the animal before unsheathing her dagger and slitting its throat. Warm blood gushed over her hands. It was a welcome but brief reprieve from the cold that had numbed them.

  "Let's get him back to camp," Janice said, "We can butcher him there. The men will enjoy some meat in their stew tonight."

  Matilyn nodded. She waved forward the few soldiers who'd come with them and together they hefted up the deer, dragging it back to the camp they'd set up nearby. Since the snow had stopped coming, they'd moved out of their cave into a small valley. Trees surrounding them, making for good wind block.

  There was a lot of cheering when they returned to the camp with fresh meat. A few men began to set up a skinning rack while others prepped knives for the butchering. So far the only meat they'd had recently had been the remnants of dried jerky from their supplies and a few rabbits they'd managed to capture.

  It was like a celebration that night. Matilyn was surprised how much morale the deer brought to her little group of soldiers. She ate with them, laughing occasionally, but never really getting into the spirit of the evening. Her mind kept turning to Eldrin.

  Part of her hated him for his abandonment. She knew it wasn't his fault, but she still couldn't get past the fact that he'd left her alone. He'd died, and now she had nobody. She'd cried hard, bitter tears and cursed his name on more than one occasion.

  "Are you alright?" Janice asked, taking a seat beside Matilyn as the evening faded into night.

  "I'm full for once," Matilyn said, "That's nice."

  "It is," Janice agreed, "I'm glad you had the idea to go hunting. Without that deer, the men would have spent another miserable night in their tents. This changed things for them. I think we're going to be okay now."

  Matilyn nodded.

  "We need a plan though," Janice said, "Nobody has wanted to bring it up for obvious reasons. With Lamonte following us and the storms coming in so heavily, there's only really been one option and that was surviving. But now the weather has started to clear and everyone is wondering what we're going to do next."

  "We're going to take out Richard Sullivan," Matilyn said automatically.

  Janice shook her head, "That's not enough" she told her, "That's a nice sentiment, and it's what everyone here wants to do, but it's not enough. How are we going to do it? We have less than three hundred men. We don't know where we are, and we're new to Lamonte. Our greatest victory over the last few weeks has been shooting a deer."

  Matilyn gave a wane smile, ""I know," she said, "I wish I had the answers."

  "You have to have them," Janice said, "Because you're our leader. You brought us here. Without you, the Lost Brigade is just lost. We don't want that."

  "I'll think of something," Matilyn promised.

  Janice nodded, "I know you will," she said, "I believe in you, Lieutenant, and so do the others. That's why it's important for us to start doing something again. Before that belief starts to fade."

  "I know," Matilyn said.

  "I know it's been hard," Janice said, "Losing Eldrin... I know it's been hard."

  Matilyn didn't reply to that.

  "We should talk about it," Janice said.

  "Why?" Marilyn asked.

  "Because it's eating away at you," Janice said, "And I think the only way we're going to move forward is if you get your feelings about out in the open."

  Matilyn sighed, "He's dead," she finally said, "What more is there?"

  "Matilyn--"

  "No," Matilyn said, "he's dead."

  Janice nodded.

  "So what's there to talk about?" Matilyn asked. "He's gone, Janice, and there's nothing you, or me, or anyone else can do about it, so we just have to move forward."

  "Alright," Janice said.

  "Alright," Matilyn agreed.

  Together, they both let out a long drawn out sigh.

  "We'll pack up camp tomorrow," Matilyn said.

  "We will?" Janice asked.

  Matilyn nodded, "It's time," she said. "Pass along the news."

  "We're surrounded," Serin said. He was a young soldier, well-versed in wind manipulation. He'd originally been one of Tommy Frederick's men, but he'd stayed with Matilyn when his captain had returned to the ARinford shore.

  Matilyn liked Serin. She found him to be good company most of the time. He had a quick smile, an easy laugh, and a childlike naivety that kept everyone around him in good cheer. Today, though, she couldn't have been more angry with him.

  They'd left the camp in the morning, trudging along a trail they'd found. One of the men (she thought so much of Eldrin and their escape from Valishna) told her that if they followed the trail long enough, it was bound to come upon a road or a bridge or water. It was man-made after all and existed for a reason.

  Someone had spotted a Lamonte scout not far from them. Matilyn had spent a small party to investigate. They'd come back blood-splattered but unharmed. There had been a small force, they'd said, but it had easily been wiped out. The soldiers weren't great at fighting.

  They'd marched on.

  Serin had been one of the scouts stationed near the back. He was supposed to be keeping an eye out for approaching soldiers. Sometime around noon, though, he'd abandoned his post to come speak with Matilyn personally. She'd listened to him pour his heart out; he didn't want to be here any longer, he said. He'd made a mistake staying with the brigade, he belonged back home. He should never have joined the Guard in the first place and so and so forth.

  Every statement made her think of Sasha, the girl they'd left behind when they stole the ships, and she resented him just a little more. Because Sasha made her think of Eldrin, and thinking of Eldrin made her mad with grief.

  But she recognized when someone needed to talk, and perhaps that was why she allowed Serin to stay as long as he did, blabbing away while his post went unmanned. When news came back that there were soldiers ahead of them, she'd sent him to check the back. The news wasn't good.

  "We're surrounded," he repeated.

  "I heard you the first time," Matilyn said. She looked out at the men, "Draw your weapons."

  The afternoon silence was filled with the sudden drawing of steel.

  "What are your orders, Lieutenant?" Janice asked.

  "We have no choice," Matilyn said, "They're coming from all sides. We fight. I want everyone in formation; don't break it for anything. We can't let them separate us. I want to focus on the officers first, then on anyone who looks like they could manipulate. They probably have people to block our manipulation, so let's just focus on fighting."

  Everyone around her nodded. She drew her own sword and waited for the Lamonte soldiers to attack. As they expected, the men came in from all sides. They outnumbered Matilyn's men two to one.

  She headed towards a soldier with Lamonte officer pins, dictating his rank. She immediately reached out with her mind, checking for shields. Surprisingly, she found none. She focused on the flesh of his neck, preparing an assault, but he quickly lunged at her, bringing his sword down in an offensive arc. She barely avoided the blow, shield rising defensively.

  The soldier didn't hesitate, pulling his sword back and bringing it forward again. Matilyn ducked down, trying to regain her focus. The flesh on his left wrist split open and blood gushed out. It wasn't exactly what she'd been trying for but Matilyn was satisfied. The soldier dropped his sword and clutched at his wrist in agony.

  Matilyn grinned, pushing her advantage. She brought her sword forward, slashing at his chest. He stumbled back but the blade still ripped through his thin armor. He cursed at her. Matilyn returned the curse, following him. This time, she drove her sw
ord forward in a jabbing motion. He tried to duck back, but she was too fast and her sword found a rip in his armor and exploited it. The sword slid through him like gossamer.

  "No!"

  The yell caught Matilyn off-guard. She turned sideways as she yanked the blade from the dead officer to see a small woman in Lamonte colors lunging at her with two twin daggers. Matilyn reacted instinctively, ducking down and letting her weapons fall. She rolled to the side and the short soldier hit the ground, rebounding to her feet quickly.

  "You killed him!" the woman shouted, tears running down her face. Beside her, a ball of fire formed in the air. It was a technique Matilyn and seen before. If flew at her and Matilyn was forced to dodge to the side. The ball hit the ground and fizzled out.

  Matilyn shouted back, "Of course I did! What'd you expect?" when she focused on the woman, her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh my gods," she said, "You're a child!" She snatched her sword and shield up, unable to keep her eyes off the young, teenage face. "You're just a kid."

  Nearly sobbing, the girl conjured another ball of fire. This one barely made it to Matilyn before sizzling out. She cried out at her, though her voice was nearly lost in the sounds of battle all around them, "All we want is peace!"

  "Peace?" Matilyn cried back, "You're crazy! Lamonte is a pack of murderers!"

  "King Sullivan only wants to unite the world under a single banner so there will be no more need for fighting! Everyone will share and prosper. King Sullivan is a hero for what he has done!"

  Matilyn shook her head, "Listen to yourself," she pleaded, "You can't honestly believe that killing entire cities is a way to peace. You're nothing but a child!"

  The soldier screamed out at that, abandoning her attempts to summon fire. She dove at Matilyn again, daggers high, "We will have it! We will have peace!"

  Matilyn side-stepped the attack easily as the woman was overcome with hysterics. She brought her sword up and slashed. The blade cut through her neck, decapitating the young teenager. The body of the soldier continued to move for a few seconds before crashing to the ground. Her head fell, tumbling towards Matilyn's feet. Her eyes rolled up in her head.

  Stumbling back, horrified, Matilyn clapped her free hand to her mouth, controlling the urge to vomit. It wasn't just the decapitation that filled her with such disgust; she knew the soldier was completely ignorant to what she was actually fighting for.

  Matilyn stood still, staring down at the head for what felt like hours. She thought of all the young men and women fighting under Sullivan's banners. She thought of how many teenagers... children... she would have to kill before the war was over. She blamed Sullivan for their deaths. She blamed him for everything.

  Sean's voice broke through her thoughts and she spun around. It had only been second since the headless woman had collapsed at her feet. Sean was a few yards away, screaming for support. He was surrounded by three Lamonte men, fending off their blows just barely.

  Matilyn sprinted over, picking up her shield as she went and quickly focusing on the soldier closest to Sean. She caught Sean's eye and he ducked down just as she hurled her shield, knocking the enemy over. She cleared her head and brought her concentration in on his neck. Without having to worry about defending herself, her manipulation was correctly placed; the skin of his neck ripped open, exposing his jugular vein. He collapsed immediately, body twitching.

  Sean lunged forward as the soldier convulsed, using the opportunity to bring his sword against another one of the remaining soldiers. There was a crack as the blade split his skull open, exposing the grey matter of brain. He made one more attempt at attacking Sean before collapsing over.

  The third soldier fought with a long whip. Unfazed by his comrades fall, he shoved the body off of himself, spinning around. He flicked his whip out at Matilyn in a lashing motion. She brought her sword up instinctively to protect herself, deflecting the crack of the whip. Sean smacked the whip's handle and surrounding fingers as hard as he could. It fell from the man's fingers.

  As the soldier cried out in pain, Sean focused on him. A few seconds later, he fell face-forward in the dirt.

  "What'd you do?" Matilyn asked.

  "I exploded an artery in his heart," Sean said, panting. His face was pale and exhausted. He groped at his neck, fingers wrapping tightly around the amulet that hung there. He took a deep breath, absorbing some of the energy.

  "I can only focus on the outside of the body," Matilyn admitted. She gave him a look of admiration, "Good job."

  "Thanks," Sean said. He took a quick look around, "Did you notice?"

  "That we're fighting kids?" Matilyn asked, "Yeah, I noticed. They have no idea how to fight back. Why in the world would they attack us?"

  "Because they've been ordered to," Sean said, "and because they feel as though they have no other choice. Maybe some of them thought of honor or glory but probably most of them knew they were marching to their deaths."

  Matilyn felt sick to her stomach again. She spotted Janice and jogged over to her, "How are we looking, Captain?"

  Janice wiped her hand across her face, smearing blood when she did, "Good," she said, "Good. The battle's almost over, Lieutenant, and we didn't lose many men."

  "We didn't lose any men," Ronald Patid said, joining the crew, "I was just counting with my men. We haven't spotted a single Arinford man that's been downed."

  Matilyn shook her head, "That's crazy."

  "Not really," Jancie said, "We're fighting inexperienced soldiers. This was probably their first fight. After the officers were dead, they just lost all morale and direction."

  Matilyn looked around. Despite herself, she couldn't help but feel sorry for the dead teenagers.

  It wasn't until late that evening that everyone was ready to move out past the battlefield. Matilyn knew everyone was exhausted by the combat but she felt it necessary to move on. She was worried about more troops showing up to look for the dead ones.

  She made them travel three miles before they stopped for the evening to make camp. It was a long walk, partially because of their exhaustion but mostly because of the depressed mood that had sunk over the soldiers since the battle. Nobody spoke as they trudged along.

  Serin came up to apologize but Matilyn sent him back to his post.

  "Why'd you let him leave without a reprimand?" Janice asked, "If he'd noticed the approaching soldiers earlier, we might not have been surrounded."

  "He's a good kid," Matilyn said. "He just lost his head for a moment. There's no sense making him feel worse than he already does. None of us can go home, Janice."

  "I know," Janice said with a sigh, "How I know."

  They stopped for the evening a bit later, but nobody bothered to set up camp for the night. They just chose an area that looked easy enough to guard and pulled out their sleeping bags, crawling inside for a few hours' rest. Many volunteered for sentry duty; Matilyn knew that most of these men couldn't get the battle out of their heads.

  Despite how tired she was, Matilyn had a hard time falling asleep. She kept thinking of the soldier she'd killed; the one who'd been adamantly defending Sullivan's ideals. Matilyn wondered about the girl's family. She wondered if they supported her decision to join the military. She couldn't imagine anyone letting their teenage child go to war.

  She turned her mind to her own mother. She thought of the way her mother had been before her death. She'd been a happy woman, and always so proud. She died when Matilyn was only four years old. Matilyn often wondered how her mother would have felt about her becoming a Priest. Now she wondered what her mother would have thought of her becoming a soldier. She wasn't just a soldier though, she was a leader. Plenty of blood was on her hands and more was going to cover them before the war was over.

  Her thoughts than turned to Eldrin. She thought of what he would have said if he'd seen the girl or any of the others that had been killed. He'd have been upset, but he would have tried to hide it. She smiled at the thought. He would have said something witty and inappropriate
to try and ease the situation. That was Eldrin--he was always making jokes when he shouldn't about subjects that should be off-limits.

  She could almost hear him.

  She buried her face in the pillow, trying to suppress her sobs. In those tears, she mourned for the dead children, her long dead mother, and mostly, for her very best friend.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Your Name, Your Quality?

  "WAKE UP."

  ELDRIN IGNORED THE VOICE.

  "WAKE up."

  Eldrin tried to groan. Every part of him hurt. He could feel a deep, agonizing ache that went from his head to his feet. It was excruciating. He couldn't move. He could barely remember who he was through the fog in his mind. He couldn't remember where he was or what had happened. He was sure if he thought about it, the memories would wash over him.

  But it hurt to think.

  "There you go."

  The voice cut through his head like razor blades. He wanted to tell her to be quiet, to stop speaking, to allow him some peace, but he couldn't do it. It hurt too much to move his lips. His eyes opened to slits but he couldn't get them any wider. The world above was a blinding white.

  Eldrin tried dos cream but the only noise that came out was a small groan. Barely more than a flutter of air. He'd never felt so helpless.

  "I wouldn't try to move."

  Eldrin realized with a startling sense of awareness that he didn't recognize the womanly voice. The pain, the blinding pain made sense now. He was in the hands of the enemy. Panic welled up within him. Luckily, before he could bloom, the refreshing blackness came and took him.

  It was nearly a full day later when Eldrin once again opened his eyes. The pain was still almost overwhelming but this time there was something else. It was tempered by another sensation. It took Eldrin several minutes to realize he was feeling moisture against his face. Someone was dabbing him with a wet cloth. It hurt, but it felt wonderful too.